Oy. There are not words to describe our first three weeks of middle school, but I will, of course, write a whole slew of them anyway.
The first week of middle school was great. Trauma Kid (TK) loved the bus, loved her teachers, was happy and calm.
The second week of middle school......weeeeeeeeelllllll, not so much. She came home Mon screaming that a girl was calling her names. She was slamming doors, throwing things, sobbing for hours on her bed, screaming Everyone hates me! I hate this stupid school! ......basically reverting back to trauma behavior I haven't seen in years. Tues afternoon was pretty much a carbon copy of Monday. Wednesday about 1/2 hour before the bus arrived I got a call from a school administrator (heretofor noted as SA) wanting to discuss some "incidences" with TK - that basically involved TK screaming at other girls on the bus and in the hall. She also picked up something another child dropped at lunch and put it in her lunchbox. I flipped when SA told me that - that 's a new behavior. (Her counselor, when I told her, said, "Well, TK does gets handsy when she's nervous.")
We had to cut the conversation short as TK was walking in the door.
Wednesday TK came into the house in full-on trauma mode She ran to her room, kicking a few cats along the way and threw herself on her bed, weeping hysterically. Having been caught short by SA myself, I jumped on the catastrophe train. In my head I was already looking at home school options, trying to figure out if she could handle going back to her old school and being the only girl there, trying to find a different small school.......I had already given up. Trauma Mom epic fail. At least I did this all internally and didn't voice it to TK.
I sat next to her as she sobbed, my brain in full on panic mode, but externally calm. When she finally calmed a little, she said that SA hated her. I told her I expected SA had the role of being the bad cop, and I wondered if that was a hard job. TK admitted it might be. She thought for a while and said maybe SA didn't hate her. I was wise enough to stay quiet and let her work it out. I was still about 70% sure we were going to have to run away. TK finally calmed down enough to go to volleyball practice. Suffice to say I didn't even mention homework! That evening I emailed SA to let her know TK thought she hated her and it would be good if she had time to seek out TK and try to start anew. I told TK the same thing.
To my surprise and delight, SA emailed me Thurs AM to tell that TK had indeed walked into SA's office before school started and asked if they could walk and talk sometime that day. (I had told SA that TK regulates through movement, so walking and talking would probably be a better option than sitting across the table.) They did indeed walk and talk. More on that in a minute.
Thurs AM I had a conversation with a sweet friend who called me on my own trauma response. He challenged my reaction, and pointed out that I was operating from fear just as TK was. I realized that when threatened (real or imagined threat), TK goes into fight mode; I go into flight mode. My friend challenged me to view the situation with the school/my upcoming meeting with SA not as a battle (which I very much was) but as an opportunity. He was dead on. I mulled on that quite a bit and was able to shift my mindset before my meeting with SA. It was a very good meeting. She seemed to understand trauma, at least somewhat, and took a lot of notes about what behaviors are "warning signs", how to deal with a trauma outbreak, and, most importantly, the need for "safe" people. I was hopeful when I left.
TK came home Thursday and said, "SA really DOESN'T hate me. She just has to be the bad guy. We walked around the school and talked. Her office is right by my locker and I can go there anytime I need to breathe/take a break. She also told my teachers I was allowed to leave the room to take a short walk if I needed to. I think she's a good safe person. I also met the guidance counselors and they are good safe people too." I can't even tell you how big my sigh of relief was.
SA also changed TK's schedule so she has study focus (basically study hall) for her last period. That replaced Spanish, which takes one more academic stress off and gives her time to work on her homework. It's with her favorite teacher, so bonus points.
Things have been much calmer this week. Homework remains a challenge. The dysgraphia and the trauma combined make mental organization a challenge for her, but she is very resistant to my "help" when it comes to organizing her homework schedule. I am walking a fine line between letting her fail and making sure she doesn't feel like a failure.
There was some girl drama this week with a friend who told TK to "go away, I'm mad at you." TK was upset but rather than blow up at the girl she went to the guidance counselor and talked about it. She was still upset but in control. I was blown away - she surprises me sometimes with her maturity. I told her how impressed I was by that. I think that could only happen because she has safe people at school now, for which I am beyond grateful.
I got a bit less hopeful when I talked with one of the counseling staff about meeting with TK's teachers to share information about her trauma stuff, and she responded, "I talked to her teachers and she's doing great in all her classes. I don't think we need a meeting. If something happens we'll certainly react to it." I was so stunned I let it slide.....for now. I'll approach it again in a bit.
The majority of TK's teachers are amazing, willing to work with her and ensure her success. There's one who is a little challenging, but TK and I agree that having just one is pretty good!
I am exhausted, but awash in grace..... the grace of a friend who loves me enough to challenge me to change my thinking, the grace of a courageous 11 year old who is rising above her fear, the grace of an SA who is taking time to work with one of the thousand kids at her school.
Take heart, trauma mamas. I hope you have someone to challenge you when you devolve into fear. Remember that even in your worst moments, you are healing your child and your family. And that, dear trauma mamas, is an amazing grace.
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