the scale of nothing at all

i find i am going in circles.

i’m not only thinking circular thoughts, but each day pretty much delivers me back to where i set out – a child who wakes in pain, manages to a greater or lesser extent, and is in worse pain again by the end of the day.

we have our third psychotherapy meeting later this week. maybe it is time to try and straighten the path, to understand where we are headed. what is planned? how will psychotherapy help?

so much tiptoes around the edge and is left unsaid. what assumptions are we working with? an anxious child?

we went out last night for a bar snack in Wicken.

my daughter ate at the table. she coped. afterwards, we crossed the road and went to look at the windmill.

Wicken Windmill

we made a short film, to send to a friend. and, because it was not clear, my daughter stood at the foot of the windmill to show the scale of it.

i looked at the clip once we were home. there’s my daughter – dressed in baggy, comfortable clothes (the only clothes she can bear wearing) – clutching her tummy. there’s a moment, towards the end, when she walks back towards me. she is unsmiling, unaware she is being filmed. her face is pulled down with pain.

we took her out for a meal because it is her birthday tomorrow. but whose interest were we serving? hers? ours? it was, ultimately, an unrelaxed time. i was conscious all the time of the need to get her (&, frankly, the whole family) through it. it was clear that she would rather have been at home, where she is comfortable, than being made to sit upright at a table and eat an over-priced plate of ham and chips.

she did her best.

by insisting that we go out, what did i hope to achieve? some blithe reassurance that she is getting better improving? that we have made a tiny step back towards being normal? have we?

circles. circles. circles. how can i know the scale of anything when the path curves towards me so tightly?


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