I brought my notes into the therapists office and told her I wanted to know what this was all about. I’ve noticed that I’m having little mini tantrums around not having time for my creativity. I’m acutely aware that this is not very grown-up or wise but there it is. And my therapist says, “It’s your inner six year-old. She’s having a fit.” Yup!

Seems like every other child in the world, my inner child is entitled to playtime and she knows it. And because she knows I’m not going to give her what she needs, she throws fits. Aha! That is my little id, Freud’s name for our desires and wants, our infant incarnate.

My inner six year-old on Shalavee.com

So I come home with the understanding that I’m going to have to dole out a lot more compassion for my inner Id girl and her need to create as well as cough up some Me-time for her or she’s going to continue to misbehave. And frankly she’s getting on my nerves.

My inner six year-old on Shalavee.com

And simply knowing that this was what was going on seems to have calmed me and her down. Meanwhile, I also discovered in further research that the ego, the second of three parts of our Selves that Freud stated we have, is like the rider to the galloping stallion of the Id. It is there to just help make choices around getting our needs me. And the third part, the Super-ego, is truly the parent making sure you feel guilt for even considering some of these choices.

I decided my Super-ego was a real Beeatch. She’s mean and tells my little id girl that she can’t play because of this obligation or that one. That “children need a mother who will sacrifice her soul to take care of them” said no one ever. Except the Super-ego. So now I’m reigning in all that need to deplete myself for the sake of everyone else stuff and letting my inner child have more playtime daily. I know it seems odd to pull yourself apart but if in doing so, you can put you back together better, why not?

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And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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