The Inner Child

 The last couple weeks has been challenging. I experienced my first manic episode for the first time in a long time. I've been overindulging on everything I get my hands off, eating everything in sight, splurging on unhealthy foods for their moment of comfort only to be shortly followed by guilt and disgust, and doing little else than move from the couch. 

These episodes aren't obvious, and usually take time to become apparent, especially by those around you - usually coming to light when poor decisions spills over into the lives of others. Thankfully, I have beautiful housemates who took me for a walk and with love and care (having already dealt with their frustration privately) asked me if I was okay. "I am not," I answered. 

I'm unable to decipher what trigged this in me. My birthday is a few days away and my family being on the other side of the country could have contributed. The isolation of lockdown and now freedom as restrictions are lifted, only to realise I have few people in my life here to embrace this with, a possible subsidy, too. 
But mostly I just think it was from neglect. 

I haven't been putting in the daily work; the check-ins with myself, the hour of solitude before bed that I dedicate to meditation and journaling. I've been so distant from my own thoughts that they have been controlling me without any awareness on my part. I'm unable to ascertain my current needs because I've been so distant from them.

I haven't been showing up for myself, to say the least. I let myself down. 

I've always known that my mental state and wellbeing sometimes requires more work and maintenance than some other people. And as frustrating as this can be, it just simply is.

But while on my jog this morning, I began to understand why. 

Our mental state, the parts of us that require healing, is the equivalent of our inner child, who at the end of the day, we are all trying to heal. And well, I was a downright attention-seeking, sooky kid. 
I understand now why this was. Sure, she was a pain in the butt - she was a lot, but I understand what me in those younger years lacked and how I tried to compensate; asking for what I needed without actually understanding it or being able to put it into words. 

She needed love and attention and reassurance, and when she was at her lowest (which was a lot), she would binge eat and sit lifelessly in front of the television everyday until it was time to go to bed. 

And so a week of ignoring her is like abandoning her all over again, because consistent maintenance gets easier, but neglect is hard to recover from, having to earn her trust all over again. 

I feel good this morning. This realisation was exactly what I needed; a reminder that even when everything is great, the work still needs to be put in. A happy child is a loved child. 

So I hope this provides you with some clarity, too. On your bad days, good days even, or when you're down or struggling and you don't know how to show up for yourself, imagine its the child version of you. What did they need? How would you love them knowing everything that you know now?