I even associate the feeling with a sort of shameful self-pity, probably because I cried and whined a lot (too much, my parents say) as a little girl and was usually told that I was making a fuss over nothing.
[As an interesting aside, the same thing happened, I'm told, when I broke my wrist initially. I fell off a piece of playground equipment, landed on my wrist, and wailed and carried on for minutes afterwards. My older brother and I were in a summer play group, and even when he told the leaders with all sincerity that even his whiny baby sister didn't usually cry this much, the leaders in their wisdom told us both that I was fine and I should stop crying. Eventually, I guess I did. It wasn't until hours later, playing out in the back yard, that I took a second tumble – whiny and clumsy, I guess – and hit the same place on my wrist and screamed an unholy scream. My mom came to take a look and found that my wrist was purple-black around the place it had been fractured. Vindication!]
I don't think I've ever told anyone that before, but that's where I feel pain physically when I'm hurting emotionally. Isn't it weird, the places our bodies choose to carry trauma?
Anyone have a weird thing they've never told to anyone before? Anonymous comments turned on and IP logging off, if anyone wants to share without sharing their identity too.
- Mood:
disappointed