I love this thread! From my earliest memories, I would fantasize about my *real* parents (I imagined myself as a scabby-kneed, dirt-stained Cinderella), and our relationship. I would dream about them, and talk to them whenever I could. I believe this saved my sanity as a kid, because those parents were gentle and kind, and when they were with me, I didn't feel alone.
So now, with the encouragement of my therapist, I find opportunities to parent the little me inside. I will take her on a hike, and let her explore and get dirty and ask questions, and most importantly for me, I tell her that she's safe, and valued, and loved. I don't think it's as crazy as it sounds, although I admit, it sounds pretty damned crazy. :confused: