Strong taste, bitter and pine-likeGreat friendliness and lightness. Dancing.
The mother scolds the child for doing something wrong. There is an atmosphere of: I am not right, but that is danced away. Not wanting to feel the pain. There is a world of pretence, outwardly pretending that everything is fine.
An irrepressible strong force and energy that is kept under wraps. I am not allowed to be who I want to be and I no longer feel who I really am.
A 4-year-old child stands alone, confused, bewildered and sad. I am only granted a brief glimpse of the pain, then everything disappears into flatness. There are hard, strict rules and relentlessness. I endure these rules by feeling nothing anymore. I go into my own bubble, into my own world.
I imagine that everything is fine and right, but every feeling is wrapped in a soft veil.
War traumata. Traumata where something was seen and heard, where something was too much. For example, children who see something brutal on television too early. It is briefly remembered, then it slips away again and seems to be no longer there.
Drifting off, sleeping so as not to feel anything.
Loss of appetite and slight nausea.