If you feel unloved, and you’d like to know why; if you’d like to find out why through your own feelings, then you may find here of some benefit.
Also, if you feel you have repressed memories, then doing your Feeling-Healing will help you liberate all the feelings associated with them, helping you to remember them. About Feeling-Healing: here
Back to be the poor little me, the poor sad and lonely little person who felt unloved, unwanted and always so rejected.
I’m going back to the poor little me that got crunched. Me that no one cared about, that didn’t matter in their lives; me who wasn’t considered, who mostly only received attention when ‘in the way’.
I’m going back to feel the truth of all I felt back then, all those horrible feelings I had to shut out and stop myself from feeling.
I’m going back, slowly descending through my feelings as the hidden and repressed ones surface within me. They are taking me back.
And I remember. I don’t remember so many pictures, but I remember the feelings.
I remember when I felt unloved.
I am going back to be the little me that I have forgotten about; the me I was made to hate; the me they didn’t like – the me I have tried to get rid of.
I’m going back to feel just how bad it was for me, to feel all those bad feelings that are slowly killing me – to feel all my pain.
I am going back to find myself, to re-connect, to join up with those lost parts of me – that me – I left behind.
I’m going back to be with the sad little me, and to finally allow myself to feel my sadness. To feel just how sad I feel about it all. To feel the trauma and tragedy of my life. To feel the waste, the loss, the despair.
I’m gong back allowing myself to be how I am. To be that bad boy they said I was, and to feel just how much they hurt me.
I am going back and I feel good about it. I feel bad, but good about feeling bad. And slowly I am starting to be with myself, ending the rift within me, joining up with the other part of me I fight as my enemy.
Finally I’m going back to accept myself as I feel, to love myself – to just be me.
I hate you! You’re a fucked mother.
Can’t you see, look at your little baby, not out of your womb for more than a few weeks and here it is alone, strapped into its artificial bed on top of a Safeway trolley, crying, while you, in no rush at all, get about unloading the trolley speaking to the check-out woman.
And it cries and cries. Not too loudly, just enough for you to ignore it, and not so loud as to make you want to shut it up so it doesn’t annoy anyone – just more background noise.
I hate you mum for leaving me alone on top of that trolley. You’re ignoring me when I want you the most. I’m scared, alone, there is nothing in this artificial world that makes me feel good, and you’re treating me like I’m just part of the shopping. Next you’ll put me in a bad along with the shopping and off we go home, to that sweet place where you can ignore me even more.
I have been in your womb these past months, doesn’t that mean anything to you, doesn’t it count for anything. I want you, your warmth, your security, your undivided attention. I want your love. I don’t want to be treated like I’m a nuisance, something in the way disturbing your normal life.
I want to be the full centre of your attention. I need to be, I want to be able to express myself to you, to feel you, for you to feel me and respond lovingly.
I need to be close to your heart, to hear that familiar beating, that which tells me everything is okay in my little world and I don’t need to worry. But now I don’t know where you are, you’ve left me, and I’m all alone – how am I going to survive without you.
I feel so scared, why don’t you come to me when I cry. Why aren’t you picking me up when I’m calling out to you, why don’t you want me?
Why don’t you like hearing the sound of me, the noises I make, my crying? I want you, that is why I am crying, and yet you keep leaving me alone. How can I grow up feeling secure and in command of myself and my life when already I feel neglected, unwanted and unloved?
You’re fucking me up mum, you bitch, you shit, you unloving fucking mother who is mine. And nothing I do makes you change. I get the message loud and clear: you don’t want to have a good loving and full relationship with me. You don’t care about me and what I am feeling. You only care about yourself. Okay, so if that is how it is going to be, then kill me. Leave me out in the cold night, let me go, I want to die, I don’t want to be with you. I want to die and be with another mother, one who might love me, one in spirit or some place else, I don’t know where – anywhere but with you.
I want you to be with me, all the time, at least until I feel able to be by myself and show you, you don’t have to hold me every moment of the day. But for now I need that, I need you close to me, I don’t want to be away from you for one second. I need that secure foundation upon which to advance and grow in life; yet without it I am lost, I will not be able to remain true to myself.
Without your love and you wanting me, I am dying, dying before I have already begun. I am losing myself, I won’t be able to fully come out into the world, into my life. I’ll be a part-person, false and untrue.
I am hurting mum, don’t you care. I am in pain, why do you think I’m crying. I’m hungry for your milk, for your kind emotions, for your loving thoughts. I’m hungry for you to love me – to love all of me and to love me always.
I want you mum, don’t let me go.
It’s as though they want me to come out of the womb, being: a fully able to go, and perfectly able to know what do, person.
They act like they expect me to already know all they want. As if I’ve been living with them for years and we all know our roles and what to do. They act like we’re all adults, but it’s not right, I’m only a little child.
They treat me like I’m already supposed to know all about life. So I don’t have to ask any questions, I don’t have to annoy or bother them; I don’t get in their way, I don’t say anything I know I’m not supposed to say. And they get very angry if I am not as they think I should be.
But how can I be already like a grown-up when I’m only a baby, only a little toddler, only a young child; how can I be like this when I’m not even sexually mature, not even a young adult, not even grown up yet. What do they expect – what do they expect of me!
And I can’t be how they want me to be, it’s impossible, yet they don’t seem to see this. They never give up, always on at me: do this, do that, don’t do this, don’t do that; say this, say that, don’t say this, don’t say that; behave like this, not like that, don’t behave like that or we’ll punish you. And I don’t want them to be angry with me. I want them to like me – to love me. But nothing I do is good enough.
And it’s so unfair, I don’t know what to do. I try and try; I try to be how they want me to be. I give up and stop being how I want to be, I stop doing what I want to do, I don’t say what I want to say, and yet still they aren’t happy with me. Will nothing about me ever please them!
And I want to love them. I want them to love me. I want us to all live lovingly together, but they won’t. And why not, I don’t understand. They are my parents, they are the leaders, but they won’t lead in love, only making me hate them. But I don’t want to hate them, I don’t want to hate my own mum and dad, but what can I do?
I feel so bad, so miserable, so upset all the time. There is no worse feeling than when they are yelling at me, making me feel rejected, unwanted and unloved. I don’t like feeling these bad feelings, and I wish they would stop. Why can’t they be nice to me; and why can’t we all be happy together – is that too much to ask?
She always does it to me, she says ‘come on we’re going now’ and I get ready but we don’t go. And she always says it like it’s NOW, we’re in a rush, ‘COME ON WE’RE GOING – NOW!’. And so I have to stop everything I’m doing – NOW! And I do, but then she has to do her hair; then she has to go to the toilet; then she has to answer the phone and talk for ten minutes – ARGH! it’s so maddening. I hate her when she does that. Why can’t she say we’re going now, and we do go? How am I supposed to learn what the words mean when they are not respected. And how can I know to respect her when she says something but doesn’t do it – how can I take her seriously.
Maddy says it’s because mum doesn’t take herself seriously and doesn’t respect the words she speaks. She just speaks them without understanding their meaning. She doesn’t want to care. They are just words, what you do when you want something. It’s all wishy-washy, nothing is as it is, nothing is straightforward, it’s all giving mixed messages, and all because that was all she got as a child.
Mum says come on we’re going now and we don’t go for another half an hour. I get all confused. I get ready, but then nothing happens so I start playing with my toys again, then she yells at me ‘Come on hurry up, I said we have to go NOW!’. But what’s the point of hurrying up as I know if the phone rings she’ll answer it, and I can see she hasn’t got her lipstick on yet. But if I don’t hurry up, even though there is no reason to hurry, she only gets more mad with me, yelling at me more, as if I’m doing it on purpose, delaying, resisting her. And then it all gets into a mad rush at the end. We are late and she yells even more at me, and it’s always the same. I hate it. I hate being with her. I feel all mixed up in my mind, confused – I feel mad.
And if I get angry it only maddens her more and she says angrily: ‘Come on, we don’t have time for that, we’ve got to get going NOW!’. But it’s her doing, it’s not my doing. She’s the one making all the fuss, she’s the one making it all so difficult, and yet she blames me! It’s not fair. What have I done wrong. I’ve had to get ready to go out three times now, and still she’s doing things in the bathroom.
So I get ready, and I wait. I wait and I wait, bored with waiting. But what else can I do. It all has to suit her, it can’t suit me. She can’t do all her things, get ready and not answer the phone, and then tell me we have to go, and we go. I’m already ready, I don’t have to do anything. So why is it that she always has to tell me so far ahead, and then we have to go through the same maddening routine every time. Why can’t she be more true?
What if you can’t have your thing, your special thing, your thing that makes you feel better?
What can you do? The thought of not having it is too excruciatingly painful. To not have that which makes you better, to not have it…NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
I must have it. I must! The pain is too great, it’s horrendeous. It will destroy me, I won’t be able to survive. I must have it, I must, I can’t do without it. I can’t even begin to think about not having it.
Give it to me – quick, I need it – NOW! I need it. I must have it. You don’t understand. I can’t bear it if I don’t have it. You have to give it to me. You can’t withhold it from me, no you can’t. I’ll fight you, I’ll fight you for it. I’ll will. I will kill you for it, nothing will stand in my way, nothing will stop my having it. I must have it. And if you can’t understand that, then fuck you.
You don’t love me. You don’t care about me. You hate me, I know it. Because if you didn’t, if you did really love me, then you’d let me have it, you wouldn’t keep it from me, you wouldn’t stop me.
And I don’t care what you say. You are mean, nasty and horrible and I don’t want to be your friend. I hate you, because you won’t let me have what I want. I hate you, I hate you more than anything in the world. You’re a rotten, nasty person, and I don’t love you – I don’t.
And I never will. It’s too late now. I feel too bad. I don’t now what to do. I can’t do anything. You’ve defeated me. It’s over. Nothing will ever be the same. And you still don’t understand. And how can you – you’ve never understood. You’ve never wanted to understand me.
I am lying on the bed, I want to get off, I want to go over there. But she doesn’t let me. ‘Just stay there will you, don’t move, I have to change you’.
Everything I want to do, she stops me. But it’s my life – why can’t I do in it what I want to do? Why do I always have to do only what she wants me to do? It’s so frustrating and I feel so angry. But my anger doesn’t do anything for me, it only makes her yell at me more – control me more.
So I learn that being angry does nothing for me, only making me feel worse. And it’s far better if I go the other way, so I copy and adopt their falseness. I pretend, like they do, that I am a nice person, that I am kind and caring – even loving. And I develop my false face, my false smile, and I lose myself to the fraud that I am.
And I will go out into the world with my mask on, pretending like everyone else. And I will say ‘have nice day’ as if I care, knowing all a long I don’t care – not one little bit, just as they didn’t care one little bit for me.
I don’t feel them wanting me, I don’t feel any love from them.
I am an inconvenience to her; I am something he rarely thinks about as he goes about trying to organise another business deal. Having children to him is just what you do; having children to her is something that’s turning out to be a huge infringement in her life, something she would rather not do.
She is worried, scared: what if it doesn’t all go well, what if I am deformed in some way, what if something bad happens. No one is there to reassure her as she doesn’t believe anything they say. It’s all too real for her now, not just a nice idea. And she lost her first one before it was born, and doesn’t want to lose this one. She doesn’t want it, but doesn’t want to be seen or thought of as a failure by losing another – this one must survive. She is clinging onto it. She is rejecting it but making it also stay with her. I feel very disturbed. Very confused. Does she want me or not?
I feel disconnected from her and him. I want to belong, to be theirs, to come into their loving world, a loving extension of her loving womb, but the trouble is – I don’t feel loved.
So what am I to do? I don’t want this life, I don’t want it to begin this way. I want it to stop, but I am powerless to do anything, she has all the say, she is holding me in place – there is nothing I can do.
Oh what a horrible life it’s going to be. To come into their relationship feeling unwanted, unwelcome, something that’s an imposition on them both.
As I’m only a baby I can’t ask using words, and as mum isn’t there attending to my needs, I have to attract her attention, telling her I’m hungry. I cry.
She doesn’t want to hear me cry, she hates it when I cry, she doesn’t want to stop doing what she is doing every time I cry. I am not the priority in her life. And I am an inconvenience, a nuisance, a bother, something most times she wishes she’d rather not have to deal with. Yet I can’t help being hungry.
She holds out as long as she can. It takes time to get my bottle ready. She doesn’t offer her breast to me – I don’t know why. She doesn’t make it freely available to me so I can just reach for it whenever I need it. She doesn’t want to be my mother.
When the bottle finally comes it’s not what I want. I want her milk, I don’t want this yuk. But what can I do – nothing – so I have to accept it, and gradually I accept it more, gradually I want it more – it is the only thing I get.
When I am hungry I want to eat, I want to suck on her breast, I want to feel close to her, feeling her lovingly giving herself to me in this way. I want to feel she is there only for me, always for me, to help me coming into being. I want her to give freely herself to me so I can take what I need when I need it. And I want to be the one driving my own life.
When she is not there for me, when her breast is not freely available, then I feel bad, then I can’t meet my needs myself, then I have to cry trying to tell her that I’m not feeling good. But she is deaf to what my crying is really saying, she doesn’t want to know, because the terrible truth is, she doesn’t want to know me.
When I want to eat and can’t do so, then I feel bad because I start to feel powerless, like I have no say in my life. I am coming into being but I can’t make life be how I want it to be, my will is failing. And this makes me feel like I’m dying, I’m losing myself, I’m fading away, I’m losing connection with reality; and I’m very scared, because, what will happen to me. What will happen to me if no one loves me. What will happen to me if my own mother doesn’t love me.
And I know this is how it’s going to be for the rest of my life. She keeps me alive – only just. I am not allowed to die, she can’t be seen as being a bad mother, an unloving mother, she has to keep up the front of being a kind, caring, always-there-for-her-child mother, but that doesn’t do me any good.
And as I grow up I believe and so manifest that life is not there readily available and freely offering everything to me. I have even given up crying having to accept that I am always hungry. I will grow up feeling powerless and unable to do anything about it. I won’t be able to meet my own needs, I won’t be self-willed, self-determining; I will always be dependent on others hoping they look after me. And I will learn to be grateful for the little bit I get, the little bit that comes my way. It will never be exactly what I want, but ‘beggars can’t be chooses’ and that is how it was for me. I had to be grateful that she did pay some attention to me, that she did finally feed me and did give me a bottle.
And I will grow up not being able to effectively get what I want, to live how I want to live, because I never experienced how to live this way when I was a baby. I will grow up knowing that even if I did try to call out, did demand, did try to get what I want, that no one will listen, no one will care, no one will want to hear what I have to say.
I will grow up feeling very alone, unloved and very angry about my useless pathetic life – about my own uselessness and being so pathetic that I can’t make life be how I want it to be.
‘Look at your mother!’
‘No.’
‘Don’t speak that way to me!’
‘SCREAM!’
It’s so maddening, so much control they want to have, and it’s all so easy for them. Always being told what to do, always being told I can’t be how I want to be. And this is what they call being loved and living in a loving family. They need to have their heads read!
Childhood Repression and Feeling-Healing 
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