It may be your wounded little self that needs the wise you to stay integrated with all of your mind and brain parts working together, talking to each other, as one cell carries one message to another cell and working for your beneHit at its best performance and keeping shame from hijacking your brain. Think of it this way: it’s like you have a village of little exile parts, managers of all ages in different stages of your life, as well as HireHighters that show up in addiction, shopping, eating, drugs/alcohol, perfectionism, you name it. They’re all a part of this little village that lives inside you. You can talk to them anytime; no one but you knows what’s going on inside your head. The shame part loves to be the Hirst to remind you, “ I can’t believe you did that again; you said you were going to stop; didn’t you say you would never do that again? You were done; you’re such a failure; you’ll never change.” A good question to ask in a fragmented moment is, “Who’s voice is this? Could it be the voice of a caretaker in your life? How old is this part that is showing up? Know that part and be familiar with it; you can call it the critic, the judge, but know it well because it can destroy you if you allow it to have its way any longer. Speak to it, remind it that it’s taking too much room in your head, that you have no tolerance for this abusive talk. You’re done, not today, and give the wise self permission to take over, the one who needs to control all parts. Some parts, like the dissociative parts, believe they are protecting you. A painful memory is triggered, and the dissociative part is right there to keep you from feeling the shame and emotional pain of a particular memory. Jack, for example, was shamed as a child when he cried at the loss of his childhood pet. “Only sissy’s cry, his dad told him, toughen up and be a man. A few years later, when his grandpa died, he noticed his dad never shed a tear. He couldn’t understand how his dad could show no emotion when all he felt at Grandpa’s funeral was sadness and tears welling up inside him. Later that day, his dad told him to buck up, “Big boys, don’t cry.”
Jack learned at a young age that being true to your feelings was unsafe. He no longer was able to be true to his feelings without shame, reminding him, “Only sissy’s cry, buck up.” This criticism became loud enough that his managers could no longer hold back, and his HireHighters came to his rescue. He found his dad’s pornography stash in the bottom of his dresser drawer while hunting for a jackknife. At eleven, he had never seen anything of this sort. His curiosity got the best of him. He hid one under his shirt while ensuring the rest were intact as he found them. Jack got lost in the hours of combing through the magazine and losing track of himself and time. He eventually got good at trading one magazine for another in his dad’s drawer and spending more and more time in a world of fantasy. A world that kept the feelings and thoughts from crossing over and reminding him of how worthless he was. The makings of an addiction have a level of tolerance. The internet delivers; it makes it easy for the curious mind to hunt down and persevere for the next big hit.