Please take this whip from me.

November 6, 2015 § Leave a comment

“Operating from the emotional reality of a child”

That’s what I said Monday night to a group of people who get together once a week to talk about becoming their own parents.

A piece of me is trapped. Back there in that classroom, in the corner of the play yard, locked in the bathroom, scrambling over the fence to get away from them.

The scapegoat. The fat one. The one that everybody picked on, the odd man out. The one that wouldn’t play sports, the one who locked herself in the art room because she couldn’t face the lunch room.

Kiddo, i’m not quite sure how to get you out of there yet, but I’m working on it. But first, please, I need you to stop driving the car. You really aren’t old enough.

Please take this whip from me.

Please take this voice that says I’m not good enough, strong enough.

Please take this voice that says I’m not lovable, really. That I’m just fooling myself. 

Please take this whip from me.

“We admitted we were powerless over the effects of alcoholism or other family dysfunction, that our lives had become unmanageable.”

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