Hard Truths and Conundrums

TK (Trauma Kid) is a freshman. School just started this week, and you can imagine the unrest.  The anticipation (read anxiety) has been high. Because it's no fun if you don't really stir the pot, we also started going to a new church last month.  These changes have, of course, sent TK akimbo.  I foolishly never thought about how going to a new church (and to be honest TK hasn't been inside a church in years -another long story for a different day) would unsettle her.  To me it is all good - making new friends, her getting to be part of a vibrant youth group of 200+ middle and high schoolers, getting closer to God, being involved in our community in a whole new way. But to her it's 200+ new chances for rejection.  

She went to the first group meeting and had a blast. She came out laughing and talking about the nice people she'd met.  But of course in the 7 days until the next meeting, her anxiety kicked in.  "What if they all already have friends and don't want to include me? What if I"m not "churchy" enough? What if I look stupid when we have worship?"  Tuesday night (youth group is Wed) she told youth group was stupid and she wasn't going.  Luckily I've been on this ride for many years so I knew that was just one hill in the roller coaster.  Last night (wed) she told me she really wanted to go but she was really tired from the first week of school.  Maybe next week......

We were a dear friend's house Tuesday night. She has a daughter close to TK's age, and they enjoy being together - usually.  However, I watched TK  devolve into a rude, mean, demanding, self-centered person as my friend and I were talking and not including her.  To be honest, I didn't pay it much mind except to be embarrassed by her behavior. But this so normal that I didn't really give it a second thought.....which is actually really sad.  I watched TK alienate her friend and push buttons to get attention and some part of me thought that was normal. My friend, who speaks completely from a place of love, mentioned that it was hard to watch TK be so rude and disrespectful to me.  Honestly, I hadn't paid much mind to that either.  I always lean toward the "you should see how it USED to be...this is infinitely better" mindset.  But it gave me pause. I fear I have taught TK that her behavior is acceptable. In choosing my battles, perhaps I've chosen far too few.  

Yes, there are a million valid reasons why I chose the battles I did:  I'm her only safe person so I can't cross that line; mental and emotional exhaustion....you Trauma Mamas know the list because you live it. But I can't help wondering if a lot of it is just "it's easier to let it go".  But that's a huge disservice too, because I now have a teenager who thinks that behavior is okay.  

We have hit the point where her therapist tells me to not take on her feelings.  When they're little, they have to be able to hand their feelings to you because it's too much for them to carry. But as they get older, they are capable of carrying these unpleasant feelings.  The challenge is the transition.  When TK tries to foist her anger (i.e., fear) on me I just respond blandly, "Oh."  That makes her  incredibly angry, so the wheels come off her bus and I try my best to keep the wheels on mine.  I know she is utterly confused at the change.  Inevitably she grows from it, but it is brutal in the meantime. 

I am devastated watching TK self-sabotage any friendship she has.  I get it.....the possibility of getting hurt is incredibly scary, so she resorts to her "I'll decide I don't like you and push you until you don't like me. Then I can say I was right and you weren't a good friend."  The weird part is she is so thoughtful and empathetic to strangers. She is the first one to run to hold a door for a mom with a stroller, help someone put their groceries in their car, and she's amazing with the differently abled kids at school.  But whenever someone starts to get close, her fear takes over.   You can literally watch her personality change from considerate girl to all out mean girl.  That kills me.  I've watched her do it a million times and I don't know how to help her get past it.  

A few weeks ago we went through all the paperwork I had from her adoption. One piece showed that her birth mother had her for ten days before she surrendered her.  I know that was devastating for her.  On some level I can only imagine that feels like "it was personal. She didn't want ME"...not that she couldn't take care of any baby.   We've been talking a lot about her birth parents (unfortunately we know nothing about birth dad).  Her amazing therapist is also adopted, so that is a gift.  

This is such a season of struggle for her, and having good friends (whether they get it or not) would boost her self-esteem and make it easier to carry the load of "why wasn't I good enough? Who am I really?"  I am helpless to help her.  

I am trying to give myself grace for where we are right now. I've played the "should have" game the last few days, and I'm trying to remember that at every moment I did the best I could.  I hate seeing her stuck....and knowing she's the only one who can get herself unstuck.  But fear is so powerful. 

Give yourselves grace, Trauma Mamas, when you get into the should have game. As the amazing Maya Angelou said, "When you know better, you do better."  We have all done the best we could every moment---even when it didn't seem very good.  This battle is ongoing, and we are all mighty warriors for our trauma kids.  Never forget that you fight the good fight every day....no matter how tired, no matter how broken you feel, you just keep marching.  You are amazing, Trauma Mamas.

Keeping it real - really really real

This will be a different post today, Trauma Mamas.  I've always tried to keep it real, but this time I'm going hard core reality.  I'm doing this in the hope, as always, that it touches someone's heart and makes them feel less alone, less misunderstood, less rejected.  But this post will be about me, the Trauma Mama, and not the Trauma Kid.
For most of my adult life I have dealt with chronic illness and/or chronic pain .... endometriosis, fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, lyme disease and babesia.....and other mystery pain of unknown origin.  I spent years on hard core opiates - including wearing a morphine patch for 5 years.  I was always closely supervised by a legit pain clinic but those drugs were the only reason I functioned for many years.  Pain, in varying degrees, has been a part of my daily life for over 25 years. I can hide it better than most people, and very few, if any, can tell when I'm really hurting.  When pain is your reality you just deal with it. I firmly believe sitting around feeling miserable and sorry for yourself is a waste of time.

I adopted my amazing, beautiful, courageous TK from Russia when she was one. We have battled trauma, attachment and mental health issues since she was 4. I have always been an army of one. My support system is......me.  Feel free to chime in on how unhealthy that is.....I know.  But for a variety of reasons (primarily a world that doesn't understand the impacts of trauma and thus rejects our TKs, blame our parenting for the problems, and writes us off) that has been our reality.

Her emotional challenges and my physical challenges have, many times, put us in financial straits.  I am unable to work full time (or even really part time if there's a schedule attached) because I never know when the Lyme disease will flare up to make me barely functional.  Our house is a mess (I'm ignoring my need to defend myself and focusing on being real). Our front garden looks like the Clampetts moved in (google it if you're too young to catch the reference!) unless I go hog wild and rip everything out (which has happened but the dang stuff grows back). The list of projects to be done in the house is ridiculous, but always a casualty of either finances or energy.

This isn't a poor me post.  But it is an attempt to remind all of us that we don't know what goes on behind someone's doors- either of their house, their heart, or their mind.  That's why we need to extend grace with abandon.  Your challenges are different from mine, but no less real and no less consuming.  I will always try to meet you with grace.  Pay the grace forward, my friends.  Heaven knows we all need it.

To my non-trauma mama friends.....we need your abundant grace as well.  We trauma mamas are often exhausted and/or overwhelmed.  But we keep plugging because our trauma kids, while challenging, are also incredibly brave, resilient, amazing humans who have made our lives and our hearts infinitely more full. We don't ask for sympathy, just understanding.....and grace.....that above all.

trip wires

It's been a really challenging few months.  I was recently diagnosed with Lyme and Babesia (basically a co-infection that makes symptoms worse), and the treatment is long and improvements are slooooow.  Trauma Kid (TK) also started on antidepressants. I agonized over this decision, but I've seen some improvements (and some days where she seems worse than ever).....I guess the jury is still out. 

The antidepressant ride has been akin to the Tower of Terror....you know, the one where you plunge straight down, bounce up, plunge down some more, repeat.  That's very much what it's been like in our house the last three weeks. So far TK has tried two different meds,  with dose tweaks.  The first one yielded results but left TK really fatigued. The second one makes her less tired, but she is all over the map right now.  Tonight was a night filled with trip wires.  

TK has noticed she's happier when she spends less time on her phone. Since we changed meds she is either really happy or really withdrawn. I reminded TK she was happier when she put her phone down. BANG - Trip wire #1 set off. That lit off the 10 minute argument of how mean I was because I told her she had to do chores, how I never appreciate anything she does, etc.  I reminded her I said thank you regularly. BANG - Trip wire #2.  She told me thank you is meaningless to her generation. (I should get points for not laughing. It helped that I was royally pissed off.)  I explained that thank you meant something to me, so when I said it I meant is as true appreciation. Of course that was met with, "Well it doesn't mean anything to me so you need to say something different."

BANG - Trip wire #3 (and that one was obviously set on a timer, because nothing specific set it off). "Every time I try to do something nice for you you either won't let me or you screw it up."  I hear this one a lot, and I have yet to figure out what is behind it.  She'll say she offered me water and I said no thanks, I already had some.  Ditto a snack or anything.  Then she asked me (yelled) "what do you want me to do?" I told her I wanted her to do her (expletive deleted) chores.  BANG - Trip wire #4. "You don't know how much I already do around here; you expect me to do everything, etc, etc". That part to me seems like normal teenager stuff. I told her it was simple - no chores, no allowance.  That got the usual teenager moans - "You're mean. You're nicer to everyone but me. You never do anything nice for me. You need to figure out why you're so mean."

Trip wire #5 was randomly set off as she was on a roll. "You can't make me take medicine. You can't make me go to a counselor. You can't make me do anything."  (This belligerent, confrontational rant happened frequently before she started the antidepressant, so the fact that it came back makes me think we need to switch.)  Not long after this she headed to her room, where I heard lots of things getting tossed around (I haven't looked yet), so it feels like we've lost whatever headway we had made. I hate hate hate that she feels so out of control again that it manifests physically. I can't imagine how scary it is for her to feel so overwhelmed that the only release is destruction.

But the part that really stumps me in all this is why everything in her mind is a competition with me.  If I say I'm tired she blows up about how she was up with the dog two nights in a row and school is so hard, etc.   I told her I wasn't saying I was more tired than she was or that she wasn't tired, it was just a statement of fact about how I was feeling.  Often she'll tell me she doesn't care how I feel.  I've heard that so often I'm immune to it.  That is the ultimate defense mechanism for her.  I think it comes from the place of "I'm so overwhelmed with my feelings and fears that I cannot absorb anyone else's feelings."  Almost any comment I make about myself, my wellbeing, or something I've done somehow threatens her and she goes into full-on defensive (which for TK means aggressive) mode.  I've tried to get to get to the core of this one and it still confounds me.  It's exhausting. Sometimes it feels like I have to be a ghost of myself to keep her feeling safe.  That's not feasible and it's not going to happen, but I can't figure out how to open to door to the road to healing that part of her that feels threatened.  And I fundamentally cannot understand where it comes from. Usually I can work my way to a root cause, and then I can at least begin to understand it.

So here I sit, trying to decide if tonight was a bad med reaction, if we need to change it again, if we need to wait it out, or if it's just normal trauma teenager stuff.  While I do believe adding the meds was necessary, it does add another variable to consider when assessing behavior changes, mood changes, etc.  Right now it feels like there are too many variables - teenagerhood, hormones, meds, trauma......trying to discern which one is behind the tripwires has me stumped.  

I can't find the grace in this one yet, Trauma Mamas. I'll let you know when I do.

Struggling to find the grace

Trauma Kid (TK)'s therapist and I have been talking a lot about the balance of power. I have acknowledged for a while that I had given too much to TK, but honestly didn't know how to shift it without being totally draconian.  After talking it through it seemed that it was time to get draconian and just know it wouldn't be well received. I can handle that - I  handle pushback and drama frequently. I'm an old pro. 

Tonight TK got a new list of chores (okay, I said I'd be honest in this blog.....she currently doesn't have any chores right now except what she feels like doing or can get paid for).  She of course flipped out and told me it wasn't fair for me to "start adulting all at once".  I take umbrage at the thought that I haven't been adulting, but I admit I have let her be far too much of an adult.  I can whine and lay out all the reasons.  The short answer is I did, as always, what I thought was best for our family at the time.  In retrospect some of it was pretty much a disastrous decision. 

TK and I got into a very heavy conversation about last year. She told me that was the year I stole her childhood.  I asked her to explain, and she told me I was "all over her" when she was unhappy or upset and I wouldn't just let her screw up.   While some of that is crap, there is some truth in it.  So I agreed - and told her the reason why.  I explained how hearing her tell me that there had been a lot of nights she prayed not to wake up - AFTER the fact - was the scariest thing I've ever heard.  So yes, when she got out of whack I was all over it.  I lived in fear of her going back to that place.  And I live with the guilt of not knowing that's where she was.  So I parented from a place of fear and guilt.....and of course, love.  Love is a great place from which to parent. Fear and guilt are recipes for catastrophic failure.  In restrospect I see how I let too much go, gave too much leeway, offered too many get out of jail free cards - because I was scared. Scared she would go back to that place of darkness, scared I wouldn't know it. 

She was surprised when I told her I slept outside her door for two weeks after she told me that most horrifying statement. She asked why and I told her I knew that way I would hear her if she did anything. She cried with me at that point. I think maybe that bought a little grace for both of us.

Of course she's 13 so I'm regulated to "bad parent". I'm okay with that. But I'm wrestling with seeing the errors and knowing the impact and, even while knowing I did the best I could in that moment, still knowing it wasn't right and was even damaging.  I'm struggling to give myself grace for that.

 But, as Maya Angelou said, "when you know better you do better."  I'm striving to leave behind the guilt and live that out.  

Grace is hard to find sometimes, Trauma Mamas.  But remember that coming from a place of love is grace at its finest. I'm trying to remember that right now myself.

Annoyed Compassion

Annoyed compassion - I know, it's rather like "jumbo shrimp".  But I am living proof that annoyance and compassion can, and do, dwell simultaneously in a person.

Trauma Kid (TK) is a teenager....a challenging time for any parent, I'm told.  As TK is my first teenager, I don't have a comparison, but I strongly expect parenting a TK through teenagerhood is rather different than parenting a non-trauma kid.  As a parent to a 13 year old, eye rolling and sighing are a normal part of our day (and sadly, I report, it's often on my part!). But there's more - there always seems to be with TKs.  Our days often include sudden bursts of anger that are disproportionate to the event.  It reminds me of when TK was younger, because I see that same out of control look in her eyes when it happens.  

I am weary of it, and utterly annoyed by the attitude of disrespect that her need for a sense of control makes so common.  And yet my heart aches for her, because I cannot imagine how emotionally exhausting it is to so often feel on the verge of being completely out of control, of devolving into fits of anger, of struggling to maintain composure when your brain is always in full alert mode.  So yes, I am full of compassion for her. And yes, I am utterly annoyed and over it all. 

One thing I thought we had (more or less) conquered was the scarcity mentality that so many of our TKs have.  I can now (sometimes) compliment a friend without TK feeling "less than". But she has transferred the scarcity beyond me to others.  When our dear friends (our "here family") noted my weight loss (a result of 6 months of a complete diet overhaul) and didn't notice her "amazing muscles" that resulted from two weeks of running (ah, the optimism of youth), she was devastated - and thus angry at everyone who hadn't remarked on her "transformation".  And of course she was angry at me because I was the object of their positive comments.  So I feel (as parents of TKs often do) the desire to minimize my accomplishments, to shove her in front of me so she gets noticed.  I'm angry at myself for this.  I worked hard to make good choices in spite of two shoulder surgeries and single mom'ing TK through all my post-surgery pain and rehab(s).  I SHOULD be allowed to be proud and be noticed.  Yet I find myself staying away from the functions that will result in people noting my changes, because it's not worth the fallout.  While my heart hurts that she feels there is not enough to go around, I am also annoyed that I am not allowed to be in the spotlight for any moment.  (This is something her therapist and I are attacking this fall, but that's a blog entry for another day.)

I can argue that I shouldn't rearrange my life/plans to avoid her potentially getting dysregulated, agree that it's not "normal", but the reality is sometimes it's just too hard to deal with the fallout of situations, so I avoid them.  I have to choose my battles, and it feels like they are neverending lately.  So yes, I rearrange my life around TK's moods and try to avoid situations that will cause strife.  Should I?  Probably not. Maybe I should put her in those situations and let her grow through them. But that growth comes at a cost to me, and sometimes I'm just not in a place to pay it.

TK's doc and I are talking about putting her on meds for anxiety.  I have such mixed feelings about this. TK readily tells people she suffers from anxiety and depression, but she balks at taking meds because that makes her "broken."  In spite of all my speeches about it being a physical thing, a brain chemistry imbalance, "needing" medicine still makes her feel "less than".  I hate that she needs them, but I think about how hard she struggles every day to feel in control of herself, and I want to offer whatever relief I can to make her days easier.  I told her I took them for a time myself, and it's a temporary thing until her brain matures more and learns more coping skills. The doc will broach it with her at her physical.....TBD how that plays out.

Give yourselves grace, Trauma Mamas - grace when you avoid the hard situations because you just can't deal with the fallout, grace when you get annoyed with the challenges you face, grace when you make choices other don't agree with or can't understand.  And mostly give yourselves grace when your compassion takes a backseat to your frustration, annoyance, and exhaustion.  The battles continue to arise, but your love and compassion (even when hard to find) will bring you and your TK through.

A real first

For the first time ever, I actually got in the car, turned it on, opened the garage and started to back out - after yelling to TK that I was "going out and would be back in a while" and slamming multiple doors on my way out.  Don't get me wrong, I've thought about doing it a zillion times before, but today I actually got the car out of the garage.  Then my mom guilt kicked in and I pulled back into the garage, got out of the car, told TK (without yelling) that I would be out back if she needed me, and proceeded out onto the deck where I summarily THREW all the stuff that  needed to be cleared off the deck into the yard.  

What precipitated my personal meltdown?  It was a bad day - a really, really, really bad day.  

TK is facing a lot of challenges right now.  They have just entered the throes of standardized testing at school - 6 days of it coming up. Add to that needing to learn lines for a play, having a stress fracture so stuck in a boot and unable to do the dance steps for the play or participate in the school's 5k, etc.  Basically it's a perfect storm of overwhelm.  To make it even stormier, I had shoulder surgery 8 weeks ago and my recuperation has been beyond slow and challenging. I am running on way too little sleep and dealing with muscle spasms and the frustration of not being anywhere close to where I should be in the rehab process.  This means I am less emotionally available, less sympathetic, and, according to TK, totally selfish.  

When TK is overwhelmed and dysregulated, the new "script" is this....
 - I keep telling you the same things over and over and you never listen
 - You don't seem to care about anything I do or say
 - The only time you seem to be happy is when someone else is around
 - Nothing I do is good enough for you; I can never make you happy
 - I'm not enough for anybody; nothing I do matters
The ironic part of this script is virtually the same script runs through my head.

I get it; I understand the trauma spiral of doom that goes from "I'm feeling overwhelmed" to "I am useless". But I admit I am tired....tired of being the only one who gets  blamed; tired of fighting to stay regulated myself when accused of being selfish and uncaring; tired of putting my needs and desires aside to address TK's; tired of the knowledge that no matter how good things seem, there is certainly a period of dysregulation and the associated drama looming.

We go far longer between periods of dysregulation, yet in some ways I find them even more exhausting. Perhaps I get lulled into complacency when things are good; perhaps I choose to believe that we have hit that magic point where trauma no longer affects us beyond a small occasional blip; perhaps I am just living in a dream world and hoping beyond hope that we are done.   But we are not done.  I don't know if we will ever be done.  We surely have made progress, and trauma no longer rules every moment of our lives, but it is always there, lurking, waiting, seeking that one stress point where the overwhelm can sneak in and make common problems unbearable.  

The rules keep changing, trauma mamas.  Take courage from knowing you have made it this far in the journey and you are strong enough to keep fighting the good fight.  Give yourself grace when you want to get in the car and keep driving, when you can't bear to hear the script and pretend it doesn't hurt you one more time, when you long with all your being to just  be "done".  I get it.  I'm there with you. We will conquer this latest trauma challenge as we have conquered the ones before - with patience, grace, and love.

wait, what?

Someone (who has dealt with with TK every day for over 7 months and has been privy to the many meetings about TK and how her trauma manifests and how we deal with it) made a comment today about TK that had me questioning a lot of things.....her progress along this trauma journey, the choices I've made as her parent, the choices I continue to make....but after a lot of tears and contemplation I realized I need to be asking different questions. 

I need to ask:
 - Why do people still not understand a particular behavior or pattern of behaviors are a form of communicating a need and not a manipulation or histrionics?
- Why do people not understand that a Trauma Kid's attempts to draw attention to themselves are not about selfishness but are about needing connection and safety?
- Why do people want to remove the safeguards we have so painstakingly put in place to help our TKs, thinking that removing them will force our TKs  to just  "tough it out and deal with the real world"?


I guess the most important questions of all are:
 - When will people view trauma with compassion and not judgment? 
 - When will people want to start really learning about trauma? 
 - When will more people really be willing to put in the effort to change our TK's lives for the better?


Some basic truths: 
 - The effects of trauma can't be erased with a year (or two or ten) of effort.
 - The tools/safeguards we put into place (e.g., 504/IEP, etc) can't be yanked out so the trauma kid can "better learn to deal with the real world". Those tools may be needed forever - and THAT'S OKAY.  Our goal isn't to get rid of the safeguards. Of course we hope to not need them one day, but our goal is to make our TKs feel safe enough to learn and succeed.  If we remove those safeguards the minute things improve, there will be no safety net when the inevitable backward step occurs.
 - Behaviors are communication; it's our job as the responsible adults to translate it.
 - The face of trauma changes; how our TKs react in any situation one time does not mean they will react the same way the next time.  There are so many variables in trauma that must be considered.
 - Our TKs can't just "tough it out and get over it."
 - Trauma causes neurodiversity.....the brain is changed. We have the ability to deal with the changes; we just have to have the willingness.
 - It's hard.  It's relentless and ever-changing and never takes a vacation.

But there are other truths just as important:
- It's doable.  You can make progress, though often there are as many backward steps as there are forward steps.
 - Your kid is so much more than a TK. Don't lose sight of that.  Don't lose sight of how smart/funny/loving/amazingly courageous they are.
 - You are so much more than a Trauma Mama.  Don't lose sight of how smart/funny/loving/amazingly courageous YOU are.

I know this was a rambling blog.  There are a lot of thoughts running through my brain, and a lot of emotions running through my heart.  Mostly I feel discouraged and disappointed.  I forget that not everyone is on board. I forget that even though I spend lots of time trying to educate people, some don't get it, and some don't WANT to get it. I forget that not everyone is willing to give TK the grace she needs as she goes along her journey. And sometimes, like today, I forget to stop and look at how far we've come.  That's where the grace is...in stopping and reflecting on the successes (however minor) and progress (however minuscule).   

Trauma sucks.  Dealing with trauma every day sucks. I know how hard it is for us Trauma Mamas; I can't even imagine how much harder it is for our kids.  But they're not alone, and luckily, neither are we.  We can do this, Trauma Mamas. As Glennon Doyle says, we can do hard things.  And we ARE doing hard things.....every single day.  

So the next time someone says something "helpful" that rocks my world a little, I'll stop and go back and read some old blog entries and remember how far we've come, and relish in the fact that while we still have a long way to go, we are on the right road.  Hold onto the grace that brought you this far and know it will go with you as you move forward. I'm here with you, Trauma Mamas. 

Loathe....abhor.....detest

I loathe trauma --- with every ounce of my being.  It is the seemingly unbeatable opponent. No matter how many years of love and tears and prayers I pour into it, I cannot erase the neglect and abuse of the first year of my Trauma Kid's (TK's) life.  Sometimes it seems we are winning the battle; the smiles are more frequent than the tears, moments of true joy arise, and we live in a peaceful happy house.  Then there days like today.  

Something happened at school. I still don't know exactly what, but evidently TK made an inappropriate comment about something in Social Studies.  I'm confident this was a comment about the topic at hand and not about a person in the class. (While that could quite honestly happen, it's not likely to happen in front of the whole class).  Whatever was said was egregious enough that TK was given a really hard time by the classmates.  So much so that TK sat alone at lunch - not by choice. And when I say alone I mean the only person at the table.

TK has (had?) two best friends. One told TK they were ditching her because there were better people to hang out with. The other one talked to TK after school; they argued and the friend told TK they were done forgiving TK's shortcomings.  The result of this was TK coming out sobbing, then calming down and telling me, "I wish I would die."  I asked TK if I should be scared by this statement.  TK told me, "I don't know.  I don't know at what point I say that and I really mean it and not just for this moment but for forever."  

Luckily we had an appointment with the therapist tonight, so things got turned around a bit.

On the way home, TK told me to "stop overreacting to me saying I wish I would die. You need to let it go. I mean it for a minute but then I'm okay so I need you to just stop worrying and making a big deal out of it."  I explained that when I asked if I needed to be scared, the answer I got was basically, "maybe", so it was hard to just let it go. 

I am weary.  I can't find the grace in this.  I guess the only grace I can find right now is there is no school tomorrow because of snow so TK doesn't have to face the "former friends" and feel that rejection and isolation.

I get it. I know TK is harsh and brutally mean when hurt.  I get how people run from that.  I know it's not reasonable to ask 12 and 13 year olds to look past that and realize TK's brain is damaged.  TK looks fine and smiles and fakes it, so when TK explodes it surprises people who haven't been in TK's life very long. But I wish I could explain it to them; tell them TK goes into a fight or flight mode when rejected and truly can't control the words that come out; tell them that TK is desperate for acceptance and knows the anger and harsh words are counterproductive but can't control them; tell them TK is funny and courageous and deals with more than most people will ever know.  But I can't.  So I will wait until TK is in bed to cry; I will try not to have this niggling fear that TK may hit that point where I really do need to be scared; I will try to listen and not react; I will struggle to make peace with this trauma beast and not give up the fight to defeat it once and for all.

I am weary.  Trauma Mama'ing is exhausting, and solo Trauma Mama'ing is at times mind-numbingly so.  But the moments of smiles and joy give us the strength to hang in (even if by our fingernails). 

Hang tough, Trauma Mamas.  Sharpen those fingernails and dig them in if you need to. Grab the grace in a snow day or a smile (or a great therapist).

Painful truths

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. 

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. 

Conflicting truths

TK has been seeing a counselor, and it's been a good thing.  It has helped her to express her feelings and gives her a safe space to vent.  It's also been a huge challenge- for me.  Her feelings seem to center around how everything is my fault. 

Case in point:
The last few years I worked part time at a small private school. This year they let me know very late in the summer that they wouldn't be using me this year.  I began to scramble because I need to work. It's partly the money but mostly the social and community aspect of it. I  need to be a contributing member of the world, interacting with people other than TK and making a difference to someone.   While I know I am a good mom, there are many days (more now that TK has put voice to her seemingly endless dissatisfaction with me) that I feel insufficient, and I  nearly always feel unfulfilled by my role as mom.

Today after therapy TK told me that my pursuing this job was stressing her out and having a tremendous negative impact on her.  She felt I was too invested, spending too much time studying, and putting way too much importance on it.  

The truth is the bulk of my studying has been done when she is holed up in her room or asleep or at school.  The truth is I'm GOOD at this - I'm kicking butt and that feels amazing. I have felt mediocre for so long that this feels fabulous.  The truth is she needs to know I am more than just a mom. The truth is this is long overdue.  The truth is I resent that she is resentful of this.  

But the truth is also that she feels rejected.  The truth is she is scared I'll love driving a bus more than I love her.  The truth is she's afraid if I'm really good at something else I won't need her.  The truth is I built this monster by putting my life on hold to move her through her trauma as much as possible.

The ugly truth is I'm tired of always choosing trauma over everything else.  The ugly truth is I am resentful as hell that I have to choose between keeping TK regulated and having a life.  The ugly truth is anytime I choose to pursue an independent pursuit there will be fallout.  The ugly truth is I always have to decide if what I'm doing /gaining is worth the price.

This time it is worth the price.  The fallout will be real. I don't know how severe it will be or how long it will last, but I'm sure it will be unpleasant, to put it mildly.

I guarantee there are those reading this who are thinking, "that's what happens when you put your kids at the center of your life. That's what you get for choosing to keep the peace over fulfilling your own needs."  And I get it; I've had those same thoughts myself.  But then I remember how incredibly broken our family was and how magical it is that while it is still broken, there are many parts of it that have healed.  That healing could not have occurred without those sacrifices.  So I will continue to second-guess my choices, and I will continue trying to balance her sense of rejection with my need for personal fulfillment, and I will continue to cry when it gets ridiculously hard, because it is and will be again.  But then I will stop, re-read some early blog entries and remind myself of how far we've come, and know that I did that. My choices and my sacrifices and my commitment did that. So I will give myself some grace and hold on as we navigate the rocky path we are now on.  We've gotten through much worse.

Give yourselves grace, Trauma Mamas, when you allow yourself to nurture yourself.  Give yourself the grace of at least once not laughing out loud when someone mentions "self care". Give yourself the grace of knowing you made the decisions you made to heal your family, and no one else will likely ever understand that.  Give yourself the grace of feeling however you feel and knowing those feelings don't change your commitment and indefatigable love for your TK.  You rock, Trauma Mamas. You deserve so much more than that tiny bit you're giving yourself right now, so grab it and cherish it and know you are worth it.

Maybe....

Summer "vacation" - a misnomer if ever there was one.  Spending nearly every minute of every day with a Trauma Kid (TK) who thrives on structure and predictability and is thrust into the "what are we going to do today" reality of summer is NOT a vacation.

It was, at least, better than previous summers. TK is maturing and learning to handle her dysregulation better, but there is still a long way to go.  But we hung tough - until the last two weeks.  A "friend" of TK (whom I had never liked but couldn't pin down why) and TK got into a big argument.  I don't know exactly what was said but given this was two tweenage girls I'm sure it got nasty. The "friend" texted TK that she was going to kill herself. TK showed me the text.  I had no way to get in touch with the mom so I called the police and told them. They did a welfare check on the girl.  The mom accused me of "ruining their life" and stalked me on messenger for a week or so. My continued failure to respond to the vitriol eventually convinced her to stop, I assume.  The girl told all their mutual friends how TK had ruined her life, wouldn't be friends with her anymore and essentially was a horrible person.  So the mutual friends came at TK accusing her of being a bad friend, saying how she hurt this girl, etc.  Can you say REJECTION?  

Lots of old behaviors surfaced - slamming doors, tantrums, "everyone hates me"......and it was compounded with tweenage hormones so we also had LOTS of tears and way too little sleep.  A new behavior manifested itself - the shutdown.  TK hibernated in her room, not talking to friends, just hiding.  She refused to trust anyone (including me) and was belligerent and nasty most of the time.  I understood it was because the rejection was overwhelming, but it was still exhausting.

With a lot of patience on my part and a good therapist, TK worked her way through it pretty well.....until school started, because of course the girl goes to TK's school. The first three days they didn't see each other, though the girl kept asking mutual friends to tell TK she missed her, etc.  Starting on day 4 the girl "managed" to run into TK every day at school, usually multiple times.  To say this threw a monkey wrench in TK's regulation is an understatement of epic proportions.  

TK did her best to not let it rattle her, but it did.  And, as inevitably happens with our TKs, even if they can bury the dysregulation for a while, it's still there, and eventually it blows.  And blow it did.

We were at out dear friend's house, laughing and relaxing and having a great night.  At one point I was very excited and said "oh my gosh".  We don't say that in our house - we say oh my goodness.  TK slapped my arm (a resounding, leave a temporary mark slap) and yelled, "Mom!"  I was livid. I had no compassion for the fact that she had been dealing with this stress at school for the last two weeks.  I was just ticked.  We immediately left and drove home in silence.  She told me she was sorry but it was cursory and lacked sincerity.  

Today we had a chat about respect and the fact that while her opinion counts, she does not have the right to control what I say; we are not peers.  Of course this was further rejection and she went into her room sobbing that I hated her.  I let her.  I believe at this point while she feels embarrassed and rejected, she does truly know that I love her.  This is a swing point for us.  Maybe it should have come sooner. Maybe I played too much into the trauma. Maybe the healing had progressed further than I knew. Maybe I blew it a thousand different times by letting her behavior be excused as trauma based. Maybe......or maybe not.  I don't know and I probably never will.  All I know is I made the best decisions I could at the time.  Would I change some of them in retrospect? Maybe...

There's no instruction manual for our TKs, trauma mamas.  Trust your gut and give yourself grace when you, like I, look back and start listing the times and ways you blew it.  Take a breath and look at the fact that you've made progress, even if it's two steps forward, one step back.....because that's still progress.

You'll screw up. I did, and do.  Grant yourself the grace of knowing the errors are made with love and based on the knowledge you have at that moment.  The rules change just about every day with TKs.  Keep on adapting, keep on loving, and most of all, keep on giving yourself grace. You deserve it.

Tonight was the night

Tonight was the night.  It was the night I patted my baby (my 12 year old, 5'6" baby) to sleep and cried.  I cried because there are only 2 days of school left and summer break looms imminent and long.  Trauma Kid (TK) doesn't want school to end either.  School is comfort - it is routine and structure, social interaction in a controlled environment, supportive and safe adults (thank heavens!).  She dreads the unknown of summer - how often will she see her friends; how will she fill her days; what other adult will be a sounding board/safe place?

I dread summer too.  I know it will be better than last year, for she has matured tremendously this year, but I also know I am facing weeks of no structure, weeks of  "what are we going to do today, Mom?", weeks of hoping we get through it with no meltdowns, no drama, no trauma.  We do have some things planned. TK is trying out for the school volleyball team, and if she makes it that will occupy some of the latter part of summer.  She is also going to spend a week with her grandparents.  But there is still a looooong stretch of just us.  

Transition is always challenging for our TKs. Transitions where people leave their lives are exceptionally challenging.  Finding a safe person at school is a gift, and I am beyond grateful that TK has two at her school. But next year she will have different teachers, so her safe people, while still there, won't be part of her daily routine. So she will mourn their loss, and I will pray she can do that without feeling rejected.

The end of school is a rough time for our TKs (and therefore, for us).  Hang tough, Trauma Mamas.  I know too well the struggle of trying to balance keeping them busy with not overstimulating them to the point of a meltdown.  Just remember, summer break is "only" 79 days long (at least here in TN).....

Trauma Mama truths

There are so many things I didn't know when I adopted a trauma kid.  I'm not talking about the good stuff, like how this child fills a hole in your heart you didn't know existed, or how you feel you are part of a holy calling called parenthood, or the thousand sweet moments where you are sure your heart will burst with love. I'm talking about the "dark side:, the side when trauma rules, the side when it is far more challenging than you ever thought anything could be.

So here it is - the things I didn't know/ no one told me:

- How many nights I would spend crying --  because she was broken and I couldn't fix her; because changing the entire way you parent is exhausting; because yet one more friend has given up because it's too hard; because no matter how much you know it isn't aimed at you, hearing "God made a mistake when He made you my mom" still cuts to the quick; because sometimes it is just too damn much to handle alone.

- How many people I would have to try to convince that just because she's "doing fine" doesn't mean she is fine. It just means she has muscled together enough regulation for the moment. Unless you are there when the wheels come off because the regulation has all been used up, don't doubt the words of the people who live with the TKs.

- How lonely it is. Friends will try to "get it", but you have to live it to really get it. TK gets better and better at regulation, especially in public, so dysregulation surprises and scares people. (Sometimes it still surprises me).  Frequently they get so freaked by it that they decide the risk is too high, so they stop inviting you to things/volunteering to help.  For years there was no "safe person" to leave her with, so I just hunkered down and did it. I'd say it's worse since I'm a single parent, except I know married trauma parents who feel just as isolated.  

- How  many events/invites would be skipped or cut short.  When dysregulation is high, you learn to skip stuff or walk out partway through, because regulation is gold.  Regulation is peace. Regulation is worth (most times) sacrificing time with friends and family because dyregulation is horrific.  Dysregulation is monstrous and consuming and mind-numbingly exhausting. So you turn down invitations, leave parties early, and generally tick off your friends until they stop inviting you (see previous entry).   

- How scared TK is.  She is almost 11 years home, but we are 7 years into the trauma journey.  In the beginning the fear was evident. Over time it manifests itself differently.  It turns from thrown objects and slammed doors to harsh words, negative self talk and random outbursts that are disproportionate to the event.  The other day she was snitty and I lost it.  (The good news is this rarely happens, so it shocks and scares her when it does.)  She came totally unglued and terrified.  I realized that while she is 99% sure she is loved unconditionally, that 1% is still there.  There is still a small part of her that worries that maybe this time she crossed the line; maybe this time she really IS unlovable.  That fear is so hard to chase out.  A shadow of it always seem to linger.

- How broken I am.  I've read that TKs are a gift to point out our own brokenness and help us heal it.  This is certainly true for me.  At some point I realized I could not help TK move forward until I  myself could move forward past my own trauma.  Working simultaneously on her trauma and mine was brutal, and I know there is still work to be done - on both fronts.  But I am grateful for the opportunity to heal.

 - How hard this is.  Granted, we have made tons of progress, but trauma is still very much a part of our lives.  It's there at night when I pat her to sleep and tell myself, "just stay quiet" while TK rants about something inconsequential (and often not the real issue). It's there when I pick her up from school and she goes to her room and slams her door because she used up all her regulation dealing with teachers and friends (and enemies).  It's there when she blows for no apparent reason, and it takes hours of talking and detective work to discover the underlying fear.  

So, dear trauma mamas, trauma dads, and trauma caregivers, there are a lot of things no one told you.  Blessedly there are almost always small moments of grace that give us enough strength to keep moving forward.  For our TKs are great purveyors of grace. It's there when they forgive our failings. It's there when they challenge themselves to move into and through a hard situation. It's there when they apologize after a bout of dysregulation. It's there when you find another Trauma Mama to share the truth.  So I offer you the grace of my truth. May it carry you through the next "hard part", because we all know there will be one.  Keep fighting the good fight, Trauma Mamas. 

How Family Game Night turned into a horror movie

Phew.  I'm exhausted. I've spent the last two hours in the hell that is puberty and trauma combined.  It is a new twist on an old song.  I'm familiar with the old trauma events; they tended to center around physical violence and tears.  The new, puberty fueled trauma events center around emotional assaults and accusations.  I find those much harder to deal with than the physical stuff.

Of course tonight I was fairly raw going in. I've been sick with shingles and then a sinus infection/ear infection/bronchitis combo since Christmas, and I am physically and mentally exhausted.  To top it off, my mom is here and earlier today I unsuccessfully tried to shut down the conversation (or monologue) where she pondered why the pediatrician who sexually assaulted me when I was 15 (but remained a 'family friend' to this day) hadn't  been in touch.  I commented that the only time I wanted to hear about him was to read his obituary (my standard reply whenever he comes up in conversation, which he does at least once every time we're together). Needless to say I was already running on emotional fumes when everything went south.

Trauma  Kid (TK) and I were playing "guess what I'm holding" (one of our many made-up games), and she decided to pull out some slime. (For those of you who don't have a middle schooler, slime is as pervasive as bottle flipping.)  When i went to poke it she told me I couldn't touch it, then slid the container off the table. She said if I picked it up I could play with the slime.  I told her she was full of it, and she said, "I promise, Mom."  Of course I picked it up and of course she told me I couldn't touch it.  I told her the word promise means something, and she shouldn't say it if she wasn't going to follow through on it.  She threw the container at me and stormed into her room.  A few minutes later she came out and told me she made fake promises all the time so why was I making a big deal of it now. I told her I had mistakenly thought it was a passing thing and I had make a mistake.  She got so angry she actually punched the wall and cracked the wallboard.  I mustered every single iota of control I had and did NOT yell. I got her some ice, told her I was sorry she felt so angry she had to punch the wall and went to my room to cool off a little. She went into her room to sob.

After many many deep breaths, I went into her room and just sat on the floor, trying to be calm.  After a few minutes of heavy sobs, she started talking, and it wasn't pretty. It was focused on how she can't talk to me because I'm so fake, I don't care about how she feels, I only pretend to care when other people are around, she doesn't even talk to me anymore because she knows I'm just pretending, she's scared that I don't really care about her, she feels bad because she's always making me do stuff I hate doing like jumping on the trampoline., and lots more.....primarily focused on my failings.

I stuffed away all my hurt (because there was plenty) and told her I was sorry if she felt I didn't love her, that I really hoped some part of her knew I loved her ALWAYS no matter what, and then I foolishly tried to address her list of "complaints".  In retrospect, that was foolish.  It was like addressing the angry actions /violence in the "old days".  I had to get deeper, past the "let me hurt you so you don't hurt me" statements to the core......it's in there.  Did you catch it?  I didn't at first.  "She's scared I don't really care about her."  Some part of me flips out when I hear that (just internally though), and I get both hurt and angry.  But the hurt and anger are my crud, not hers, so i try my very best not to level them at her.  I just repeated that I really hoped some part of her knew that she was the most important thing in my life, that I was sorry if i didn't make that clear and disappointed her, but there is not a single second of my life that I don't love her and am grateful for her.

She eventually came and sat next to me on the floor.  I apologized and told her I'd never raised a tweenager before and I would make mistakes, but I would keep trying to get better.  She leaned over and put her head in my lap and sobbed for a few more minutes.  Then she sat up and asked if we could keep talking (it was already an hour past bedtime).  WHAT? You just said you couldn't talk to me so you didn't even try!  Of course I said yes and I heard things I've heard before, but we laughed and moved past the trauma drama.  

I admit I am wounded.  The specific targeted emotional shots are much more damaging than the generalized emotional attacks of the old trauma events.  I am now struggling with trying to discern what, if anything, of what she levelled at me is true and what was just trauma and puberty talking.  I honestly don't know. I just know I want to run away for a few days and get away from the madness, but that's not in the realm of possibility, so, as always, I will dig deep and pull up my big girl trauma mama pants and get on with it.

Shoot me some grace to move past the hurtful words and hold onto the laughter that we shared.  I'm sending you grace for those days when the emotional battle is full-on and brutal. Hang tough, Trauma Mamas.  The journey keeps changing, and it IS exhasuting when your tools don't work anymore, or you have to at least tweak them to make them work.   But your TK is still needing the grace of hearing they are loved and accepted just as, and where, they are.  That's a grace we all need. 

pondering and puzzling

I have a friend who has 3 kids, and she LOVES summer vacation, counts the days until fall, winter and spring breaks, and is truly sad when her kids go back to school.  I sort of envy that. Because I always feel like a bad mom when folks are talking about how excited they are about breaks and all I feel is dread.  TK is a ton of fun, has a great sense of humor, and is a good sidekick for shopping.  But she is also a tween, so most of my suggestions about what to do get shot down.  And she talks - a lot - long, rambling monologues about things in which I feign interest while internally wanting to gouge out my ears and wondering if she can tell my "wow, really?" and "I never knew that" are completely fake.

Of course my friend's kids aren't TKs, and she has a hubby (who works a lot, but still there's someone to tag out with occasionally) and relatives nearby.  But still, I feel like I'm missing something.  My goal for school breaks is to survive with as little drama as possible. Of course I want to have fun and I try to pack a lot in to keep TK entertained and happy.  I know boredom is good for creativity, and it's not my job to entertain her, but TK gets pretty dysregulated when there is no schedule and no school (where her social interaction occurs), so busy tends to keep her from imploding....or at least limits the trauma meltdowns.

This break has been exceptionally tough.  We only had one major trauma meltdown,  though definitely lots of mini-meltdown moments.  TK keeps commenting that I'm grumpy.   I admit I don't like the Christmas holidays - they bring to the forefront the fact that we are flying solo.  There is an abundance of family togetherness over the holidays, and we're not in that place in our lives.  So other than a short visit from Grandmom and two bouts of friend time, it's been just the two of us for 19 days (well, 18 days- day 19 is tomorrow). That is an overabundance of togetherness with limited other people in the picture.  We have had moments of hilarity and true joy, but mostly we've soldiered through.  That makes me sad, as I want our lives to be so much more than just "getting through".  

I'm trying to step back and look at the last 18 days and celebrate the fact that we got through it with only one fairly large trauma moment.  Yet I find myself still puzzling and pondering why some folks truly enjoy spending huge periods of time with their kids and I find myself so challenged by that. I wonder if it would be different if TK weren't a trauma kid.  Of course such pondering is pointless, but I find myself there nonetheless.  Maybe this is just normal when your kids (TK or non) get to be tweens and teens.  And, of course, there's the whole trauma thing.......

So I'll search for some grace to get us through our last day of  winter break, and grab the grace that comes with the return of structure and regular social interaction ( and adult conversation for me!) on Monday.  And I'll ponder and puzzle and likely not gain any huge insights.  As always, some things with our TKs (and us) remain unexplained and challenging.

Hang tough, Trauma Mamas.  Whether you had a 9 day break or a 19 day break, take a breath and know you have some time before the next one (57 days on this end ---- not that I'm counting......).  Grab the grace of knowing no matter how challenging, you survived the break. Maybe you and your TK thrived, maybe you just survived, but you did it!  I'll try to grab that grace myself.

42% of the way there

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.