[Bach]

I have been ill with a flare-up of chronic digestive problems, and in the course of dealing with it stumbled across a helpful way to relax my gut and bridge the gap between my conscious knowledge of the physical symptoms and areas of trouble caused by my traumas and the vast mostly-unknown which is, which traumas are stored where, and what needs to be done to soothe those parts.

I've been doing EFT tapping since last summer with the Tapping Solution app.  I've found it useful for certain meditations.  Although it's limited in that most of the language used in the guided meditations doesn't apply very well for me, I like the soothing voice and tapping resonates well with the acupuncture and acupressure treatments I've been receiving for many years.  For several months I was conscientiously taking time every day to spend at least a few minutes on the meditations, and while I felt that was helpful in small ways, I had not been able to develop a feel for how I could effectively use my own language for tapping.  I got to a point a couple of weeks ago when it was becoming very hard to keep doing because of the limitations.  Then, a few days ago, I decided to try one of the meditations that I haven't done in a while.  It didn't work brilliantly, but enough that I decided to try it again yesterday.  While I was doing it, I suddenly found myself tuning in to the needy baby part of me that lives in my stomach, understanding how that part of me feels and what it needs, using my own words to tap.  I knew that she was hungry so I envisioned breast-feeding her until she was all full of good nutrition,  cuddling her and feeling her baby warmth, nuzzling her fuzzy little baby head with my face.  I told her that it was safe to go to sleep and that I would take good care of her and chew my food very thoroughly so that it doesn't hurt her on its way through her home down there in my gut.  Then I envisioned that she was sleeping relaxed and soundly, like a baby has a right to sleep, and while she slept, her body was using all the good fuel to build her a nice strong digestive system.  I envisioned that she would wake up and be all fat and sassy and happy and full of gurgly smiles.  It was very powerful.  It was the first time I felt that I had any kind of grasp on how some of the IFS stuff can help beyond just being stories to tell myself that help me make some sense of my life.

This afternoon I did a similar but different meditation and tuned in to angry Middle B.  She doesn't want me to go into it right now but says she will tap with me again. 

[notalone]

Bach, I'm sorry that you've been ill.

Beautiful that baby part was able to receive such warm nurturing. That experience sounds very powerful.

My care to Middle B. It's okay that she doesn't want to share now. 

[Bach]

notalone Middle B thanks you for your care and hugs. 

Middle B said that it's okay if I write a little bit about her today.  She's in a lot of pain from her anger but she doesn't understand what she's feeling because none of it makes sense.  Nothing in her world makes sense.  It makes sense to Self in the Now, but my intestines are the storehouse for her confusion and distress, and I really don't know what she needs.  What the Baby needed the other night was pretty straightforward, but I don't know what Middle B needs.

Something strange that Middle B used to do was eat prunes and swallow the pits.  She did that because she thought it was gross to spit them out.  She did that with cherry pits too, and chewed gum.  She was probably told at some point that you're not supposed to swallow those things, but not why, not that they could hurt her tummy and give her problems going poo.  She did have problems going poo.  Once she had constipation so bad it left a little blood on the toilet paper.  She told her mother, who rather eagerly took her to the doctor, but lost interest when the doctor told her mother that she wasn't sick.  The doctor must have given her mother some advice, but we don't remember anything being done about it.  A few days later, Middle B reported to her mother that she had gone poo and it was "Hard, as rock, hurts like *, no blood" and her mother dismissed her, saying something like "I'm not interested.  I wash my hands of your *." 

Middle B really liked to eat.  Self in the Now realises that Middle B must have been trying to quiet Baby.  The Mother's twisted relationship with food complicated matters.  Self in the Now needs to focus very closely on eating responsibly.  Eating responsibly is not a simple thing.  It's not just eating the right things, but also eating them in the right quantities, and in the right way.  I've been grappling with the first two of those things for many years now.  The third is a matter of chewing.  I eat too fast, and don't chew thoroughly enough.  Middle B is desperately afraid of not getting enough to eat.  Not being given enough.  Not having enough time to finish.  Not being able to quiet Baby.  I wonder how much Middle B knew about Baby.  Or about anything that drove her, anything at all.  Did she just stumble through life with absolutely no rhyme or reason, no idea what was going on or why she did anything?  I'm sure that isn't the case, especially because the other day I did get some glimmerings of a happy sunshiny winning and charming Middle B.  But she wants me to stop now, so I will.

[sanmagic7]

i don't doubt middle B had reasons for doing what she did, even if they were vague, unformed, or didn't make sense to anyone else.  i felt float-y through a great portion of my life, didn't understand it at the time, didn't even realize it till years later how very ungrounded i was.  today, i can see it as a survival mechanism because i was so unformed as a person. very little personal boundaries or stability, i think it made it easier to not be troubled by things around me, not take things personally, not feel the pain that i'm now sure was a large part of my younger life. and i, too, can see glimpses of smiles and happy and fun and enjoyment, but they floated away when reality became overwhelmingly difficult to navigate.  laughter may have saved me, but there was little feeling of feeling what laughter represented inside.

you're making strides, bach, small or large, they all count.  keep taking care of you and all of those lovely parts of you, as best you can.  love and hugs

[notalone]

Bach and Middle B: Thank you for sharing. That was brave. I'm sure there is/was a reason for Middle B's feelings and for the things she did. I believe in time things will come to light.

[Bach]

san and notalone, thank you so much for reading and replying.  I'm in a sea of confusion and fear, and it's so reassuring to have support

The essence of the existential dilemma of B is the fear of feeling good and being well.  This is probably true of all the Bs, and definitely true of Middle B, who feels she should not be singled out, but who understands that the active pursuit of feeling unwell as a means of protection started with her.  She knows that it's something we will have to work on in the future, but for now we're giving her some time to rest and grow skin again after all the exposure she has been subjected to in the past several weeks.  I will take care of her, cuddle her, keep her warm, and not allow her to eat whatever she wants.  She WANTS those healthy boundaries.  She craves them and is frightened without them.  That's why she careens back and forth from overeating to undereating. 

[Snowdrop]

Reading about the care you're showing towards the baby part and Middle B made me feel soft inside. It made my parts feel safe and cherished on behalf of yours.