My Inner Child and the Angry Girl (Part II)

Going down memory lane, and reflecting on the years in between.

I wrote a piece on Medium 8 years ago about my inner child and the angry girl. It was about some insights I had gleaned whilst undergoing psychotherapy. I couldn’t have imagined that my past and childhood played such a big role in how I subsequently coped with my chronic illnesses.

My childhood wasn’t traumatic. In fact, it was filled with love, joy and fun. Most people would say that their youth was the most exciting phase of their lives. For me, it was my childhood; my teenage years only conjure memories of pain, devastation and heartbreak, as chronic illnesses piled up and crushed me under.

So how was it even possible that such a wonderful childhood could have affected my subsequent coping mechanisms and behaviours so negatively? I suppose I had fed and led myself into an illusionary version of myself. I was ‘strong’ - no, not strong, but the strongest. Whilst these internal narratives are essential in order for us to survive and thrive, they can become harmful when circumstances demand that we roll with the plot twist. And boy, is life twisted in more ways than a pretzel.

The original article can be found below if you’d like to read it, but I wanted to reflect on some additional insights I’ve gained from the years after.

So That’s What It’s Called - Internal Family Systems

I recently read an article about Internal Family Systems (IFS), and it sounded familiar. It was then that I realised that that was the type of therapy I had undergone, without me knowing its name. It was also the type of therapy I personally found most effective in helping me to unlock certain areas of my life in order to reclaim self-agency.

So, what is IFS? It is also known as ‘Parts Work’ and means just that - where you work on the reintegration of various facets of your self. No, we don’t all have split personality disorders, but we are complex, multi-faceted beings. I love how the founder, Dr. Richard Schwartz, phrases it in this interview on the British Psychological Society’s website:

“These parts will fight to the end to protect you”.

Twisting Logic as a Coping Mechanism

That was exactly what my angry girl was for. She was cranky, suspicious and defensive, all in a bid to protect my inner child. She was a lioness guarding her cub. In turn, the ‘adult me’ defended angry girl when my psychologist questioned her, and claimed that she was the most logical one of ‘us’ all, and hence, could be trusted to protect ‘us’. My psychologist said in reply, “what logic?”.

Something snapped in my head with that simple question. I realised just how flawed angry girl’s logic was. As my psychologist gently explained, angry girl wasn’t logical at all. She had twisted and bent logic into a blunt baton, and was using it bash everything and anything that came too close to my inner child. The price to pay for that sterile ‘safety’ was constant sacrifice of potentially positive things, and she was willing to pay that price.

I suppose it is a coping mechanism you learn when you live with excruciating, chronic pain. I remember thinking to myself post mitral valve repair 13 years ago, “I’d rather be in a void devoid of all emotions, good or bad, rather than to be in pain”. Those were actually the beginning days of my depression.

That coping mechanism did more harm than good, as it attempted to shield something that doesn’t need protection - love. Yes, my inner child is vulnerable, fragile and definitely whines quite a bit, but she is also love, and is love the most resilient thing in the world.

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The Original Post I Wrote 8 Years Ago

I never realised that I had an inner child, until my psychologist (let’s call her Rita) guided me to her. Now some of you are already thinking, ‘what a quack’ or ‘what rubbish’, but do a search on Google. You’ll see that it’s a popular method used in psychotherapy.

My inner child was (is) a hot, screaming mess! Boy did she know how to whine, and she’s ever fearful, always panicky. My chronic illnesses and the trauma I had to deal with over the years must have magnified her fears. She doesn’t handle stress well, and starts to shiver and go mental at the slightest hint of it. It’s never difficult to ‘tune in’ to her voice. She’s always there, mostly crying and whining about something. But there are those good days where she’s quiet and content, humming and minding her own business.

Then I have this adolescent whom we call ‘the angry girl’. She’s the grumpy guardian of my inner child, and would question me, the adult, whenever I mixed things up for us. She didn’t appear loving at all, but protected my inner child with a fierce passion. She lived to protect the innocent. Nobody was going to hurt my inner child, especially not me! She would question me, applying logic and fact to her arguments against my actions. But as Rita pointed out, “what logic?” It was often warped, and twisted to suit her in a fit of fear or anger.

We spent many months working on the both of them. Befriending angry girl and gaining her trust wasn’t easy at all. My inner child was happy to tag along, as long as she got her cuddles and reassurances. It took a while before angry girl allowed me to approach my inner child without too much suspicion. I am happy to say that she’s been quieter of late. She spends her time stalking in the background, protecting both of us now.

One surprising realisation that dawned on me, was that I was the adult, the one in charge. I had the power to make decisions for us all, and they had to listen to me at the end of the day. If angry girl thinks that she’s the logical one, I as the adult made more sense. If inner child is hysterical, I as the adult could soothe her. Angry girl would only scream at me and block my way, making everything worse as a result.

I am still a work in progress, and always will be. But I’m grateful to Rita for having brought my awareness to it. One thing that worried me however, was that I’d start to lose my grip on reality, and develop split personalities (pardon my ignorance, DID people). But she said that I was fine as I could differentiate between my selves with clarity.

I would say that my inner child represents my true self, and she’s frightened down to her very toes. She has endured much suffering, while pain and expectations have broken her spirit. As a result, she’s fragile and lacking in confidence. Yet she is quick to put her trust in people again, and it doesn’t take much to keep her content. She’s friendly and happy when she isn’t in panic mode. She is like an innocent child in a field full of spring flowers, full of wonder. When she’s well cared for, my entire being experiences a sense of calm and wellness.

I’m not quite sure who angry girl is, perhaps a manifestation of my protective mechanism. One that may not be the most advanced technology, so to speak, but is still standing despite constant battering. Like a wooden shield up against solid metal maces. She’s not always right, but she manages to keep us alive, somehow. She is quick to analyse everything, including emotions, and processes them in a split second. I often respond to an emotional bid by feeding it into the analytical path first. This results in an emotional distance, where I’m safe from feeling hurt. I find it difficult to feel for the sake of feeling, unless I’m watching or listening to something sad (then the tears come flowing)! (I’ll blame my inner child for this ;)) Affection and physical touch is the only way I know how to connect with others, without first judging the intention. Which can be warped, if you think about it.

And as for myself? The adult me? She is the wise and sensible one, the firm voice who keeps the home intact. She is the key to empowerment, the true protector, the dignified woman. She tempers emotion and approaches logic with humanity. Above all, she is resilient.

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My Favourite Reads This Week

1. Scent Makes a Place (nautil.us)
   “In general, we underestimate the human sense of smell,” he says. “But we notice it a great deal when it is gone. Suddenly, people complain quite vividly about their sense of smell. They can know they are home, see all their stuff, but they don’t feel like they are at home. It’s invasion of the body snatchers.”
   

2. Variations on the Theme of Silence (commonreader.wustl.edu)
   “Silences that close us off, refusing connection, shoring up the ego at others’ expense—those are dead silences. But the letting-go sort, the silences that hold space or keep vigil for someone else? They are alive.”
   

3. Finding Strength in the Slow: My Long COVID Journey (longcovidjourney.com)
   “Long COVID has transformed my life into a series of pauses, commas, and quotation marks. Each day is punctuated by stops and starts, shifts and adjustments—a life dictated by the unexpected twists of a condition that forces you to rewrite your story.”