It hurts when she kicks me.

It hurts when she bites me.

It hurts when she pulls my hair.

It hurts when she spits at me.

It hurts when she throws a clothes horse at me.

It hurts when she tells me she hates me.

It hurts when she tells me that hurting me makes her feel better.

It hurts when she is ready to have a story read or to play two seconds later.

It hurts when I try to talk to people about it and they dismiss it, or minimise it or suggest things that I could do better.

It hurts when I see how much Little wants it to stop.

It hurts when she cannot let me comfort her. Not a hug or a kiss or a smile.

It hurts when she cannot talk about it. When she is still not sure that I am going to help her.

It hurts when I cannot take away any of her pain. When she is still trying to manage all her hurt by herself.

Big is really struggling just now. She’s hurting and her main way of coping with it is to make sure we all hurt too. “I can’t manage this on my own, I need you to have some of it.” Which I understand. But it hurts.


One thought on “Hurt

  1. That sounds amazingly hard and tiring – maybe the bit that shouldn’t hurt but give a glimmer of light is that she can just stop and behave as though nothing as happened.
    It seems to me that you and your loving stable family can only give her a constancy that she has never had. Something she will keep testing because she is unable to trust.
    My only experience of this is my sister in law who spent nearly 2 of her pre school years in hospital with burns in Liverpool whilst her family had moved to Manchester. Her parents only saw her at weekends – they all looked forward to her coming home and couldn’t understand her rejection of them. I don’t think they ever recovered from it – any of them – people were not so aware of psychological damage in the 40’s. By the time I knew her and had figured it out it was far too late to repair.
    You express your feelings really well.

    Liked by 1 person

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