beetle

I think not having a time in my life where I was allowed to be totally dependent has kept part of me forever frozen at that developmental stage: Always needing someone to hang on to, to cling to when I'm afraid or uncertain.

It's really quite a small thing, as a percentage of my average day; but when I get stuck there and there's no one to turn to for comfort? I suddenly become, emotionally, that terrified infant again. That baby with arms and legs she can't control, a body she can't move around, lying there helplessly, unable to change her situation. She screams and flails (huh, just like the beetle! So that's where that image comes from!) ineffectively, and this big face looms at her and smiles, as if her antics are merely entertaining.

Somehow this person who's supposed to be my surrogate arms and legs has no clue that I need her (or his) HELP! I'm not just flailing to amuse myself! My howls, my terrified, wailing face, are a cry for succor, for HELP, you fucking idiots! Who the hell allowed you two to be parents, anyway? Jesus fucking H. Christ on a toothpick. I want a do-over.