That, my friends, is 8 out of 19 days of winter break we have survived. Almost halfway there. If you have never counted down the days during a break, you probably don't have a trauma kid (TK) in your family/circle. Because I count down every break - 3 day ones are pretty doable, one week ones are tough, and the long ones - like now - are a struggle.
Many TKs (like mine) thrive on structure and sameness, predictability and schedules. TK is very flexible within a structure, but a complete lack of structure leaves her feeling adrift and unsure. The first few days are fine, but by day 6 or so she becomes more needy (pat me to sleep, let me sleep in your room) and more easily dysregulated. Of course right now that is compounded by the hormone swings of puberty, so it's a double whammy.
Thanksgiving break had some challenges for us. It reminded me that while TK has come far on this healing journey, she is still overwhelmed and prone to dysregulation when we are with large groups of people that are important to us. She feels she is competing for attention and acceptance, and this often leads to a resurgence of trauma behaviors - sometimes physical but more often verbal. Some say this is because she is the only child of a single mom, so she is accustomed to being the center of attention. That is quite possibly part of it, but much of it is the scarcity mentality so common in trauma kids. If someone else is getting the attention/manifestation of love, there's less for me. This is worse in "high risk" situations- when the people involved are all dearly loved, even the hint of rejection is devastating.
So we've kept our world small this break. This means we have had a scant few visits with our loved ones, a few people at a time. The plus side of this is TK has not felt the fear of rejection, and our loved ones have not had to deal with a dysregulated TK. The down side of this is I am the sole provider of emotional support, the entertainer, and the recipient of all dysregulation and puberty moments.
The part that is still, to steal TK's word, confuzzling to me is how well TK does in social situations at school and other peer environments, but she falls back into massive fear of rejection when older kids and adults are involved. I'll have to ponder that one for a while and see what bubbles up.
So we have 11 days to go. In the first 8 days I've had about 2 hours without TK; I expect that will be about the same for the next 11 days. But we will, as always, do what needs to be done and handle it. Not always with grace, but always with love.
Hang tough during your "time off" (yes, I'm laughing - or crying!), trauma mamas. I know only too well how hard it is to make your TK's world small, and I know the price you pay for that. Grab the grace that comes with doing what is best for your TK. We can do this, trauma mamas.
Sending you grace to get through the holidays. Feel free to send some back in return.
Thursday, December 29, 2016
Thursday, December 1, 2016
Trauma Mama - emphasis on the Mama
I am pretty well versed in trauma, yet it still confounds me at times. I am a good resource to a lot of folks who are in the hot and heavy trauma battle, yet still struggle with the intermittent, ever-changing way trauma presents in our house, and how to deal with the fallout. That's what this blog is about - dealing with fallout.
Thanksgiving was okay, considering we had 9 days of nearly 24/7 mom/Trauma Kid (TK) time. On Thanksgiving day we went to a family dinner and got to love on the newest baby (TK LOVES little kids - the under 4 set are her favorite people) and all seemed okay. On the way home we got a phone call saying TK had kicked someone during the family soccer game. It was news to me as I had been playing watchdog to the little ones on the slide. Unfortunately the conversation started rather abruptly, with "I heard you kicked X. Why did you kick her?" TK immediately went into survival mode and said she didn't do it, that X had tripped her and she'd talk to the caller about it later (we were on the speaker in the car). I didn't bring it up on the rest of the car ride because I knew she was in fear mode and nothing good would happen if we pursued it at that point. We got home and TK went into her room and hibernated. I was okay with that as I knew she was decompressing from having a lot of people around and the phone call.
I continued the conversation via text. A lot came up, and I'm still not sure what to do with it all. I heard that TK did something very rude and disrespectful this summer, that the folks feel they are walking on eggshells around her because they so desperately want her to be comfortable but aren't sure how to accomplish that and she's so unpredictable. I had a very mixed response. My first response was to shut down and hide. When it comes to fight, flight, or freeze, TK is all about the fight and I'm all about the flight! I spent the next two days heartbroken and sobbing. Then I spent two days furious and ready to fight. My anger was mostly around hearing about something that happened this summer. We have worked REALLY hard to deal with things as they arise, make it right to the best of our ability, and move on. So hearing something old dredged up felt like an attack to me, and it seemed really unfair. I couldn't do anything about it now except stew on it. Luckily I don't have the fight response, and am old enough to know that time is key to moving through emotional turmoil, so I purposely just let it sit until I could view it all with calmness and recognize the information was provided as just that - information, not condemnation. I forget that others don't know what causes those rude outbursts nor how to deal with them. I am grateful that they are trying to be sensitive to the trauma journey, and at the same time frustrated that no one but me knows how to handle it. And let's be real, sometimes even I don't know how to deal with it.
Once I moved past sadness/hurt and anger, I was just, as TK says, confuzzled. I still lean toward running, for a variety of reasons. (Let me clarify that this is our local, "adopted" family - dear dear friends who have included us in their family and accepted us with all our baggage.) Obviously TK doesn't trust the family's love yet -----she kicked X because she tripped when X went for the ball, and folks saw TK trip. So she looked, to TK's trauma brain, like a failure; failures aren't lovable; they won't love me. So she reverted to fear mode and lashed out. I also don't want them to feel like they have to walk in fear around her, waiting for the next explosion. And I don't want to spend every gathering in fear, always in high alert for any remote evidence that things could go south. And I don't want to go through another three days where TK feels less than, which she did after this occurred. She felt unloved, untrusted, and rejected. Thus the whole "trusting the love" thing. I suppose it is too much to ask her to trust that any other people could love her unconditionally......it took her years to believe that I did.
On the plus side, TK wasn't thrown for a loop for nearly as long as she would have been a year ago. And her reaction was less extreme than it would have been. She tested my love a few times, purposely pushing some buttons to see what would happen. Luckily I knew where her head was, and I was able to call on my Trauma Mama heart and respond correctly.
So there you have it. This Trauma Mama is still "confuzzled". Sometimes we focus so much on our TK's struggles that we don't stop to recognize or validate our own. So I'm telling myself, and you, it's okay to be confuzzled sometimes. You won't always have the right answers, or even any answer. Sometimes you just have to walk through it step by step and deal with it as it comes. Clarity will come at some point. Hang tough til it does, Trauma Mamas. That's what I'm trying to do.
Thanksgiving was okay, considering we had 9 days of nearly 24/7 mom/Trauma Kid (TK) time. On Thanksgiving day we went to a family dinner and got to love on the newest baby (TK LOVES little kids - the under 4 set are her favorite people) and all seemed okay. On the way home we got a phone call saying TK had kicked someone during the family soccer game. It was news to me as I had been playing watchdog to the little ones on the slide. Unfortunately the conversation started rather abruptly, with "I heard you kicked X. Why did you kick her?" TK immediately went into survival mode and said she didn't do it, that X had tripped her and she'd talk to the caller about it later (we were on the speaker in the car). I didn't bring it up on the rest of the car ride because I knew she was in fear mode and nothing good would happen if we pursued it at that point. We got home and TK went into her room and hibernated. I was okay with that as I knew she was decompressing from having a lot of people around and the phone call.
I continued the conversation via text. A lot came up, and I'm still not sure what to do with it all. I heard that TK did something very rude and disrespectful this summer, that the folks feel they are walking on eggshells around her because they so desperately want her to be comfortable but aren't sure how to accomplish that and she's so unpredictable. I had a very mixed response. My first response was to shut down and hide. When it comes to fight, flight, or freeze, TK is all about the fight and I'm all about the flight! I spent the next two days heartbroken and sobbing. Then I spent two days furious and ready to fight. My anger was mostly around hearing about something that happened this summer. We have worked REALLY hard to deal with things as they arise, make it right to the best of our ability, and move on. So hearing something old dredged up felt like an attack to me, and it seemed really unfair. I couldn't do anything about it now except stew on it. Luckily I don't have the fight response, and am old enough to know that time is key to moving through emotional turmoil, so I purposely just let it sit until I could view it all with calmness and recognize the information was provided as just that - information, not condemnation. I forget that others don't know what causes those rude outbursts nor how to deal with them. I am grateful that they are trying to be sensitive to the trauma journey, and at the same time frustrated that no one but me knows how to handle it. And let's be real, sometimes even I don't know how to deal with it.
Once I moved past sadness/hurt and anger, I was just, as TK says, confuzzled. I still lean toward running, for a variety of reasons. (Let me clarify that this is our local, "adopted" family - dear dear friends who have included us in their family and accepted us with all our baggage.) Obviously TK doesn't trust the family's love yet -----she kicked X because she tripped when X went for the ball, and folks saw TK trip. So she looked, to TK's trauma brain, like a failure; failures aren't lovable; they won't love me. So she reverted to fear mode and lashed out. I also don't want them to feel like they have to walk in fear around her, waiting for the next explosion. And I don't want to spend every gathering in fear, always in high alert for any remote evidence that things could go south. And I don't want to go through another three days where TK feels less than, which she did after this occurred. She felt unloved, untrusted, and rejected. Thus the whole "trusting the love" thing. I suppose it is too much to ask her to trust that any other people could love her unconditionally......it took her years to believe that I did.
On the plus side, TK wasn't thrown for a loop for nearly as long as she would have been a year ago. And her reaction was less extreme than it would have been. She tested my love a few times, purposely pushing some buttons to see what would happen. Luckily I knew where her head was, and I was able to call on my Trauma Mama heart and respond correctly.
So there you have it. This Trauma Mama is still "confuzzled". Sometimes we focus so much on our TK's struggles that we don't stop to recognize or validate our own. So I'm telling myself, and you, it's okay to be confuzzled sometimes. You won't always have the right answers, or even any answer. Sometimes you just have to walk through it step by step and deal with it as it comes. Clarity will come at some point. Hang tough til it does, Trauma Mamas. That's what I'm trying to do.
Saturday, November 5, 2016
the new face of the trauma beast
I'm not quite sure where this blog entry is headed, but I wanted to write anyway. We seem to be in a weird place - not sure how much is just normal tween stuff and how much is trauma stuff. I think it doesn't really matter, because the end result is the same -a dysregulated Trauma Kid (TK) who feels "not enough."
I may well meander more than normal (which I know is saying something!), so buckle up and read on.
TK has been much more quiet than normal the last two weeks. I pretty much wrote it off to tween hormone stuff. She would come home, talk to me for 5 minutes, head to her room, do her homework (usually while facetiming her friend), and watch some soccer videos on YouTube when homework was done. Then we'd go outside and play some volleyball or study on the trampoline for 30 minutes or so, then she'd hunker back down in her room. I let her.......partly because I was glad for the quiet (honest, as always!) and partly because I figured she just needed that quiet time right now. But mostly I was glad for the quiet. In retrospect, I should have pushed for more connection time...as will be apparent as my story unwinds.
Fast forward to yesterday. TK had a rough day at school. Her teachers and administrators are great, but there is one teacher she just doesn't trust, so she struggles to connect with her. This teacher has called out TK on more than one occasion, usually in front of the whole class. Once she told her she was the reason the class wasn't moving through the information faster, once she told her she was "consistently disrespectful to her classmates", and Friday she told her she was lying and "crying won't work with me, so don't bother". (You all know I don't accept what she says at face value, as I know it gets skewed by her TK's perspective. But her perception is her reality, so I have to deal with that.) Did TK lie? Could well be. When most kids are stressed they resort to a lie to avoid getting into trouble. But when a TK is stressed they can't help but lie. Their brain is in fear mode and rational thinking stops. They feel they have to lie to save their life. Confronting them in that moment just heightens the fear and makes them double down.
Unfortunately I haven't ever met with this teacher and had the chance to explain any of this. I had one email conversation with her at the beginning of the year and it was not a positive experience. Her response was terse and rude and she called out TK the next day in class. So I am struggling with how to proceed.
On top of that, we have some dear friends whose lives have been very busy and we haven't been able to connect much lately. They've had lots of things going on and she hasn't been included, so she's feeling very abandoned and rejected. We've talked about cycles and how sometimes you have more time with your friends and sometimes you have less, but that didn't offset the feeling of rejection. It's nearly impossible to offset that feeling with logic. All of this played into today, though it took me much longer to figure that out than it should have.
TK had decided she wanted to sign up for basketball, mostly to stay in shape for volleyball, which she loves. We got the basketball schedule and the practices START 15 minutes before her bedtime. We talked about her practicing for half the practice and coming home, and she said she'd rather quit. I told her to at least go to the team meeting today and see what they say. She lost it. I, woefully, responded in kind. I told her I had paid over $100 for this and she was at least going to go listen or she could start selling stuff to repay me. It escalated quickly, as anyone with trauma experience would know (you would think. My duh.) I went to my room to calm down and she followed me, screaming and crying. "I'm sorry I don't want to go. I'm going to be horrible and everyone will laugh at me. I don't remember anything. I'm sorry about the money. I'll just go and be horrible and be humiliated. I feel like I'm always disappointing you and making you mad. I don't think you even want me around most of the time. Sometimes it feels like you don't love me." Ouch. I started crying, told her I was sorry she had such a lousy mom, then took a deep breath, turned on my Trauma Mama mode, and tried again. I wrapped my arms around her and I told her I was sorry for fussing at her about it; we'd figure out the money; I'm so proud of her all the time, and it really hurt my heart to hear that she thought I didn't love her sometimes. I must not be doing a very good job if that's how she feels.She reiterated that she felt like she was always disappointing me and I didn't love her.
That's new - the I don't love her thing. That one hurts. But when I had time to really play it out with a trauma filter, I get it. She feels rejected right now, so I must be rejecting her too. It's trauma math - "they rejected me, so I'm not lovable, so you must not love me." "My teacher called me a liar, so I'm a bad person; no one loves a bad person; you don't love me." It makes sense.
We got through it. It was ugly and hard but we did it. (We didn't get past it, though. I think that's going to take a while. I'm still trying to get the full understanding of where her trauma mind is.) She wanted to go see "Trolls", and I told her she could bring a friend. She said she wanted it to be just us. A few times she put her head on my shoulder. Then we went home and had a game night.
So I have to stop being a lazy trauma mama and pull her out of her room and make sure we connect - truly connect - every day. My time of just ignoring the withdrawal and enjoying the silence is over. Because letting her withdraw is, in itself, a rejection. Not enforcing togetherness is telling her I'm disappointed in her or mad at her and thus don't want to be with her.
It amazes me (not in a good way) how trauma keeps morphing and challenging me. It's like a shape-shifting monster; once you figure out how to wound it it morphs into something new and you need a new approach to take it down. Luckily the weapons are always the same.....love, understanding, and a boatload of patience!
I'm searching for grace in this one. I think I'll claim it in the head on my shoulder, in TK feeling safe enough to tell me how she feels. It has been a while since I felt so inept and insufficient at trauma mama-ing. Time to regroup and move forward.
Give yourselves some grace when trauma evolves, Trauma Mamas. Mourn the fact that the beast you had at least partly slain has re-emerged, perhaps not stronger, but no less challenging. Pull out your love and patience, Trauma Mamas, and go forth again into battle with the beast. You will prevail.
I may well meander more than normal (which I know is saying something!), so buckle up and read on.
TK has been much more quiet than normal the last two weeks. I pretty much wrote it off to tween hormone stuff. She would come home, talk to me for 5 minutes, head to her room, do her homework (usually while facetiming her friend), and watch some soccer videos on YouTube when homework was done. Then we'd go outside and play some volleyball or study on the trampoline for 30 minutes or so, then she'd hunker back down in her room. I let her.......partly because I was glad for the quiet (honest, as always!) and partly because I figured she just needed that quiet time right now. But mostly I was glad for the quiet. In retrospect, I should have pushed for more connection time...as will be apparent as my story unwinds.
Fast forward to yesterday. TK had a rough day at school. Her teachers and administrators are great, but there is one teacher she just doesn't trust, so she struggles to connect with her. This teacher has called out TK on more than one occasion, usually in front of the whole class. Once she told her she was the reason the class wasn't moving through the information faster, once she told her she was "consistently disrespectful to her classmates", and Friday she told her she was lying and "crying won't work with me, so don't bother". (You all know I don't accept what she says at face value, as I know it gets skewed by her TK's perspective. But her perception is her reality, so I have to deal with that.) Did TK lie? Could well be. When most kids are stressed they resort to a lie to avoid getting into trouble. But when a TK is stressed they can't help but lie. Their brain is in fear mode and rational thinking stops. They feel they have to lie to save their life. Confronting them in that moment just heightens the fear and makes them double down.
Unfortunately I haven't ever met with this teacher and had the chance to explain any of this. I had one email conversation with her at the beginning of the year and it was not a positive experience. Her response was terse and rude and she called out TK the next day in class. So I am struggling with how to proceed.
On top of that, we have some dear friends whose lives have been very busy and we haven't been able to connect much lately. They've had lots of things going on and she hasn't been included, so she's feeling very abandoned and rejected. We've talked about cycles and how sometimes you have more time with your friends and sometimes you have less, but that didn't offset the feeling of rejection. It's nearly impossible to offset that feeling with logic. All of this played into today, though it took me much longer to figure that out than it should have.
TK had decided she wanted to sign up for basketball, mostly to stay in shape for volleyball, which she loves. We got the basketball schedule and the practices START 15 minutes before her bedtime. We talked about her practicing for half the practice and coming home, and she said she'd rather quit. I told her to at least go to the team meeting today and see what they say. She lost it. I, woefully, responded in kind. I told her I had paid over $100 for this and she was at least going to go listen or she could start selling stuff to repay me. It escalated quickly, as anyone with trauma experience would know (you would think. My duh.) I went to my room to calm down and she followed me, screaming and crying. "I'm sorry I don't want to go. I'm going to be horrible and everyone will laugh at me. I don't remember anything. I'm sorry about the money. I'll just go and be horrible and be humiliated. I feel like I'm always disappointing you and making you mad. I don't think you even want me around most of the time. Sometimes it feels like you don't love me." Ouch. I started crying, told her I was sorry she had such a lousy mom, then took a deep breath, turned on my Trauma Mama mode, and tried again. I wrapped my arms around her and I told her I was sorry for fussing at her about it; we'd figure out the money; I'm so proud of her all the time, and it really hurt my heart to hear that she thought I didn't love her sometimes. I must not be doing a very good job if that's how she feels.She reiterated that she felt like she was always disappointing me and I didn't love her.
That's new - the I don't love her thing. That one hurts. But when I had time to really play it out with a trauma filter, I get it. She feels rejected right now, so I must be rejecting her too. It's trauma math - "they rejected me, so I'm not lovable, so you must not love me." "My teacher called me a liar, so I'm a bad person; no one loves a bad person; you don't love me." It makes sense.
We got through it. It was ugly and hard but we did it. (We didn't get past it, though. I think that's going to take a while. I'm still trying to get the full understanding of where her trauma mind is.) She wanted to go see "Trolls", and I told her she could bring a friend. She said she wanted it to be just us. A few times she put her head on my shoulder. Then we went home and had a game night.
So I have to stop being a lazy trauma mama and pull her out of her room and make sure we connect - truly connect - every day. My time of just ignoring the withdrawal and enjoying the silence is over. Because letting her withdraw is, in itself, a rejection. Not enforcing togetherness is telling her I'm disappointed in her or mad at her and thus don't want to be with her.
It amazes me (not in a good way) how trauma keeps morphing and challenging me. It's like a shape-shifting monster; once you figure out how to wound it it morphs into something new and you need a new approach to take it down. Luckily the weapons are always the same.....love, understanding, and a boatload of patience!
I'm searching for grace in this one. I think I'll claim it in the head on my shoulder, in TK feeling safe enough to tell me how she feels. It has been a while since I felt so inept and insufficient at trauma mama-ing. Time to regroup and move forward.
Give yourselves some grace when trauma evolves, Trauma Mamas. Mourn the fact that the beast you had at least partly slain has re-emerged, perhaps not stronger, but no less challenging. Pull out your love and patience, Trauma Mamas, and go forth again into battle with the beast. You will prevail.
Tuesday, October 4, 2016
#TBT on a Tuesday
As I was patting TK to sleep after another tumultuous night, it occurred to me that I have forgotten some things.
I'd forgotten how, when TK is REALLY dysregulated, she hates everything.
I'd forgotten how she loses impulse control and blurts out things that are not nice.
I'd forgotten that the most innocent comment from me is viewed as a personal attack.
I'd forgotten how to deal with torn homework, 1000 decibel screaming, and the defeatist attitude.
Some things should stay forgotten.
It's no surprise that TK's transition to middle school has been bumpy, but we had seemingly hit a groove (mostly) until two weeks ago. That's when the talk about "quarterly exams" started. That's when the quarterly study guides started coming home. That's when TK started getting overwhelmed.
We had a rough night two weeks ago when I seemingly lost all my trauma mama skills. After TK was asleep, I regrouped, and I wrote this and left it on her pillow.
Thank you for talking with me last night and letting me know how you feel. Thank you for letting me try again so I remembered to listen with my heart and not just my ears. I am so glad you gave me that chance for a re-do so I could get it right.
I'd forgotten how, when TK is REALLY dysregulated, she hates everything.
I'd forgotten how she loses impulse control and blurts out things that are not nice.
I'd forgotten that the most innocent comment from me is viewed as a personal attack.
I'd forgotten how to deal with torn homework, 1000 decibel screaming, and the defeatist attitude.
Some things should stay forgotten.
It's no surprise that TK's transition to middle school has been bumpy, but we had seemingly hit a groove (mostly) until two weeks ago. That's when the talk about "quarterly exams" started. That's when the quarterly study guides started coming home. That's when TK started getting overwhelmed.
We had a rough night two weeks ago when I seemingly lost all my trauma mama skills. After TK was asleep, I regrouped, and I wrote this and left it on her pillow.
First I want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry I haven’t been
really listening with my heart and have just been listening with my ears
lately. I’m sorry that you feel like I think you’re not capable or good enough
or smart enough. Because you are. You
are enough.
Thank you for talking with me last night and letting me know how you feel. Thank you for letting me try again so I remembered to listen with my heart and not just my ears. I am so glad you gave me that chance for a re-do so I could get it right.
I am so proud of you. You are courageous and smart and
compassionate and kind and a hard worker.
Every day I am amazed at who you are becoming. I am so proud of how you take your problems
to someone who can help you, and so proud of how you talk to your teachers and
friends when you have a problem or something is bothering you. There are a lot of adults who can’t do that. That takes tremendous self control and
courage.
You are so much more than your grades. Your grades are great, and you put way too
much pressure on yourself about them. You were partly right when you said I
don’t care if you fail…..I don’t care if you get a bad grade nearly as much as
I care about you being happy. I want you
to do well because that makes you happy, but I truly am proud of whatever grade
you get because you worked so hard for it.
I am sorry I don’t say more often how proud I am of you. I
will do better. I am so proud of you –
always, and I love you more than I can ever put into words. Nothing in this whole world makes me happier
than being your mom.
She actually hung that on her wall. Score one for Trauma Mama regroup.
Now hang a left with me.......TK's school has been unwilling to put a 504 in place for her dysgraphia and trauma because, and I quote, "She is doing so well she doesn't need one." The teachers have been really good about making accommodations, and so far the homework and tests have been spaced out enough that we have managed to get through it with only random spates of drama. I have been frustrated by the inability to get a 504 but was comfortable with the teachers' efforts.
That changed. The last two weeks we have slowly and inexorably gone off the rails. Tonight was the massive derailment. Two things were the catalyst.
- TK's teachers use google classroom. TK had a sub in a class and the sub didn't explain the work the same way as the teacher. TK wrote a comment on google classroom about the sub not doing it right. The teacher called her out in front of the class. This is (or was) her favorite teacher, so this was a huge rejection. As she was working on the homework for that class tonight (which she didn't understand), TK lost it. She crumpled her homework, threw it across the room and screamed, "I'll just flunk this class. And I'll bet the teacher will stand up and clap!" (This teacher has gone way above and beyond for TK, so this was just the rejection talking.)
- TK had her science quarterly exam today. She had studied for hours over the last three days and was confident. She got a 77. She was devastated. She figured all that hard work was useless.......therefore, (follow the trauma logic) she was stupid, she was going to fail school, everyone hates a failure, her teachers all hate her, she'll quit school and have no friends and "go to clown college".
As she had been screaming for about 45 minutes at this point, I was well out of my trauma mama space. So I yelled back (trauma mama fail). She stormed out of the room; I sat and tried to silence my brain and tune into my heart, said a few prayers, took a million deep breaths, and waited. (Oh, and I emailed the relevant people at school to tell them we were meeting next week about a 504.)
After 10 minutes, TK came back in the room, still crying (but not screaming, so we were making progress). She asked me why I was happy about her bad grade. I told her she was so much more than a grade, and I was happy she had tried so hard, and I know it sucks to try hard and not have it pay off. But it doesn't make you less valuable, or less smart, or less loved. Knowing TK, that will simmer in her brain for a while and hopefully take root.
We went out to the trampoline and bounced away our dysregulation. Or at least she bounced away hers. Mine is still there, but there are a lot of other factors feeding mine right now.
I am frustrated with how difficult it is to get into full on trauma mama mode right now. On one hand, it's great because it means I'm out of practice. On the other hand, I know this stuff, I explain this stuff to other people, and I should be able to kick into it quickly and easily.
Luckily even after a monster meltdown, TK still finds the grace to apologize and thank me for listening. And I find the grace (albeit with a struggle tonight) to apologize back for yelling and remind her how very much I love her. And we both get a re-do.
Going backwards is the pits. Working hard and not getting the result you want (be that a grade or a regulated kid) is the pits. The fact that the trauma battle is ongoing is the pits. So sometimes you will be in the pit, Trauma Mamas. Grab on to the grace of re-dos and TKs who are trying so hard, the grace of teachers and administrators who help (and try to give the ones who don't their own re-do). It's okay when you screw it up - you will. Sometimes our own crud gets in the way of being a fully present trauma mama, and that's okay. Give yourself the grace of a re-do too.
Tuesday, August 30, 2016
The (not so) golden oldies - and a remix
I had a blast from the past tonight. There were, of course, multiple factors.
Yesterday as I was waiting for TK to get home, I got a text from her saying the bus driver missed the stop and she'd be late.
When TK came in from school (just 5 minutes late), she said, "What a crazy day. Mrs. X passed out in class! She sent me to get the teacher across the hall." (It turns out Mrs. X had only been lightheaded and laid on the floor so she wouldn't pass out.) I asked her how the bus driver missed the stop and TK said some kids were "acting stupid so the bus driver yelled at them and drove through our stop. It wasn't a big deal."
TK had a rough time getting settled for bed last night, which was no surprise. It was a drama free night, which WAS a surprise.
Today when TK got home she said she only had one math problem for homework. (She had done the rest in study focus with her math teacher). I figured we had smooth sailing in front of us. You'd think! TK got her snack and wanted to get right to her homework. She asked for my help and I tried to explain how to approach the problem. She yelled that they hadn't learned it yet and I wasn't helping because I didn't explain stuff the right way. I got ticked, told her I did NOT appreciate her attitude, and went into a different room to cool off. (I know, I know, overreact much, Mom?) A few minutes later she asked if we could go upstairs (to the bonus room) to study for her vocabulary test. (Studying consists of defining a word, then playing volleyball for 1 minute, repeat.) In my head I said, "You MUST be kidding. No, I don't want to go upstairs. I want to sit here and act like I'm 4 and be angry." But I said, "Sure."
When we got upstairs, TK said, "I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings, Mom." I told her I wanted to explain why I got so upset. "You probably don't remember because it was a few years ago, but when we would start homework we would frequently end up yelling at each other. It happened so often that we didn't even like each other very much, and our family was really broken. We have worked so hard to be okay that it scares me if we fight over homework. I am terrified of going back to where we were before." TK thought on this for a minute, and said, "Mom, it won't go back like it was. We're different now."
That was a really mature and sweet comment. In truth it only mildly assuaged my fear. I know homework strife is a not uncommon part of middle school, but the memories of how broken we were are very much in my head, and I cannot just forget them. I am trying to live in faith and hope and not in fear, but this fear - the fear of our family every being that broken again - this fear is a monster.
I am grateful for the grace of TK's confidence that we are different now. I am searching for the grace enough to push aside the fear. I know we ARE different....I just want to stay that way.
Yesterday as I was waiting for TK to get home, I got a text from her saying the bus driver missed the stop and she'd be late.
When TK came in from school (just 5 minutes late), she said, "What a crazy day. Mrs. X passed out in class! She sent me to get the teacher across the hall." (It turns out Mrs. X had only been lightheaded and laid on the floor so she wouldn't pass out.) I asked her how the bus driver missed the stop and TK said some kids were "acting stupid so the bus driver yelled at them and drove through our stop. It wasn't a big deal."
TK had a rough time getting settled for bed last night, which was no surprise. It was a drama free night, which WAS a surprise.
Today when TK got home she said she only had one math problem for homework. (She had done the rest in study focus with her math teacher). I figured we had smooth sailing in front of us. You'd think! TK got her snack and wanted to get right to her homework. She asked for my help and I tried to explain how to approach the problem. She yelled that they hadn't learned it yet and I wasn't helping because I didn't explain stuff the right way. I got ticked, told her I did NOT appreciate her attitude, and went into a different room to cool off. (I know, I know, overreact much, Mom?) A few minutes later she asked if we could go upstairs (to the bonus room) to study for her vocabulary test. (Studying consists of defining a word, then playing volleyball for 1 minute, repeat.) In my head I said, "You MUST be kidding. No, I don't want to go upstairs. I want to sit here and act like I'm 4 and be angry." But I said, "Sure."
When we got upstairs, TK said, "I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings, Mom." I told her I wanted to explain why I got so upset. "You probably don't remember because it was a few years ago, but when we would start homework we would frequently end up yelling at each other. It happened so often that we didn't even like each other very much, and our family was really broken. We have worked so hard to be okay that it scares me if we fight over homework. I am terrified of going back to where we were before." TK thought on this for a minute, and said, "Mom, it won't go back like it was. We're different now."
That was a really mature and sweet comment. In truth it only mildly assuaged my fear. I know homework strife is a not uncommon part of middle school, but the memories of how broken we were are very much in my head, and I cannot just forget them. I am trying to live in faith and hope and not in fear, but this fear - the fear of our family every being that broken again - this fear is a monster.
I am grateful for the grace of TK's confidence that we are different now. I am searching for the grace enough to push aside the fear. I know we ARE different....I just want to stay that way.
Thursday, August 25, 2016
The Wonderful/Horrible/Maybe Okay/Maybe Awful/We Might Survive first 3 weeks of middle school
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 13, 2016
It will be worth it in the long run, it will be worth it in the long run, it will be worth it.......
Soooooo, Trauma Kid (TK) took her big trip to Grandmom's to hang without Mom for a week - or so was the plan. In truth I had no expectation it would last that long, and I was correct. I'll get back to that.
I've had many people ask me in the last two weeks what the big deal was. Kids go stay with their grandparents all the time. Surely my mom would keep her safe. Yes, she absolutely would go the mat to keep TK physically safe. The challenge is that "safe" is so much more to TK than just physical safety. That is a part of it, but not the biggest part. "Safe" also means knowing someone "gets" her; recognizes when she is feeling overwhelmed and can intervene to help. "Safe" means knowing, incontrovertibly, that she will still be loved if she does come undone. "Safe" means, quite honestly, knowing that she will be the most important thing for at least some part of the time she is with you. I've seen an evolution in how she deals with not feeling safe, and I'm not sure it's a good one. She will now hide that she feels unsafe from everyone except me.....something for us to work on.
So TK and Grandmom hopped on a plane on Monday, and I was to drive down 8 days later. The first two days were a little rough but Grandmom kept her really busy, and we skyped (for 2 hours) every night. The third night she got weepy but hung tough. The fourth night (Thursday), she sobbed the entire time we skyped. I had pretty much planned to head down on Saturday anyway (having a pretty realistic view of TK's ability to stretch her comfort zone). I figured Sat would be a few days past where she was comfortable and pushing past that, but just far enough, was the key. (It's totally a crap shoot on this walking the line deal, and I'm always just making my best guess.)
I made it down there Sat evening, and got the best greeting I've received from TK since she was 5 - flying across the parking lot to me, jumping in my arms. She was velcro girl.....nearly desperate in her need for me. Thus the "it will pay off in the long run" title. Her need for me was smothering (and still is). I expected it, but the intensity surprised even me.
Our dog got totally flipped out by the daily barrage of fireworks and had a nervous breakdown - all over the floor, rug upstairs, etc. So we cut our trip short and headed home on Tuesday. Since we've been home TK has been quite needy, though it has abated a small bit.
I'm trusting that this will pay off. I know stretching your comfort zone expands it, and sometimes even baby steps are huge. The aftermath of this is exhausting for me, though, as she regains her sense of security and safety. In spite of lots of advice from non-TK parents, I won't tell her "to just get over it", or enforce space between us (physical or emotional), or refuse to "baby her" by holding her hand until she falls asleep. I will continue to explain trauma, and explain that when your TK regresses, you meet them where they are until they feel safe enough to come back to now. Those regression moments are far fewer than they used to be, and usually occur at bedtime - a time fraught with challenge for most TKs.
On a sidebar, I've seen some things that are definite bright spots. TK is in drama camp right now, and has instantly reconnected with friends from last year. I am always surprised and heartened by her ability to connect, and it bodes well for middle school (the stuff of nightmares!). We saw a sign of children available for local adoption, and TK commented that we should look into that. We had a long talk about how that would change our family, and agreed to continue the conversation. I have always wanted to adopt more kids, but TK's challenges and needs outweighed the needs of another child waiting for a parent. I don't know how this will play out, but I love that she has room in her heart to even contemplate it.
I'm struggling for grace, Trauma Mamas, so toss some my way. I am mentally and physically exhausted from the travel, the drama, (cleaning up behind the dog's nervous breakdown!), and TK's overwhelming need for me. I am in that weird headspace where you wonder if you've made the right decisions regarding your TK, second-guess old decisions and play "what if". But I know that is fruitless and the focus needs to return to moving forward. It will.
Sending you all grace for celebrating baby steps, expanding comfort zones, and ignoring the voices of those "helpful" folks who don't get your TKs. Stay strong, Trauma Mamas. You've got this!
I've had many people ask me in the last two weeks what the big deal was. Kids go stay with their grandparents all the time. Surely my mom would keep her safe. Yes, she absolutely would go the mat to keep TK physically safe. The challenge is that "safe" is so much more to TK than just physical safety. That is a part of it, but not the biggest part. "Safe" also means knowing someone "gets" her; recognizes when she is feeling overwhelmed and can intervene to help. "Safe" means knowing, incontrovertibly, that she will still be loved if she does come undone. "Safe" means, quite honestly, knowing that she will be the most important thing for at least some part of the time she is with you. I've seen an evolution in how she deals with not feeling safe, and I'm not sure it's a good one. She will now hide that she feels unsafe from everyone except me.....something for us to work on.
So TK and Grandmom hopped on a plane on Monday, and I was to drive down 8 days later. The first two days were a little rough but Grandmom kept her really busy, and we skyped (for 2 hours) every night. The third night she got weepy but hung tough. The fourth night (Thursday), she sobbed the entire time we skyped. I had pretty much planned to head down on Saturday anyway (having a pretty realistic view of TK's ability to stretch her comfort zone). I figured Sat would be a few days past where she was comfortable and pushing past that, but just far enough, was the key. (It's totally a crap shoot on this walking the line deal, and I'm always just making my best guess.)
I made it down there Sat evening, and got the best greeting I've received from TK since she was 5 - flying across the parking lot to me, jumping in my arms. She was velcro girl.....nearly desperate in her need for me. Thus the "it will pay off in the long run" title. Her need for me was smothering (and still is). I expected it, but the intensity surprised even me.
Our dog got totally flipped out by the daily barrage of fireworks and had a nervous breakdown - all over the floor, rug upstairs, etc. So we cut our trip short and headed home on Tuesday. Since we've been home TK has been quite needy, though it has abated a small bit.
I'm trusting that this will pay off. I know stretching your comfort zone expands it, and sometimes even baby steps are huge. The aftermath of this is exhausting for me, though, as she regains her sense of security and safety. In spite of lots of advice from non-TK parents, I won't tell her "to just get over it", or enforce space between us (physical or emotional), or refuse to "baby her" by holding her hand until she falls asleep. I will continue to explain trauma, and explain that when your TK regresses, you meet them where they are until they feel safe enough to come back to now. Those regression moments are far fewer than they used to be, and usually occur at bedtime - a time fraught with challenge for most TKs.
On a sidebar, I've seen some things that are definite bright spots. TK is in drama camp right now, and has instantly reconnected with friends from last year. I am always surprised and heartened by her ability to connect, and it bodes well for middle school (the stuff of nightmares!). We saw a sign of children available for local adoption, and TK commented that we should look into that. We had a long talk about how that would change our family, and agreed to continue the conversation. I have always wanted to adopt more kids, but TK's challenges and needs outweighed the needs of another child waiting for a parent. I don't know how this will play out, but I love that she has room in her heart to even contemplate it.
I'm struggling for grace, Trauma Mamas, so toss some my way. I am mentally and physically exhausted from the travel, the drama, (cleaning up behind the dog's nervous breakdown!), and TK's overwhelming need for me. I am in that weird headspace where you wonder if you've made the right decisions regarding your TK, second-guess old decisions and play "what if". But I know that is fruitless and the focus needs to return to moving forward. It will.
Sending you all grace for celebrating baby steps, expanding comfort zones, and ignoring the voices of those "helpful" folks who don't get your TKs. Stay strong, Trauma Mamas. You've got this!
Thursday, June 23, 2016
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered
Well, maybe not the first one so much, but definitely the last two.....
Over the last two weeks, I've had a few people - some who know Trauma Kid (TK) well, some who don't - tell me she seems anxious, short-tempered, hateful, rude, needy. The bothersome part of this is that I'm a bit surprised by it, so I've been mulling on that tonight. Have I become so inured to trauma behavior that it doesn't impact me anymore? I don't think so. I think, however, my expectations adjust in the summer. And the reality is I see the behaviors that get those labels differently, and I forget that not everyone else does. We are blessed with friends who have become our family, and I forget that they have not been on this journey with us long enough to fully recognize or interpret trauma behaviors. I forget that because they are so accepting of us, and I fail to realize they are surprised by trauma behaviors. Others have commented on TK's "antsiness", etc. I consider all those inputs, feel like a failure for a time, get defensive, then simmer down and realize there is yet another opportunity for education, and a chance for me to examine my own perceptions about what is "normal" (within the scope of trauma) and adjust if needed.
Summer is notoriously difficult for trauma kids. The lack of structure/predictability/bounded social interaction leaves them adrift, needing something they can't pinpoint, knowing they are "without", yet not knowing how to fill that emptiness. As a trauma mama, I can tell you that emptiness is filled largely by us. There is a clinginess and neediness in TK that I haven't seen in a while, which is at war with the tween need for alone time and independence. I see that struggle play out daily, and it is exhausting.
So what is it that people are seeing that brings to mind terms like the ones above? And, far more importantly, what is driving the behaviors they are seeing? If you've been following my blog for a time, you already know the answer to that second question - fear. But fear of what?
Some of it is that our new "family" is just that - new. TK doesn't know how to operate in those auspices. Our family has pretty much always just been the two of us, so having lots of other people means the scarcity mentality kicks in. If you love them/pay attention to them, there is less for me. I see that often driving behaviors that others deem bratty or rude. And yes, those behaviors are exactly that - bratty and rude. Yet I recognize they come from a place of fear of rejection, so I am more accepting of them. I admit at times I am probably TOO accepting of them, choosing not to correct them in that moment, but discuss them later when we can collectively be calm and regulated. And sometimes I decide it was a temporary reaction that settled quickly and I don't address it at all. Should I? Maybe. But I live in the "we have come so far from where we were when every day was a nightmare" that I look through the lens of gratitude that we're not still there, when I probably should look through the lens of what growth still needs to occur.
This is a challenge for me. I promised when I started the blog I would lay out the truth - ugly or not. So here is the ugly truth. I get my feelings hurt (ridiculously, out of proportion hurt) and panic when people comment negatively on TK. I immediately go into my own trauma space and deem my mothering skills a failure, certain everyone is listing my shortcomings. That's my own trauma junk and has nothing to do with TK's, but it has everything to do with it at the same time. I tend to withdraw, hunker down, and hide us until I feel like we have the latest trauma episode under control, because I don't want to subject her (and really, me) to that criticism/judgment (even though my rational brain knows it's more concern than criticism). Interestingly (perversely?), this is when TK wants to go full out into the world. I, envisioning the trauma equivalent of Godzilla smashing Tokyo, do my best to control that desire.
I know that isn't the right way to do it, because as my dear friend reminds me, "it takes a village and now you and TK have one." But in my head we really don't have a village/I don't fully trust the village - or how I interact in the village. Because all our previous villages tarred and feathered us when the going got tough. Because at the end of the day, it's TK and me. I'm the one who "gets it"; I'm the "safe place"; I'm the one who is the shield and protector. I'm the one who has poured the prayers and endless tears and energy into this healing, and I am so proud of how far we've come. But it is very easy for me to fall back into fear, just as it is for TK. For me the fear is also of rejection, but it more overwhelmingly the fear of going backward. When those who haven't been on this whole journey with us see us go backward, they panic. And depending where I am in my own trauma headspace, sometimes I jump on the panic train. I shouldn't care if we got backward, because the truth is we do go backward sometimes.....trauma healing is not linear. In spite of that, when I step back and look at the whole journey, there has been tremendous growth and healing.
On a total sidebar - TK is going to visit my mom for a while.....without me! This was her idea and she is excited, but increasingly nervous as the date gets nearer. Just her willingness to contemplate this is a tremendous step - and not something that would have occurred even 6 months ago. I suspect there will only be a few days before she asks me to join her, but that's okay. Her feeling confident/safe enough in her own ability to regulate without me nearby (because I'll be a 10 hour car drive away) is HUGE.
So I'll give myself the grace of being proud of TK for her willingness to challenge herself. I'll also try to give myself grace for not being brave enough to totally trust our village, knowing there will be many more opportunities to grow that trust as we continue on our trauma journey.
Give yourselves grace when you need to hunker. Remember you're on the trauma journey too, so be gentle with yourselves, Trauma Mamas. Progress isn't a straight line. Accept (or try to) the concerns of those who support you for just that - concerns, a need to learn more, a desire to understand, and don't paint it as criticism or judgment (yep, I'm talking to myself here too). You are amazing, Trauma Mamas. Hold onto that when the fear comes creeping in. Love wins. Love. Wins.
Over the last two weeks, I've had a few people - some who know Trauma Kid (TK) well, some who don't - tell me she seems anxious, short-tempered, hateful, rude, needy. The bothersome part of this is that I'm a bit surprised by it, so I've been mulling on that tonight. Have I become so inured to trauma behavior that it doesn't impact me anymore? I don't think so. I think, however, my expectations adjust in the summer. And the reality is I see the behaviors that get those labels differently, and I forget that not everyone else does. We are blessed with friends who have become our family, and I forget that they have not been on this journey with us long enough to fully recognize or interpret trauma behaviors. I forget that because they are so accepting of us, and I fail to realize they are surprised by trauma behaviors. Others have commented on TK's "antsiness", etc. I consider all those inputs, feel like a failure for a time, get defensive, then simmer down and realize there is yet another opportunity for education, and a chance for me to examine my own perceptions about what is "normal" (within the scope of trauma) and adjust if needed.
Summer is notoriously difficult for trauma kids. The lack of structure/predictability/bounded social interaction leaves them adrift, needing something they can't pinpoint, knowing they are "without", yet not knowing how to fill that emptiness. As a trauma mama, I can tell you that emptiness is filled largely by us. There is a clinginess and neediness in TK that I haven't seen in a while, which is at war with the tween need for alone time and independence. I see that struggle play out daily, and it is exhausting.
So what is it that people are seeing that brings to mind terms like the ones above? And, far more importantly, what is driving the behaviors they are seeing? If you've been following my blog for a time, you already know the answer to that second question - fear. But fear of what?
Some of it is that our new "family" is just that - new. TK doesn't know how to operate in those auspices. Our family has pretty much always just been the two of us, so having lots of other people means the scarcity mentality kicks in. If you love them/pay attention to them, there is less for me. I see that often driving behaviors that others deem bratty or rude. And yes, those behaviors are exactly that - bratty and rude. Yet I recognize they come from a place of fear of rejection, so I am more accepting of them. I admit at times I am probably TOO accepting of them, choosing not to correct them in that moment, but discuss them later when we can collectively be calm and regulated. And sometimes I decide it was a temporary reaction that settled quickly and I don't address it at all. Should I? Maybe. But I live in the "we have come so far from where we were when every day was a nightmare" that I look through the lens of gratitude that we're not still there, when I probably should look through the lens of what growth still needs to occur.
This is a challenge for me. I promised when I started the blog I would lay out the truth - ugly or not. So here is the ugly truth. I get my feelings hurt (ridiculously, out of proportion hurt) and panic when people comment negatively on TK. I immediately go into my own trauma space and deem my mothering skills a failure, certain everyone is listing my shortcomings. That's my own trauma junk and has nothing to do with TK's, but it has everything to do with it at the same time. I tend to withdraw, hunker down, and hide us until I feel like we have the latest trauma episode under control, because I don't want to subject her (and really, me) to that criticism/judgment (even though my rational brain knows it's more concern than criticism). Interestingly (perversely?), this is when TK wants to go full out into the world. I, envisioning the trauma equivalent of Godzilla smashing Tokyo, do my best to control that desire.
I know that isn't the right way to do it, because as my dear friend reminds me, "it takes a village and now you and TK have one." But in my head we really don't have a village/I don't fully trust the village - or how I interact in the village. Because all our previous villages tarred and feathered us when the going got tough. Because at the end of the day, it's TK and me. I'm the one who "gets it"; I'm the "safe place"; I'm the one who is the shield and protector. I'm the one who has poured the prayers and endless tears and energy into this healing, and I am so proud of how far we've come. But it is very easy for me to fall back into fear, just as it is for TK. For me the fear is also of rejection, but it more overwhelmingly the fear of going backward. When those who haven't been on this whole journey with us see us go backward, they panic. And depending where I am in my own trauma headspace, sometimes I jump on the panic train. I shouldn't care if we got backward, because the truth is we do go backward sometimes.....trauma healing is not linear. In spite of that, when I step back and look at the whole journey, there has been tremendous growth and healing.
On a total sidebar - TK is going to visit my mom for a while.....without me! This was her idea and she is excited, but increasingly nervous as the date gets nearer. Just her willingness to contemplate this is a tremendous step - and not something that would have occurred even 6 months ago. I suspect there will only be a few days before she asks me to join her, but that's okay. Her feeling confident/safe enough in her own ability to regulate without me nearby (because I'll be a 10 hour car drive away) is HUGE.
So I'll give myself the grace of being proud of TK for her willingness to challenge herself. I'll also try to give myself grace for not being brave enough to totally trust our village, knowing there will be many more opportunities to grow that trust as we continue on our trauma journey.
Give yourselves grace when you need to hunker. Remember you're on the trauma journey too, so be gentle with yourselves, Trauma Mamas. Progress isn't a straight line. Accept (or try to) the concerns of those who support you for just that - concerns, a need to learn more, a desire to understand, and don't paint it as criticism or judgment (yep, I'm talking to myself here too). You are amazing, Trauma Mamas. Hold onto that when the fear comes creeping in. Love wins. Love. Wins.
Thursday, May 19, 2016
The Growth is in the Struggle
Heather Forbes says, "the growth is in the struggle." We definitely had an opportunity for growth last night.
Trauma Kid (TK) went to middle school volleyball tryouts, nervous but (over)confident in her abilities. I dropped her off, probably more nervous than she was. I picked her up 90 minutes later. As she walked toward the car she shook her head no. She looked like a thundercloud. I have learned not to ask questions when she looks like that, so I said nothing. A few minutes into the car ride she told me she'd tripped and landed hard on her bum and it hurt so much that she couldn't hustle, so she didn't think she'd made it.
The list was posted 90 minutes later, so we drove back to the middle school to check out the results. I stayed in the car as TK looked. She came back looking mad and upset, so I knew immediately. She didn't say anything on the way home. I just said, "I'm so sorry. I know it hurts. But you need to know that no one will be disappointed in you." When we got home she slammed the car door, the door into the house, and the door to her room. I heard her in there hitting the wall and venting her anger, so I waited that part out. When I heard her start sobbing I knocked and asked if I could come in. She said no so I told her I'd be sitting in the hall by her door until she was ready for me to come in. A few minutes later she told me to come in. I sat by her bed and said nothing. She ranted for a few minutes, then sobbed some more. I asked her if I could hug her and she said no. My heart broke for her and I shed many tears of my own as she sobbed. After a few minutes she reached out for my hand.
I waited to see what would happen. I knew this was a heartbreak for her, and I wasn't sure if she had the skills to cope with that level of rejection. This was a serious "growing in the struggle" moment.
After about 30 minutes she was pretty calm. I asked her if she still wanted to go to public middle school now that she hadn't made the team. She said she did. She asked if she could sleep in my bed because she was so sad and wanted to be close to me.
This morning she said, "I'm okay, Mom. I'm still sad and disappointed, but I'm okay." That was a momentous moment in our trauma journey. TK had weathered a huge rejection and come out the other side - quickly and resolutely. It was more than I expected, and I can't even express my pride and relief.
Later I asked her why she didn't want me to hug her when she was so sad. She said, "Mom, when I'm that upset it's like every part of me is super-sensitive, so having you hug me is just more pressure that I can't handle." I knew she meant physical pressure, so I get it. I hate it, but I get it. When I'm a sobbing mess I just want to fall in someone's arms and let them comfort me. But TK isn't me, and I have to respect her needs, even when it goes against every cell in my body.
This is one of those rare blessed moments when I can really see all the work, tears, prayers and re-dos working. TK has amazing presence and is starting to gain resilience. Talk about grace......I was awash in it today as I watched her TRULY be okay.
Andra Day has this amazing song called "Rise Up." I swear it is the anthem for Trauma Mamas (and Trauma Daddies and Trauma Caregivers). I'll put the lyrics below if you want to read them, and I'll post the YouTube link in an immediate follow on post. Whether you do or not, have faith, Trauma Mamas. Your TK can gain resilience and learn to weather rejection without falling into despair. If my TK can do it, yours can get there too.
Sending you grace for the journey. You will undoubtedly have to rise up a thousand times again, but you are strong. When you feel like you can't rise up one more time, I will send you strength and grace until you find your own.
ANDRA DAY - RISE UP
You're broken down and tired of living life on a merry-go-round
And you can't find the fighter
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out and move mountains
We gonna walk it out and move mountains
And I'll rise up, I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up, I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again
And I'll rise up, high like the waves
I'll rise up, in spite of the ache
I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again
For you
When the silence isn't quiet and it feels like it's getting hard to breathe
And I know you feel like dying
But I promise we'll take the world to its feet and move mountains
Bring it to its feet and move mountains
And I'll rise up, I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up, I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again
For you
All we need, all we need is hope
And for that we have each other, and for that we have each other
We will rise, we will rise, we'll rise, we'll rise
I'll rise up, rise like the day
I'll rise up, in spite of the ache
I will rise a thousand times again
And we'll rise up, high like the waves
We'll rise up, in spite of the ache
We'll rise up, and we'll do it a thousand times again
For you
Trauma Kid (TK) went to middle school volleyball tryouts, nervous but (over)confident in her abilities. I dropped her off, probably more nervous than she was. I picked her up 90 minutes later. As she walked toward the car she shook her head no. She looked like a thundercloud. I have learned not to ask questions when she looks like that, so I said nothing. A few minutes into the car ride she told me she'd tripped and landed hard on her bum and it hurt so much that she couldn't hustle, so she didn't think she'd made it.
The list was posted 90 minutes later, so we drove back to the middle school to check out the results. I stayed in the car as TK looked. She came back looking mad and upset, so I knew immediately. She didn't say anything on the way home. I just said, "I'm so sorry. I know it hurts. But you need to know that no one will be disappointed in you." When we got home she slammed the car door, the door into the house, and the door to her room. I heard her in there hitting the wall and venting her anger, so I waited that part out. When I heard her start sobbing I knocked and asked if I could come in. She said no so I told her I'd be sitting in the hall by her door until she was ready for me to come in. A few minutes later she told me to come in. I sat by her bed and said nothing. She ranted for a few minutes, then sobbed some more. I asked her if I could hug her and she said no. My heart broke for her and I shed many tears of my own as she sobbed. After a few minutes she reached out for my hand.
I waited to see what would happen. I knew this was a heartbreak for her, and I wasn't sure if she had the skills to cope with that level of rejection. This was a serious "growing in the struggle" moment.
After about 30 minutes she was pretty calm. I asked her if she still wanted to go to public middle school now that she hadn't made the team. She said she did. She asked if she could sleep in my bed because she was so sad and wanted to be close to me.
This morning she said, "I'm okay, Mom. I'm still sad and disappointed, but I'm okay." That was a momentous moment in our trauma journey. TK had weathered a huge rejection and come out the other side - quickly and resolutely. It was more than I expected, and I can't even express my pride and relief.
Later I asked her why she didn't want me to hug her when she was so sad. She said, "Mom, when I'm that upset it's like every part of me is super-sensitive, so having you hug me is just more pressure that I can't handle." I knew she meant physical pressure, so I get it. I hate it, but I get it. When I'm a sobbing mess I just want to fall in someone's arms and let them comfort me. But TK isn't me, and I have to respect her needs, even when it goes against every cell in my body.
This is one of those rare blessed moments when I can really see all the work, tears, prayers and re-dos working. TK has amazing presence and is starting to gain resilience. Talk about grace......I was awash in it today as I watched her TRULY be okay.
Andra Day has this amazing song called "Rise Up." I swear it is the anthem for Trauma Mamas (and Trauma Daddies and Trauma Caregivers). I'll put the lyrics below if you want to read them, and I'll post the YouTube link in an immediate follow on post. Whether you do or not, have faith, Trauma Mamas. Your TK can gain resilience and learn to weather rejection without falling into despair. If my TK can do it, yours can get there too.
Sending you grace for the journey. You will undoubtedly have to rise up a thousand times again, but you are strong. When you feel like you can't rise up one more time, I will send you strength and grace until you find your own.
ANDRA DAY - RISE UP
You're broken down and tired of living life on a merry-go-round
And you can't find the fighter
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out and move mountains
We gonna walk it out and move mountains
And I'll rise up, I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up, I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again
And I'll rise up, high like the waves
I'll rise up, in spite of the ache
I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again
For you
When the silence isn't quiet and it feels like it's getting hard to breathe
And I know you feel like dying
But I promise we'll take the world to its feet and move mountains
Bring it to its feet and move mountains
And I'll rise up, I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up, I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again
For you
All we need, all we need is hope
And for that we have each other, and for that we have each other
We will rise, we will rise, we'll rise, we'll rise
I'll rise up, rise like the day
I'll rise up, in spite of the ache
I will rise a thousand times again
And we'll rise up, high like the waves
We'll rise up, in spite of the ache
We'll rise up, and we'll do it a thousand times again
For you
Monday, May 16, 2016
No buts allowed
I'll preface by saying I am in the midst of a hellacious bout of shingles, so I'm not as patient as usual, and my stress window is definitely smaller than normal.
TK (Trauma Kid) was at volleyball camp last Thursday and a friend mentioned middle school volleyball tryouts were next week (now this week). TK LOVES volleyball. She has declared it her "thing". I think she's pretty good for a novice, but I'm a former lacrosse player so I may not be the best judge. When TK told me about tryouts, I knew the conversation that was about to ensue. Sure enough, on the ride home, TK said she wants to go to public middle school next year and try out for the volleyball team.
I tried to push down my immediate fear response, and managed to -- somewhat. I told her there will be challenges -- like the inability to regulate through movement during the day, dealing with her dysgraphia, and the "girl drama" that is inevitable in middle school. She told me she needs a social circle -- her current school is quite small and her entire class (3rd-6th grade) is 16 kids, and only 3 are girls. Our neighborhood is awash in boys as well. So her female social circle is her volleyball team (and the season just ended) and me. I get that she needs a bigger social circle, but the fear of returning to anything remotely like it was before overwhelmed me. I remember too well how fractured our family was, how trauma ruled our lives, how exhausting and isolating it was. But that was then, and I have to find the same courage TK has to let go of then and trust that we are in a place of trust and strength enough for now.
TK told me she'd definitely make the volleyball team, and I said I hoped so. She told me I needed to have more faith in her. I said I had faith in her, but I don't know how good the other kids trying out are. She told me she had matured a lot and was ready for the challenges of public middle school, and I should just believe in her. I said I had faith in her, but we needed to work through some things before I felt okay with this change.
Then TK nailed me. She said, "Mom, why don't you believe in me? You keep telling me you do, then you say you don't. I just need you to support me, and if it falls apart you can help me through it." I had a flashback of my dad, who often said "I'm not telling you what to do, but......" And I clearly remember saying he needed to replace the "but" with a period. So I did. I told TK I believed she was good enough to make the team, and I had faith in her ability to handle public middle school. (Okay, I still said "but......" in my head, but at least my out loud stuff was good!) There was a lot of maturity and strength in her statement about helping her through it if fell apart. It also told me that she knew I would be there to help her through it.
I've spent the last few days stepping back and really watching TK. And I've seem some amazing things. We were at Dear Friend's (my sister from another mister and Soph's declared aunt) wedding the day after TK's birthday, and TK took on the role of getting folks (many of whom she'd never met) to sign the guest book. She did this with grace and calmness and confidence. During the reception I almost never saw her once dinner was over - she was off having fun with the family. This would never have happened a year ago, or probably even 6 months ago. Sometime in the last few months she has grown amazingly in confidence. She has always had amazing courage, but her confidence and self esteem have also come front and center.
We were visiting TK's "sister" the other day, and she told me she saw a tremendous difference from the TK of a year ago. When I stopped and really looked at who TK had become, I could even stop the "buts" in my head. She CAN do this. There will be challenges, and stumbles, and probably even some trauma meltdowns, but she's right -- I'll help her through them and we'll continue to move forward. Don't get me wrong, I am still slightly terrified. What if she doesn't make the volleyball team? Will her confidence and self-esteem plummet? Or am I not giving her enough credit? TBD - I don't know, but I will on Wednesday (when the call-back list is posted) or Friday (when the team rosters are posted). Stay tuned.
But for now, I am taking in the grace at the progress we have made. The journey is not over; trauma will continue to rear up its head and throw challenges at us, but my girl, my TK, has more ability to self-regulate than I thought she would ever have.
It's nearly impossible to see the possibilities when you are in the middle of the trauma journey. But they exist. Your TKs can continue to grow in confidence, self-regulation, and grace. If you can, step back and look at your journey, Trauma Mamas. You will see progress. It may be miniscule, but somewhere there is a change for the better. This journey is not linear, and sometimes you get stuck in one place for what feels like forever. But your undying, unconditional love is moving your TK toward healing. Grab the grace of finding any progress you can, and take the credit for it. This journey is brutal, and you are the warrior who never gives up. Grace to you as you battle on, Trauma Mamas.
TK (Trauma Kid) was at volleyball camp last Thursday and a friend mentioned middle school volleyball tryouts were next week (now this week). TK LOVES volleyball. She has declared it her "thing". I think she's pretty good for a novice, but I'm a former lacrosse player so I may not be the best judge. When TK told me about tryouts, I knew the conversation that was about to ensue. Sure enough, on the ride home, TK said she wants to go to public middle school next year and try out for the volleyball team.
I tried to push down my immediate fear response, and managed to -- somewhat. I told her there will be challenges -- like the inability to regulate through movement during the day, dealing with her dysgraphia, and the "girl drama" that is inevitable in middle school. She told me she needs a social circle -- her current school is quite small and her entire class (3rd-6th grade) is 16 kids, and only 3 are girls. Our neighborhood is awash in boys as well. So her female social circle is her volleyball team (and the season just ended) and me. I get that she needs a bigger social circle, but the fear of returning to anything remotely like it was before overwhelmed me. I remember too well how fractured our family was, how trauma ruled our lives, how exhausting and isolating it was. But that was then, and I have to find the same courage TK has to let go of then and trust that we are in a place of trust and strength enough for now.
TK told me she'd definitely make the volleyball team, and I said I hoped so. She told me I needed to have more faith in her. I said I had faith in her, but I don't know how good the other kids trying out are. She told me she had matured a lot and was ready for the challenges of public middle school, and I should just believe in her. I said I had faith in her, but we needed to work through some things before I felt okay with this change.
Then TK nailed me. She said, "Mom, why don't you believe in me? You keep telling me you do, then you say you don't. I just need you to support me, and if it falls apart you can help me through it." I had a flashback of my dad, who often said "I'm not telling you what to do, but......" And I clearly remember saying he needed to replace the "but" with a period. So I did. I told TK I believed she was good enough to make the team, and I had faith in her ability to handle public middle school. (Okay, I still said "but......" in my head, but at least my out loud stuff was good!) There was a lot of maturity and strength in her statement about helping her through it if fell apart. It also told me that she knew I would be there to help her through it.
I've spent the last few days stepping back and really watching TK. And I've seem some amazing things. We were at Dear Friend's (my sister from another mister and Soph's declared aunt) wedding the day after TK's birthday, and TK took on the role of getting folks (many of whom she'd never met) to sign the guest book. She did this with grace and calmness and confidence. During the reception I almost never saw her once dinner was over - she was off having fun with the family. This would never have happened a year ago, or probably even 6 months ago. Sometime in the last few months she has grown amazingly in confidence. She has always had amazing courage, but her confidence and self esteem have also come front and center.
We were visiting TK's "sister" the other day, and she told me she saw a tremendous difference from the TK of a year ago. When I stopped and really looked at who TK had become, I could even stop the "buts" in my head. She CAN do this. There will be challenges, and stumbles, and probably even some trauma meltdowns, but she's right -- I'll help her through them and we'll continue to move forward. Don't get me wrong, I am still slightly terrified. What if she doesn't make the volleyball team? Will her confidence and self-esteem plummet? Or am I not giving her enough credit? TBD - I don't know, but I will on Wednesday (when the call-back list is posted) or Friday (when the team rosters are posted). Stay tuned.
But for now, I am taking in the grace at the progress we have made. The journey is not over; trauma will continue to rear up its head and throw challenges at us, but my girl, my TK, has more ability to self-regulate than I thought she would ever have.
It's nearly impossible to see the possibilities when you are in the middle of the trauma journey. But they exist. Your TKs can continue to grow in confidence, self-regulation, and grace. If you can, step back and look at your journey, Trauma Mamas. You will see progress. It may be miniscule, but somewhere there is a change for the better. This journey is not linear, and sometimes you get stuck in one place for what feels like forever. But your undying, unconditional love is moving your TK toward healing. Grab the grace of finding any progress you can, and take the credit for it. This journey is brutal, and you are the warrior who never gives up. Grace to you as you battle on, Trauma Mamas.
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
The Adventure that almost was
This past weekend was my Adventure weekend - just me and a bunch of Girl Scout leaders ziplining, tree climbing, doing the high ropes, canoeing, etc. Fri evening through Sunday afternoon- only grownups acting like kids. That was the plan........
Trauma Kid (TK) has been, no surprise, anxious about my trip. We've talked about the plan a lot the last 3 weeks. She was going to stay with our Dear Friend (DF), who is more aunt than friend to her. DF's family had plans to surround TK with love and fun so she would be okay. A few nights before the trip, DF came over for dinner and we 3 discussed the trip and any concerns TK had. TK told DF, "I just don't totally trust you yet." DF didn't react (kudos!) but she and I discussed it later after I talked with TK about it. TK told me what she meant....."Mom, Ms. M (her friend/therapist with whom she stayed last year) couldn't handle it when I had a complete fear breakdown, so how can I expect DF to handle it?" DF has never seen/been part of a full-fledged trauma meltdown. She has seen bits of them and has learned a lot, but she hasn't had to deal head on with the complete fear that overtakes TK sometimes. I told TK she was older, more capable of handling her fears, better able to express her needs, and I had confidence she'd be fine. She did mention multiple times that she wished I weren't going, but she never asked me not to go. Compared to the hours of sobbing and pleading last year, this was huge.
Two days before my trip I ducked into the Walk in clinic and confirmed my fears - I have shingles. Knowing this was just the beginning of it, odds were the pain would increase significantly over the next few days. So I decided to wait and go to the camp early Sat AM. Friday I slept in my own comfy bed, medicated for pain. Early Sat DF came over and I headed out. TK wouldn't give me a kiss but said, "Bye, Mom." I expected this....I was just happy she didn't freak.
Saturday was a much toned down experience from the previous year. Between the shingles pain and the fact that the harness for ziplining and other adventure things would rub right on the blisters, I switched to things like screen printing, tie dying and archery. It was still fun to hang with the friends I made last year, but the pain was definitely hampering my fun a lot. I talked to TK during the day and she was having a blast.
Sat about 9PM my phone rang...it was TK, in tears. 'It's too hard, Mom. I'm too scared without you here. I can't do this." I asked her if she'd told DF how she felt, and she said no, she was embarrassed to be crying like a baby and was afraid DF (and another friend who was spending the night) would think she was dumb. We talked for about 15 minutes and she couldn't get regulated. She wasn't panic-stricken, but she was definitely starting to come unglued a bit. I decided to drive home that night.
Should I have stayed? Maybe. If I had felt better I probably would have pushed it, but honestly I was hurting like crazy and not thrilled about sleeping on an old saggy cot with the "snoring bear" (as my roommates deemed one of our bunkmates) close by. I also knew if I pushed her and stayed that she would be okay, but she would be mad at DF and that might damage their relationship. The relationship with DF and her family (our family now) is precious, and I didn't want TK questioning it. So I bailed. I was only a little resentful (we didn't get to do our bridge bounce, planned for the next AM), but I was okay with taking the easy way out. I think it was best for TK and DF, and possibly for me (though a kid free morning would have been nice!).
So my 3 day adventure turned into 1 less-than-adventure-filled day. As usual, being a trauma mama means being flexible. Perhaps I am too flexible sometimes. Perhaps I should push her further out of her comfort zone sometimes. But this was not the time. I didn't have the physical or emotional energy to deal with the fallout, and I couldn't risk TK's relationship with DF and fam.
Maybe next year I'll get the whole 3 days. A trauma mama can hope!
Give yourselves grace when you take the easy road, Trauma Mamas. There usually isn't one, so don't stress over picking that option when you can. My DF gave me the grace of telling me she trusted whatever decision I made because I knew what was best. You do too,trauma mamas. Trust yourself; trust your gut. Ignore the voices of the world that tell you your TK is "too old to act that way", "manipulating you to get her own way", or "spoiled." Your TK is learning to grow through her fear....that's a tall order. It's exhausting for both of you. So take a deep breath, enjoy the easy road when it appears, and know that you really do know what your TK needs.
Be strong, Trauma Mamas. Here's hoping your adventure plans go better than mine did!
Trauma Kid (TK) has been, no surprise, anxious about my trip. We've talked about the plan a lot the last 3 weeks. She was going to stay with our Dear Friend (DF), who is more aunt than friend to her. DF's family had plans to surround TK with love and fun so she would be okay. A few nights before the trip, DF came over for dinner and we 3 discussed the trip and any concerns TK had. TK told DF, "I just don't totally trust you yet." DF didn't react (kudos!) but she and I discussed it later after I talked with TK about it. TK told me what she meant....."Mom, Ms. M (her friend/therapist with whom she stayed last year) couldn't handle it when I had a complete fear breakdown, so how can I expect DF to handle it?" DF has never seen/been part of a full-fledged trauma meltdown. She has seen bits of them and has learned a lot, but she hasn't had to deal head on with the complete fear that overtakes TK sometimes. I told TK she was older, more capable of handling her fears, better able to express her needs, and I had confidence she'd be fine. She did mention multiple times that she wished I weren't going, but she never asked me not to go. Compared to the hours of sobbing and pleading last year, this was huge.
Two days before my trip I ducked into the Walk in clinic and confirmed my fears - I have shingles. Knowing this was just the beginning of it, odds were the pain would increase significantly over the next few days. So I decided to wait and go to the camp early Sat AM. Friday I slept in my own comfy bed, medicated for pain. Early Sat DF came over and I headed out. TK wouldn't give me a kiss but said, "Bye, Mom." I expected this....I was just happy she didn't freak.
Saturday was a much toned down experience from the previous year. Between the shingles pain and the fact that the harness for ziplining and other adventure things would rub right on the blisters, I switched to things like screen printing, tie dying and archery. It was still fun to hang with the friends I made last year, but the pain was definitely hampering my fun a lot. I talked to TK during the day and she was having a blast.
Sat about 9PM my phone rang...it was TK, in tears. 'It's too hard, Mom. I'm too scared without you here. I can't do this." I asked her if she'd told DF how she felt, and she said no, she was embarrassed to be crying like a baby and was afraid DF (and another friend who was spending the night) would think she was dumb. We talked for about 15 minutes and she couldn't get regulated. She wasn't panic-stricken, but she was definitely starting to come unglued a bit. I decided to drive home that night.
Should I have stayed? Maybe. If I had felt better I probably would have pushed it, but honestly I was hurting like crazy and not thrilled about sleeping on an old saggy cot with the "snoring bear" (as my roommates deemed one of our bunkmates) close by. I also knew if I pushed her and stayed that she would be okay, but she would be mad at DF and that might damage their relationship. The relationship with DF and her family (our family now) is precious, and I didn't want TK questioning it. So I bailed. I was only a little resentful (we didn't get to do our bridge bounce, planned for the next AM), but I was okay with taking the easy way out. I think it was best for TK and DF, and possibly for me (though a kid free morning would have been nice!).
So my 3 day adventure turned into 1 less-than-adventure-filled day. As usual, being a trauma mama means being flexible. Perhaps I am too flexible sometimes. Perhaps I should push her further out of her comfort zone sometimes. But this was not the time. I didn't have the physical or emotional energy to deal with the fallout, and I couldn't risk TK's relationship with DF and fam.
Maybe next year I'll get the whole 3 days. A trauma mama can hope!
Give yourselves grace when you take the easy road, Trauma Mamas. There usually isn't one, so don't stress over picking that option when you can. My DF gave me the grace of telling me she trusted whatever decision I made because I knew what was best. You do too,trauma mamas. Trust yourself; trust your gut. Ignore the voices of the world that tell you your TK is "too old to act that way", "manipulating you to get her own way", or "spoiled." Your TK is learning to grow through her fear....that's a tall order. It's exhausting for both of you. So take a deep breath, enjoy the easy road when it appears, and know that you really do know what your TK needs.
Be strong, Trauma Mamas. Here's hoping your adventure plans go better than mine did!
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