Four Crying Out Loud

I don't speak of him much.  He was in my life for such a brief season and I was so young.  Sometimes I recall bits and pieces, but not much of it is significant.  My mother had been dating him for some time and took us to visit him at his home.  He was the radiologist at the local hospital and his house proved it.  I first noticed his refrigerator.  It had a real ice maker and real water dispenser.  I pushed its black lever and the water shot out onto my hand.  His wallpaper had a shimmer and a velvet, intricate design.  I traced my fingers over the blue  pattern.  My walls at home were painted.  He showed us the upstairs; five bedrooms.  My bedroom at home was my mother's room.  My sisters shared a bedroom and a bed.  He had a "sitting room" which was a large ballroom with a fireplace.  We had no fireplace at my house and with only five rooms in our house, we would not have been able to designate one specifically for "sitting".  On his living room walls, se

Feelings should be nurtured, shared spontaneously, controlled when necessary, expressed when too long repressed, and explored with trusted others.  The Troubled and Troubling Child, Dr. Nicholas Hobbs, 1982. When I get really angry, I could hit someone, but hit myself?  Never.  What would that solve?  Hitting someone else would make me feel loads better.  Hitting myself would only make me feel and look worse.  I know a young boy who hits himself when he gets really angry or feels out of control.  He punches himself in the nose and it bleeds.  Everywhere. He has trusted support staff who work with him each day.  They have spent an enormous amount of time trying to figure out how to help him have good days to replace all of the bad days he has experienced in his short life.  They know that he likes for his head to be scratched, that when he leans in on you, he wants a hug; that he likes peanut butter, riding bikes, and being tickled.  His staff also know that once he