I shouted at my mum. That’s not true. I love my mum. I recognise I have a very strong relationship with her, I am lucky, I love her, I count her as my best friend who would stand by me through anything. What actually happened was:
I shouted and she was hit. Accidental fire. Blue on blue.
I’m sorry, mum. I love you.
So why did I shout? I didn’t mean to, it wasn’t a conscious thought, was it? Why could I want to shout at someone who only wants to love and protect and help and support me? So who shouted?
Well, obviously, still me.
So what part of me? I think, most likely, the part that didn’t know how else to protect itself, like any cornered animal lashing out at a friendly-intentioned hand. The part that was uncertain, scared, vulnerable, in pain, confused, crying, hiding, lost. The part I’m sure most of us have, that can grow bigger and more prominent, or smaller and faded. The part we can trick ourselves we don’t have because it’s trying so hard not to be seen.
That was the part that shouted at her. Not because it thought shouting would help, but because it had no other cards in its hand.
So what do I do about this? Well, brain, you’re a clever bit of kit, you know how to control emotions. I don’t shout at everyone, all the time. I talk to my mum and open up about my worries which meant that when that scared part panicked, she was there at the receiving end of the attack. So brain, just think next time, instead of going from 0 to shout in less than 60 seconds. Ok?
Well, no.
Because the part that was driving the attack wasn’t a conscious thought, wasn’t logical or rationalised or even sent through the sensible neurons in any sort of way. Just saying to my brain “sort yourself out”, isn’t going to work. This is primal panic, instinct – it takes over and when it does there is little my brain can do. But like the cornered animal it can be comforted, with time, patience, understanding, gentle yet persistent training that “yes, you can trust us, we won’t hurt you”, I think I need to do the same to me. It’s getting meta.
Maybe I just need to say to myself “it’s ok, I know we’re worried, I know we’re scared, I know we’re lost and we feel out of control, but that’s ok. Because I’m here and we’ll get through it. You can talk to me, we’ll figure it out.”
It won’t be a quick fix, life won’t always be roses, but me and my brain? We can get through this, somehow, together.
whenthebrainspeaks 