Yesterday night, after an exhausting afternoon that I spent crying, I felt the sudden urge to draw a picture of how I might have looked as a child. I don’t really know why I wanted to or where the urge came from, because I also still felt hollow and not in touch with myself at all.
Anyway, this is what I ended up with:
I think I must have looked kind of like that. It looks vaguely like the pictures of me that I know.
It’s the first time I have wanted to focus some attention on myself as a child. I usually feel this great big reluctance to think about my younger self. Now I wonder if maybe that was the reason behind my emotional numbness yesterday. I didn’t feel much of anything, so maybe that was what enabled me to go and think of myself as a child. It might have been one tiny step down to my basement of demons – getting an idea of who I was. But maybe at the same time putting some distance between myself and “this child”. Putting her out there, on the paper. Not me. Nothing inside of myself.
Today I’m still sort of unfeeling, but when I look at the picture I feel a bit sad and sorry. The kid looks sad. Apprehensive. Tense. Like she doesn’t understand what goes on. When I look at it, I don’t even want to think of how long she still has to wait, still has to hold on and bear up against life until she finally finds her family. But I guess I will have to think about those things. Somehow.