Okay, that opening sentence isn’t one hundred percent true. It’s more like I’m out on the porch hiding from my inner child because it’s a spoiled brat and I seriously cannot take another second of this nonsense.
I wasn’t having the easiest day, work was wailing away on the giant walls I’ve built to keep out all the stress and negativity, and I was in danger of losing my poise and turning to the dark side.
As I tend to do in such dire situations, I increased the power to the shields that protect my walls, and then called upon my inner child to come out and play. Sure, it might not seem at all logical to turn over control of my life to an immature, highly unpredictable version of myself, but experience has taught me that sometimes it’s fun to just roll the dice.
Of course, what happened next didn’t come as an absolute shock, but that doesn’t mean I was pleased with how things unfolded.
At a time when I needed my inner child to rescue me from the overwhelming pitfalls of adulthood, it decided to tell me to go @#$% myself, kicked me in the shins, and ran off screaming at the top of its lungs with my car keys and wallet in tow.
My name is Austin, and my inner child is a spoiled brat.
I’m no expert at psychology, but I think that my inner child has some issues and thinks I’m a jerk. I was a lightweight back then, both literally and philosophically.
I was short, skinny as a stick, and extremely shy. The only Deep Thoughts I ever had were about Star Wars, the Yankees, and how I was going to survive another day of being bullied by the kids at school and by a stepmother who was never satisfied with anything I did.
It goes without saying that my inner child has a lot of pent up aggression from all the crap it had to take back in the day, and now it’s acting out against me. It makes perfect sense that deep down, I’m mad at myself for not being tougher, more confident, and less of a target in my youth.
Now I’m paying the price and I suppose I deserve every temper tantrum, deafening screech, and demand for more attention. While I wish my inner child would be nice and polite when I invite it out to play, it’s probably better for me in the long run to deal with these ridiculous outbursts and placate my internal demon.
Because a lot of the people I deal with on a daily basis are no better than my inner child. The world confuses me, exhausts me, and never seems to stop taking delight in kicking me in the balls.
I’m sure that’s all an exaggeration from a tired, frustrated mind that really wishes it could spend the day thinking up silly, witty stories and coming up with new, romantic ways to make the most important person in my life happy.
It’s like I’m at war with myself, and both sides are losing. How do I ground my inner child without punishing me?
Maybe someone can just wake me up when my inner child has finally tired itself out and fallen asleep for the night.
Being an adult really sucks at times, and the hardest part might be keeping myself in line…
Follow me on Pinterest or my inner child will pee all over your couch!