It is hard (whoah it's `a hard) to be honest and transparent about all the squishy stuff I learn about myself. It's squishy. And, meta, squishy is the thing my inner-child was told is to be expressly eschewed with great prejudice.

But I think maybe there's some value in going over what you think you've learned, maybe to cement it a bit. Got to make shame my bitch.

I saw some random touchy-feely youtuber get real had about the soft-science of how your brain works and what a fucking gimp you are if you've got some of the problems I do (...for one. It resonated with me.)

My Even floppier summary of the summary of the inprecice science behind all this.

[get your clipboards ready!!]

The inner child is associated with the lower, simpler, more reactive part of your brain (purposely omits name), which is plummed up to some glands. If your inner-child is unconstrained and is running the show, those glands can get triggered quite a bit more than they would in a healthy adult. The hormones and stuff that physically, literally get squirted into and elevated in your blood makes the inner-child revel. It's just the kind of chaotic shit-smeared kindergarten public classroom where he thrives. So, more gland squirting, more inner-child-gone-wild, vicious circle, docile parallelogram...

Your inner adult lives in the part of your brain that evolved recently. It's the part that can solve problem for banana. It's the "executive". And it is hopeless in the face of this spaztastic inner-child that is currently just having a big `ol time!

When one is "triggered", the inner child gets a prod (he's mid-nap because of his most recent rampage), and off we go again.

I wonder: is it, at the same time, both "as simple as all that" and also "how the fuck are we gonna change this simple thing?"

It seems like it do be like that.

But it has been helpful to watch the inner child wake up, try to understand what his (widdle) motivations are and think them through.

I think little Mikie is pretty fucking pissed off that he is not being recognized as at least a pretty competent and valuable human being. Mikie is red-faced, wide-eyed and heaving, with his teeth all clenched up in fury at the epic injustice of it all.

One thing that wakes little Mikie up and puts a smile on his face is long, "deeply felt" fantasies about what an awesome badass Big Mike is in some certain ways...on occasion, ya know. Sometimes Big Mike will even entertain little Mikie with a fantasy, constructed out of thin air and pure imagination, where he's the rock star. It doesn't even have to have a plot. Just: imagined action --> imagined result. Little Mikie doesn't really even understand that it's not real. He just claps and squeals.

Unfortunately, feeding little Mikie like this keeps him alive, and he's not useful at all. Little Mikie really serves no role. He's got some shit ideas (spastic, without any forethought). If we visit him for "nostalgia" purposes, we're just waking him up again for more fapping.

Wise old Big Mike can give all the advice he wants. Little Mikie ain't gonna listen. But understanding and "owning" this dynamic more makes little Mikie look increasingly more ridiculous. If he ever shuts up, we'll just put him in a museum, I guess; with a little plaque at the bottom saying "Ridiculous". Yes, you exist little Mikie. "Yay, you!"

(Possibly) What got me started here was thinking about my lack of followthrough and how it's...not good. I think in this case maybe Big Mikie is looking at whatever task or thing that needs doing (and completing) and says, as even adults will sometimes, "This is hopeless. What is the fucking point?"

And little Mikie drinks that shit up.