As we move along our trauma journey of healing, I continue to learn new things - most of which I never wanted to learn. Today was no exception.
Last week TK and her counselor came up with new goals. TK's goals included being less angry and being kinder. I am all in favor of that. While I know TK's anger is a manifestation of fear, knowing that does not automatically imbue me with the ability to always respond from a place of compassion. It's exhausting being with someone who is frequently angry. I realized that afresh because the last two days were awesome. TK was silly and loving; I got hugs (very rare) and "I love yous". She even gave me a Wonder Woman ornament for our Christmas tree and told me, "I bought it because you're always my Wonder Woman." I had honestly forgotten how much fun it could be to hang with TK. When she is happy she exudes joy and a zest for life and a sense of silliness that is contagious. It's been so long that since I had a real hug from her that it threw me when I realized she was taller than I am. I knew that, but hadn't been hugged by her since she topped me in height.
The painful realizations are just that - painful. The reality is TK is often angry (aka scared), and her "last man standing and the last man is always going to me" approach (a classic survival mode response) tends to not leave people wanting to give her grace. She is champion of the underdog, which is wonderful, but the way she stands up for them is to annihilate the person who is challenging the underdog. This leads other people to tell TK she's mean or rude. One even went so far as to tell her she was going to hell because she is not a nice person. (Yeah, that led to a mom to mom phone call.) I know TK is frustrated by her inability to regulate her reactions. She is much better about than she was when she was younger, but there is still a long way to go.
I can only imagine how exhausting it is for her to feel scared and, therefore, angry so much of the time. I wonder what I could have done differently to help her. When did the fear and anger outweigh the joy and frivolity? Why didn't I find a way to lessen the fear sooner ? When did I give in to the anger and respond with resignation instead of determination to move her past it?
The other, related, painful reality is that while there a number of people who love TK, some of them don't actually like her. They love her because they love me, but they don't enjoy her company or really want to spend time with her. I get it....she's tough. But it breaks my heart, because behind the anger and fear is a kind, compassionate, wildly funny person who loves with her whole heart and would die defending the people she loves.
We are working hard to make that part of TK stronger. That part has at least appeared for a while this week; it's been a really long time since it has been here. I miss that version of TK, and I long for the day that part of TK trumps the scared and angry part.
I'm trying to give myself some grace for resigning myself to the anger and fear instead of fighting it. Give yourself some as well. This journey is ridiculously hard. Grab those moments where the joy comes forth and let yourself breathe deeply and just enjoy it. It probably won't last, but it might just give you the grace and emotional energy to get you through the next cycle of fear and anger.
Tuesday, November 21, 2017
Saturday, November 11, 2017
The more things change
I was going to say it's interesting watching the changing face of trauma as TK moves into teenagerhood. But the truth is it sucks watching the changing face of trauma. And even after 8 years of the journey, I still screw up and forget stuff. Yes, parts of it have seemingly resolved as TK's brain continues to change (thank you neuroplasticity) and TK matures, but that underlying fear of rejection and abandonment is always there. I don't know if it takes more to activate it or if TK is just better at masking it...I suspect some of both. But this week it came roaring to life, and I got to really notice the changes in the face of trauma from childhood to teenage years (or just different years in the journey, depending when your family's healing journey started).
When TK was much younger and when we were just on the beginning of this journey (for us roughly ages 4-8), trauma manifested as "everything in a 10 mile radius gets destroyed". The face of trauma was hitting, breaking things, screaming hateful words and basically wiping out anyone in range. In the "middle years" (ages 8-11), trauma was a mix of widespread destruction and targeted attacks. While general destruction still occurred, it lessened greatly, and the verbal attacks were made, usually to me after the fact (progress!) about the "offending parties".
Now, at age 12, trauma results in targeted annihilation. This is sometimes directed inwardly (the scariest of all) in the "typical" traumaspeak: "I have no friends; everyone hates me; I'm not lovable". This is terrifying as you can't see it, and when you add the normal angst of puberty, it has the chance of spiraling quickly to a dark place. You see walls coming up and communication shutting down and you wonder if it's just hormones or trauma, or worse, both.
Sometimes the trauma comes outward, laser focused - usually at me. (Because who else is there?) I spent many hours this week (okay, the last few months) being annoyed and angry and treating the trauma as "typical teenage angst", but I forgot the basic rule of trauma - the "bad" behavior is a result of fear.
TK goes to therapy once a week or so. After the session, TK is usually lighthearted and even silly.....for an hour or two. Then TK becomes introspective, disgruntled, and often quite mean. I get it. I've been through therapy and I know it leaves you raw and needing to process through what you just talked about. When you're an adult, you usually do that in the privacy of your own head. When you're a 12 year old trauma kid.......not so much. We often bang heads later that night, and I frequently hear how everything is fine except for me; that I cause the angst, I make TK's life worse, etc. It always hurts my feelings but I remind myself that TK is healing and all that turmoil has to go somewhere. (The part that stinks about being a single parent is it ALWAYS goes on me.) This week was typical - all happiness and light for a while, then the trauma monster came out to play.
To TK's credit (and mine), even when the conversation got really hard and tears were flowing (from both of us), neither of us walked away. We stayed in the conversation and kept working through it. A lot if it WAS typical teenage stuff - "you don't trust me, you think I'm stupid and can't make good decisions", but even typical teenage stuff is not typical when it comes from a trauma kid. But as the conversation continued, TK suddenly yelled, "You have no idea how hard it is to wonder every day if you're going to get hurt or die when you're at school bus driver training! You don't know what you're doing and that thing is HUGE. Every day I'm scared to death my phone will ring and I'll have to ask a teacher to take me home or to the hospital."
Fear....it's always fear. I will say that quite honestly part of me was glad to hear that because, like most parents of teenagers, I spend most of my time sure TK hates me. It was nice to know TK was scared to lose me. After TK made that statement, all the energy went out of the argument. TK had voiced the real issue, and NOW we could move forward. I spent a long time explaining the training process and the safety measures, and I told TK if the fear was paralyzing I would find another option.
I had never occurred to me that TK was scared I could get hurt/die learning to drive a bus. (At this point in the blog I mentally slap myself in the head and say, "Really? 8 years in and you STILL don't get this?") But the changing face of trauma had me fooled. It manifested as teenage angst and hormonal drama, and I bought into it. That undoubtedly is part of it and makes the trauma stuff even harder (oh goodie).
When your teenage TK is going off the rails, remember that under all that "you are the worst parent ever" stuff is the voice of that baby/little kid/big kid in the orphanage (hospital, foster care system, wherever) scared no one will be there to love them and keep them safe.
So yep, I forgot to look for the fear. But I'm giving myself grace and letting it go. Hopefully I'll remember to look for it next time (because there will be a next time). It can be a lot harder to dig down to it as our TKs get older, but I was reminded that if I stay in the conversation (and I have been known to walk away because I just don't want to hear it and I'm tired of it), we get to the real issue. I did this pretty easily when TK was younger. It's harder now -TK is much better at hitting where it hurts (emotionally) and it takes a lot to hang in there through all the hard stuff. But it's worth it.
Do your best to ride out the hard stuff, trauma mamas. The only way past trauma is through it. There's no seatbelt and it seems like the world's longest ride a lot of days, but when you see the look on your TK's face when they truly feel heard and safe, it's worth every tear - even the ones your cry into your pillow when your TK is sleeping.
Give yourself grace when you unbuckle and get off the ride for a while. Sometimes you just need to get your own equilibrium before you can go for round 2,679.
When TK was much younger and when we were just on the beginning of this journey (for us roughly ages 4-8), trauma manifested as "everything in a 10 mile radius gets destroyed". The face of trauma was hitting, breaking things, screaming hateful words and basically wiping out anyone in range. In the "middle years" (ages 8-11), trauma was a mix of widespread destruction and targeted attacks. While general destruction still occurred, it lessened greatly, and the verbal attacks were made, usually to me after the fact (progress!) about the "offending parties".
Now, at age 12, trauma results in targeted annihilation. This is sometimes directed inwardly (the scariest of all) in the "typical" traumaspeak: "I have no friends; everyone hates me; I'm not lovable". This is terrifying as you can't see it, and when you add the normal angst of puberty, it has the chance of spiraling quickly to a dark place. You see walls coming up and communication shutting down and you wonder if it's just hormones or trauma, or worse, both.
Sometimes the trauma comes outward, laser focused - usually at me. (Because who else is there?) I spent many hours this week (okay, the last few months) being annoyed and angry and treating the trauma as "typical teenage angst", but I forgot the basic rule of trauma - the "bad" behavior is a result of fear.
TK goes to therapy once a week or so. After the session, TK is usually lighthearted and even silly.....for an hour or two. Then TK becomes introspective, disgruntled, and often quite mean. I get it. I've been through therapy and I know it leaves you raw and needing to process through what you just talked about. When you're an adult, you usually do that in the privacy of your own head. When you're a 12 year old trauma kid.......not so much. We often bang heads later that night, and I frequently hear how everything is fine except for me; that I cause the angst, I make TK's life worse, etc. It always hurts my feelings but I remind myself that TK is healing and all that turmoil has to go somewhere. (The part that stinks about being a single parent is it ALWAYS goes on me.) This week was typical - all happiness and light for a while, then the trauma monster came out to play.
To TK's credit (and mine), even when the conversation got really hard and tears were flowing (from both of us), neither of us walked away. We stayed in the conversation and kept working through it. A lot if it WAS typical teenage stuff - "you don't trust me, you think I'm stupid and can't make good decisions", but even typical teenage stuff is not typical when it comes from a trauma kid. But as the conversation continued, TK suddenly yelled, "You have no idea how hard it is to wonder every day if you're going to get hurt or die when you're at school bus driver training! You don't know what you're doing and that thing is HUGE. Every day I'm scared to death my phone will ring and I'll have to ask a teacher to take me home or to the hospital."
Fear....it's always fear. I will say that quite honestly part of me was glad to hear that because, like most parents of teenagers, I spend most of my time sure TK hates me. It was nice to know TK was scared to lose me. After TK made that statement, all the energy went out of the argument. TK had voiced the real issue, and NOW we could move forward. I spent a long time explaining the training process and the safety measures, and I told TK if the fear was paralyzing I would find another option.
I had never occurred to me that TK was scared I could get hurt/die learning to drive a bus. (At this point in the blog I mentally slap myself in the head and say, "Really? 8 years in and you STILL don't get this?") But the changing face of trauma had me fooled. It manifested as teenage angst and hormonal drama, and I bought into it. That undoubtedly is part of it and makes the trauma stuff even harder (oh goodie).
When your teenage TK is going off the rails, remember that under all that "you are the worst parent ever" stuff is the voice of that baby/little kid/big kid in the orphanage (hospital, foster care system, wherever) scared no one will be there to love them and keep them safe.
So yep, I forgot to look for the fear. But I'm giving myself grace and letting it go. Hopefully I'll remember to look for it next time (because there will be a next time). It can be a lot harder to dig down to it as our TKs get older, but I was reminded that if I stay in the conversation (and I have been known to walk away because I just don't want to hear it and I'm tired of it), we get to the real issue. I did this pretty easily when TK was younger. It's harder now -TK is much better at hitting where it hurts (emotionally) and it takes a lot to hang in there through all the hard stuff. But it's worth it.
Do your best to ride out the hard stuff, trauma mamas. The only way past trauma is through it. There's no seatbelt and it seems like the world's longest ride a lot of days, but when you see the look on your TK's face when they truly feel heard and safe, it's worth every tear - even the ones your cry into your pillow when your TK is sleeping.
Give yourself grace when you unbuckle and get off the ride for a while. Sometimes you just need to get your own equilibrium before you can go for round 2,679.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)