According to some psychologists writing with your non-writing hand can trigger early memories, or at least make you feel like a child again. In a state of frustration a few weeks ago I tried to initiate some childhood recall. It did not work out as I had thought but it did take me back to a very vulnerable emotional place where I was not preoccupied with adult worries. I spoke to my father:
You are my sunshine
I don’t like when you
shout at me
I don’t like when you
are naked
I don’t like when you
know what I’m
doing
eating
poohing
I don’t want to tell you everything
I want to go out
I want to feel safe inside
I want to play
without having to entertain you
step around your eggshells
or obey any stupid rules
You make me hurt
You make me confused
You make me sick
to take care of me
To confuse me more
You are making me want to wretch
Vomit you out
Get out
How does love hurt so much?
Why do I have to obey to have you?
Why these contradictions?
They don’t make sense
I thought love was there
no matter who I am
Not
no matter who you are
You are the parent
YOU
I am a person
I am not part of you
Not an extension of you
Narcissistic shite
You fooled me
You didn’t love
Anything or
Anyone
Just guilt
I see who you are
I know
You told me
your secret
Now I am big
I can flee
and see clearly