This blog was going to be all about the changing face of trauma, detailing how we no longer had screaming/crying jags with slamming doors and torn papers......until we did. As always, trauma keeps me humble by shattering my "certainties" and perceptions.
I've been thinking a lot lately about the changing face of trauma. We have (for the most part) moved beyond heart-wrenching sobs and level 4 meltdowns, replete with slamming doors and things being hurled/torn/broken. TK's trauma now shows itself far more internally.......upset stomach (to the point of vomiting), inability to sleep, and other far more insidious manifestations. The good news is we have set the stage for communication (and it has, hallelujah, worked!). TK has decided that she needs to talk about her day to "process out the nerves". Talking, peppermint tea, and meditations for anxiety and sleep help.....sometimes. I am thrilled that the tears and prayers and years of talking about her feelings and being accepting of them without judgment has resulted in her knowing she can talk to me about her feelings now. (Granted, she is still a tween and not yet a bona fide teenager, so I'm sure some shutdown will be coming.)
I'm not sure this manifestation of trauma is better than the previous. You'd think it would be easier, but it's just different. It requires many of the same skills, but mostly it requires patience and compassion.....listening to the same worries, same frustrations, and same feelings of insecurity and unworthiness day after day (after day after day after day......) There are some nights when TK starts talking about her day and the seemingly endless drama with a particular classmate that I want to put the pillow over my head and scream, because I've heard it all a million times. One day I offered a solution (trauma fail!) and she called me on it immediately. "Mom, I don't want your suggestions, I just want you to listen!" Letting our TKs work out their challenges can be exhausting, because it can take so long for them to get to a place of regulation where they can even BEGIN to think about solutions. Staying in that place of compassion and just hearing them often takes every iota of patience you have (and a few you have to mortgage from tomorrow). They do eventually get to problem-solving, but, as always, you have to get through the trauma junk first - the "everyone hates me, I'm not likable/lovable, I'm stupid, everyone thinks everything is always my fault". I realize these are easily attributable to tween angst as well, but the TK takes them to the most illogical conclusion so rapidly it makes your head spin. "I got in an argument with a friend today" turns into "I'll never have a friend again and everyone hates me; I have been totally rejected" in a minute or less. And everyone around them is stunned when they go off the deep end and start screaming over a "silly argument". They don't realize that your TK is now convinced they are totally rejected and alone. Normal tween angst doesn't end in that conclusion.
We haven't cracked the nut on how to handle this new manifestion of trauma. I'm working on building a new toolbox. It will contain those all purpose tools of compassion and listening, and we've added in meditation. TK still has many nights where she feels like she's going to throw up (though she hasn't in a while, so I guess we're making progress), and every so often she will even wake up in the middle of the night feeling that way, so obviously we haven't found the complete tool-set yet. And maybe we won't, and I'll do my best to be okay with that. As I keep reminding myself, Heather Forbes says, "Sometimes the growth is in the struggle." I find it harder to watch TK struggle this way than the nuclear meltdowns (and we had one of those tonight....so I have a legit comparison!).
I am so grateful for the grace that has taken us to the point where TK communicates openly and freely. Find your successes and claim the grace in them, Trauma Mamas. You'll need them on this changing, challenging journey.
As for the epic meltdown/trauma flashback....well that gives me something to blog about tomorrow.
Tuesday, April 5, 2016
Sunday, January 31, 2016
What is WRONG with her/you?
I've heard this question a few times over the last few weeks. "What is wrong with her? Is it ADD/ADHD/RAD?" No, it's Trauma. It may manifest itself as other things, but the "problem" is trauma, plain and simple.
At times it looks like ADD. When TK is stressed, she cannot focus. A brain that is scared cannot apply logic/focus/rational thinking.
At times it looks like ADHD. TK regulates through movement, so when she is overwhelmed/dysregulated, she will jump/walk/wiggle. We have been on the trampoline between 3-5 times every day for the last week. I know TK is dysregulated. This constant need for motion is a huge indicator of dysregulation.
At times it looks like RAD. When TK is really dysregulated, she will reject everyone around her. This is typical TK behavior - I will reject you before you reject me. This is NOT RAD, it's survival. In our case I have learned that almost EVERY meltdown we have goes back to TK thinking she is being rejected. Spelling words shredded? TK's thought process was likely this: "Now she will think I'm stupid because I got two words in a row wrong. I AM stupid because I got two words wrong. I'm too stupid to be loved. I am not lovable. I am not loved."
So what is "wrong" with her is that no one picked her up more than once a day for the first year of her life. What is "wrong"with her is how she was treated in an eastern European orphanage and what happened to her there (which I try not to think about). What is "wrong" with her is that she cried for hours and no one comforted her. What is "wrong" with her is people who stand in judgment and do their best to make her feel "less than". What is wrong with her? Nothing. She is strong and courageous and resilient and compassionate.
The follow on to this question is "what is wrong with you? How can you let her talk to that way/kick you/tear up her work/interrupt/hang on you?" This is not really a question; it's judgment. But I always answer the same way. "This is how we deal with trauma. It works for us."
What is "wrong" with me is I have fought this war against trauma for 6 years with no break. What is "wrong" with me is I will not sacrifice our family's peace and growth to meet your ideas of what is "right". What is "wrong" with me is I will sacrifice my friendships if that's what is needed to keep TK safe. What is wrong with me? Nothing, I am strong and courageous and resilient and compassionate.....just like my daughter.
At times it looks like ADD. When TK is stressed, she cannot focus. A brain that is scared cannot apply logic/focus/rational thinking.
At times it looks like ADHD. TK regulates through movement, so when she is overwhelmed/dysregulated, she will jump/walk/wiggle. We have been on the trampoline between 3-5 times every day for the last week. I know TK is dysregulated. This constant need for motion is a huge indicator of dysregulation.
At times it looks like RAD. When TK is really dysregulated, she will reject everyone around her. This is typical TK behavior - I will reject you before you reject me. This is NOT RAD, it's survival. In our case I have learned that almost EVERY meltdown we have goes back to TK thinking she is being rejected. Spelling words shredded? TK's thought process was likely this: "Now she will think I'm stupid because I got two words in a row wrong. I AM stupid because I got two words wrong. I'm too stupid to be loved. I am not lovable. I am not loved."
So what is "wrong" with her is that no one picked her up more than once a day for the first year of her life. What is "wrong"with her is how she was treated in an eastern European orphanage and what happened to her there (which I try not to think about). What is "wrong" with her is that she cried for hours and no one comforted her. What is "wrong" with her is people who stand in judgment and do their best to make her feel "less than". What is wrong with her? Nothing. She is strong and courageous and resilient and compassionate.
The follow on to this question is "what is wrong with you? How can you let her talk to that way/kick you/tear up her work/interrupt/hang on you?" This is not really a question; it's judgment. But I always answer the same way. "This is how we deal with trauma. It works for us."
What is "wrong" with me is I have fought this war against trauma for 6 years with no break. What is "wrong" with me is I will not sacrifice our family's peace and growth to meet your ideas of what is "right". What is "wrong" with me is I will sacrifice my friendships if that's what is needed to keep TK safe. What is wrong with me? Nothing, I am strong and courageous and resilient and compassionate.....just like my daughter.
Feelings, whoa whoa whoa feelings......
A little 80's (or maybe 70's?)flashback for you to start this entry.
TK (Trauma Kid for my newcomer readers) really hurt my feelings this weekend. (More on the specifics of that later.) At first I mentally told myself to get over it; I'm 52 years old for heaven's sake. Then I stopped and thought about how often TK and I talk about her feelings. I always tell her she is allowed to feel however she feels, but how she reacts to those feelings is the key - and the challenge. I realize that as Trauma Mamas/Trauma Dads/Trauma Caregivers we often discount our own feelings. We are so focused on what our TKs are feeling that we forget to look at our feelings and accept them as neither good nor bad, just real. It's real that we are at times exhausted/depleted/frustrated/sad and yes, even angry. It's real that we are resentful/jealous and did I mention exhausted? We are so busy dealing with our TKs' emotions that we don't put much stock in ours. Just like our TKs, we have the right to our feelings. They are valid and warranted and not at all "bad". It is our feelings that make us the warrior Mamas/Dads/Caregivers that we are. Feelings of love and compassion move us forward past the hurt/anger/sadness and into that place of grace and growth.
On to specifics....
Something surprising happened this morning and I yelped, "Oh my gosh!" (We don't say that in our family. We say "oh my goodness" or "oh my word"). TK immediately reprimanded me and smacked my arm. (TK is now 5'3" and 109 pounds, so when she doesn't hold back and swings full on, it hurts.) Being in that place of depletion and exhaustion mentioned above, I didn't react in full on Trauma Mama mode. I also didn't go fully into reactive mode (yea for me).....I shot down the middle. I immediately barked, "We do NOT hit in this family. I do not hit you and you do NOT hit me!" She huffed, "Sorry" and stomped off to her room. I was fuming and decided to walk the dog and cool off. I stuck my head in her room to tell her what I was doing.
I returned about 20 minutes later, a bit cooler headed but honestly still pretty peeved. I took a deep breath and went to talk with TK. I told her she was allowed to be angry but she needed a different way to express that anger. She went into scared trauma mode and started listing her grievances. This was pretty much a rehash of the night before. I was smart enough to recognize that there was something deeper going on here, but I wasn't in a mental spot to take it on. So I let it slide. At the end she said, "Sometimes I'm just sick and tired of you!" (Thus the hurt feelings mentioned above). I told her I was going to go in the other room for a bit. (Yes, I went to sulk.) I wasn't honestly sure how to address this, and I knew some of it was puberty (that really should be a four letter word!). People often ask me how I know if her "trauma moments" are from trauma or puberty. I've decided it doesn't matter. Fear is fear, no matter what the cause, so I address it as if it's trauma driven. That seems to work for us (most of the time).
Later TK and I went to the bookstore to buy some gifts for a family party. On the way there she apologized for "being mean" and told me she was scared about a lot of little things. None of them are a big deal, but the combo is overwhelming to her tween mind.
We managed to recalibrate and make the rest of the day happy, silly, and relatively peaceful. I love that about us. We are both willing to admit we goofed up and move past it. Honestly some days she does it better than I do. I love seeing that grace in action.
You give your TKs the grace to feel what they feel and not always respond appropriately; give yourself the same grace. Acknowledge ALL your feelings. Recognize they don't control you, but they might just inspire you. Or they may just make you want to pull the covers over your head and cry - and that's okay too. Hang tough, Trauma Mamas.
TK (Trauma Kid for my newcomer readers) really hurt my feelings this weekend. (More on the specifics of that later.) At first I mentally told myself to get over it; I'm 52 years old for heaven's sake. Then I stopped and thought about how often TK and I talk about her feelings. I always tell her she is allowed to feel however she feels, but how she reacts to those feelings is the key - and the challenge. I realize that as Trauma Mamas/Trauma Dads/Trauma Caregivers we often discount our own feelings. We are so focused on what our TKs are feeling that we forget to look at our feelings and accept them as neither good nor bad, just real. It's real that we are at times exhausted/depleted/frustrated/sad and yes, even angry. It's real that we are resentful/jealous and did I mention exhausted? We are so busy dealing with our TKs' emotions that we don't put much stock in ours. Just like our TKs, we have the right to our feelings. They are valid and warranted and not at all "bad". It is our feelings that make us the warrior Mamas/Dads/Caregivers that we are. Feelings of love and compassion move us forward past the hurt/anger/sadness and into that place of grace and growth.
On to specifics....
Something surprising happened this morning and I yelped, "Oh my gosh!" (We don't say that in our family. We say "oh my goodness" or "oh my word"). TK immediately reprimanded me and smacked my arm. (TK is now 5'3" and 109 pounds, so when she doesn't hold back and swings full on, it hurts.) Being in that place of depletion and exhaustion mentioned above, I didn't react in full on Trauma Mama mode. I also didn't go fully into reactive mode (yea for me).....I shot down the middle. I immediately barked, "We do NOT hit in this family. I do not hit you and you do NOT hit me!" She huffed, "Sorry" and stomped off to her room. I was fuming and decided to walk the dog and cool off. I stuck my head in her room to tell her what I was doing.
I returned about 20 minutes later, a bit cooler headed but honestly still pretty peeved. I took a deep breath and went to talk with TK. I told her she was allowed to be angry but she needed a different way to express that anger. She went into scared trauma mode and started listing her grievances. This was pretty much a rehash of the night before. I was smart enough to recognize that there was something deeper going on here, but I wasn't in a mental spot to take it on. So I let it slide. At the end she said, "Sometimes I'm just sick and tired of you!" (Thus the hurt feelings mentioned above). I told her I was going to go in the other room for a bit. (Yes, I went to sulk.) I wasn't honestly sure how to address this, and I knew some of it was puberty (that really should be a four letter word!). People often ask me how I know if her "trauma moments" are from trauma or puberty. I've decided it doesn't matter. Fear is fear, no matter what the cause, so I address it as if it's trauma driven. That seems to work for us (most of the time).
Later TK and I went to the bookstore to buy some gifts for a family party. On the way there she apologized for "being mean" and told me she was scared about a lot of little things. None of them are a big deal, but the combo is overwhelming to her tween mind.
We managed to recalibrate and make the rest of the day happy, silly, and relatively peaceful. I love that about us. We are both willing to admit we goofed up and move past it. Honestly some days she does it better than I do. I love seeing that grace in action.
You give your TKs the grace to feel what they feel and not always respond appropriately; give yourself the same grace. Acknowledge ALL your feelings. Recognize they don't control you, but they might just inspire you. Or they may just make you want to pull the covers over your head and cry - and that's okay too. Hang tough, Trauma Mamas.
Sunday, January 24, 2016
The voices in my head
One of the benefits of going through challenges is that you learn, gain perspective, and are, at least in theory, better able to handle the next challenge that arises. Having been in the trauma trenches for 6 years, I've had the chance to gain perspective, but I haven't had the advantage of sitting back, saying, "Well that sucked", examining what I would do differently the next time and moving on to the next challenge. This challenge doesn't really give you that pause, so you find yourself analyzing and adjusting on the fly. Yes, there are definitely times when things are pretty calm, but I admit I don't yet have complete peace in those times. While I'm not walking on eggshells as I did in our earlier trauma phases, I still am highly vigilant because I know the trauma monster is still under the bed, waiting to come out and wreak some havoc.
Inevitably I start to analyze what isn't working - specifically how I've goofed up - when I'm sitting next to my girl after a meltdown, trying to breathe in and impart peace and compassion. I'll get back to this in a minute, but first, as usual, I'll digress.
We had a remarkably good winter break. 19 days is a looooong time to be together with little break, but we had very few and very small trauma monster moments. This was exceptionally remarkable because we had some family drama that could have easily thrown TK into a tizzy. We banged heads a few times, but it was minor and could just as well be attributed to tweendom. Since the break we've had illness, snow days, work days, and basically no down time for mom. This means I have to dig even harder to stay in a place of compassion when TK goes into trauma mode, and inevitably this is the time she will.
Yesterday she was upstairs working on a "special project" for over an hour. She brought it downstairs to present it to me. It was a banner made of individual pages hung on a string. Each page had one letter and it said "Don't let anyone dull your sparkle." Well, that was what it was meant to say. She had the third and fourth letters out of order. She went into full on trauma mode, crumpled and tore it up and threw it out the front door. Then she grabbed a sticker out of a sticker book and put it on my arm, yelling, "Here. Here's your present now!" I dig through my mental inventory and came up with......nothing. I just said, "I am so sorry that didn't work. I appreciate how much time you put into it and I know you're really frustrated." Then I just got quiet and puttered around, picking up things. She went into her room and slammed the door. I will tell you that after 6 years I still never know if I'm supposed to go through that door or not. The rules change every day, it seems. If I go she'll often yell at me to go away. If I don't go she'll often yell through the door, "It would be nice if someone would check on me!"
Later that day she sat next to me and said very softly, "Mom, I don't know why I got so mad. I'm really sorry." All was well.......until........fast forward to 3 AM. TK comes into my room and says she had a nightmare. I jump out of bed to turn her back to her bedroom, and she is ticked. She wants to sleep in my bed. Nope, not happening. I find it nearly impossible to sleep with her restless, nearly adult size body thrashing around in my bed, and I am not willing to sacrifice my sleep right now. I am already running on empty after the break, snow days, etc. I walk her back to her room and she is steaming. I turn on her sound machine and she slaps it off. I sit on the floor and start patting her.
As I'm patting her the voices in my head start analyzing all the things I've done wrong with her. Not self-flagellation, just the realization that certain things didn't necessarily turn out to my favor in the long run.. For example, TK has really never had a babysitter. She had such huge trust issues when she was younger that I just never went anywhere. As she got older, she had a select few people she felt safe with, and I never pushed beyond that comfort zone. A dear friend is getting married this spring and we were discussing her bachelorette party the other day. Last night as I sat on the floor patting this angry tween (who was still huffing and flipping and expressing her displeasure as many ways as possible without words), I realized I couldn't go to the bachelorette party because who would watch TK? Then I wondered if my approach to making her feel safe was really the best answer. Perhaps making her world so small was too limiting. The balance of what she needs in the moment with what I need is ridiculously hard, and I've always chosen her needs. It wasn't totally altruistic, because addressing her needs made our life calmer and our family much happier. But as we venture further down this road, I sometimes wonder how to move out of the place of "TK first". She has a much improved ability to self-regulate, and the challenge now is knowing how far to push her. I utterly believe that pushing your comfort zone is the key to amazing growth, but pushing hers too far has dire consequences. The thought of getting back into full trauma mode is enough to turn my knees to jelly, but I will continue to try to walk that fine line between TK being uncomfortable and TK being dysregulated.
Send me some grace as I grapple with this. Take a minute and let yourself say, "Well, this sucks." Then tell the voices in your head to just hush and give yourself some grace as you think about what didn't work so well. Because the truth, Trauma Mamas, is we are all totally making this up as we go along, and for the most part we do pretty well. Given the beast we are fighting, I'd say pretty well is amazing.
Inevitably I start to analyze what isn't working - specifically how I've goofed up - when I'm sitting next to my girl after a meltdown, trying to breathe in and impart peace and compassion. I'll get back to this in a minute, but first, as usual, I'll digress.
We had a remarkably good winter break. 19 days is a looooong time to be together with little break, but we had very few and very small trauma monster moments. This was exceptionally remarkable because we had some family drama that could have easily thrown TK into a tizzy. We banged heads a few times, but it was minor and could just as well be attributed to tweendom. Since the break we've had illness, snow days, work days, and basically no down time for mom. This means I have to dig even harder to stay in a place of compassion when TK goes into trauma mode, and inevitably this is the time she will.
Yesterday she was upstairs working on a "special project" for over an hour. She brought it downstairs to present it to me. It was a banner made of individual pages hung on a string. Each page had one letter and it said "Don't let anyone dull your sparkle." Well, that was what it was meant to say. She had the third and fourth letters out of order. She went into full on trauma mode, crumpled and tore it up and threw it out the front door. Then she grabbed a sticker out of a sticker book and put it on my arm, yelling, "Here. Here's your present now!" I dig through my mental inventory and came up with......nothing. I just said, "I am so sorry that didn't work. I appreciate how much time you put into it and I know you're really frustrated." Then I just got quiet and puttered around, picking up things. She went into her room and slammed the door. I will tell you that after 6 years I still never know if I'm supposed to go through that door or not. The rules change every day, it seems. If I go she'll often yell at me to go away. If I don't go she'll often yell through the door, "It would be nice if someone would check on me!"
Later that day she sat next to me and said very softly, "Mom, I don't know why I got so mad. I'm really sorry." All was well.......until........fast forward to 3 AM. TK comes into my room and says she had a nightmare. I jump out of bed to turn her back to her bedroom, and she is ticked. She wants to sleep in my bed. Nope, not happening. I find it nearly impossible to sleep with her restless, nearly adult size body thrashing around in my bed, and I am not willing to sacrifice my sleep right now. I am already running on empty after the break, snow days, etc. I walk her back to her room and she is steaming. I turn on her sound machine and she slaps it off. I sit on the floor and start patting her.
As I'm patting her the voices in my head start analyzing all the things I've done wrong with her. Not self-flagellation, just the realization that certain things didn't necessarily turn out to my favor in the long run.. For example, TK has really never had a babysitter. She had such huge trust issues when she was younger that I just never went anywhere. As she got older, she had a select few people she felt safe with, and I never pushed beyond that comfort zone. A dear friend is getting married this spring and we were discussing her bachelorette party the other day. Last night as I sat on the floor patting this angry tween (who was still huffing and flipping and expressing her displeasure as many ways as possible without words), I realized I couldn't go to the bachelorette party because who would watch TK? Then I wondered if my approach to making her feel safe was really the best answer. Perhaps making her world so small was too limiting. The balance of what she needs in the moment with what I need is ridiculously hard, and I've always chosen her needs. It wasn't totally altruistic, because addressing her needs made our life calmer and our family much happier. But as we venture further down this road, I sometimes wonder how to move out of the place of "TK first". She has a much improved ability to self-regulate, and the challenge now is knowing how far to push her. I utterly believe that pushing your comfort zone is the key to amazing growth, but pushing hers too far has dire consequences. The thought of getting back into full trauma mode is enough to turn my knees to jelly, but I will continue to try to walk that fine line between TK being uncomfortable and TK being dysregulated.
Send me some grace as I grapple with this. Take a minute and let yourself say, "Well, this sucks." Then tell the voices in your head to just hush and give yourself some grace as you think about what didn't work so well. Because the truth, Trauma Mamas, is we are all totally making this up as we go along, and for the most part we do pretty well. Given the beast we are fighting, I'd say pretty well is amazing.
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
"It doesn't happen that often"
I've been pondering something that happened today, and I'm not honestly sure how I feel about it, so I may meander in my blogging as I think this through.
To set the stage: TK and I were out with a (new) friend today. After about 2 hours of ice skating/arcade/hanging we headed to Culver's to get some ice cream. As we were all getting ready to leave, my friend said to TK, "It was nice to meet you." TK said nothing. I know she has better manners than this, so I nudged, whispering (she was in my lap) "And....". She looked at me, turned to my friend and said, "Not really." I popped into reactive mom mode and quickly said, "You know that is not the appropriate response. Try again with the right response. 'Nice to meet you too' is sufficient." She muttered it, rather rudely. I called her on it again, and she flung her arm back and her hand hit my face. She may not have been aiming for my face, but she meant to make contact.
I can, once out of the moment, understand it. I embarrassed her in front of someone (new, worse yet), which immediately triggered her trauma brain into thinking "this person will think I'm stupid/bad/not lovable"'; "Mom will think I'm stupid/bad/unlovable"; "I AM stupid/bad/unlovable." Yes, it really does move from something inconsequential to complete rejection that quickly in a TK's brain.
My friend wasn't nearly as appalled as she might have been. She was surprised (I wasn't) to see TK try to hit me. I have had many people be appalled on my behalf. Perhaps I should be more appalled. Internally I am......my brain jumps into the "how dare you disrespect your mom" mode, but I do my best to externally stay out of that reactive place with her. And most people think my lack of of reaction is condoning her behavior. Rest assured, she knows it's not okay. She came to me tonight and apologized (a heartfelt apology) for being rude and hitting me. She tried to downplay it by saying, "I didn't mean to hit you, I just wanted you to stop talking." I called her on that, but gently. "Yes, you did mean to hit me because you were embarrassed and angry. You know that's not okay. We need to find a better way to tell me I'm embarrassing you. Maybe we can come up with a signal you can use." TK agreed to think about it. I'm sure we'll come up with something.
So I'm sitting here wondering why I'm not more appalled when she hits/kicks/is rude. It's not because I think it's okay. It may be partly because compared to what used to happen, this is nothing. It may be because (to give myself credit) I know being appalled doesn't solve anything. Reacting in the moment doesn't solve anything. Expressing how hurt and embarrassed I am in that moment doesn't solve anything.
I remind myself that not reacting to behavior doesn't mean accepting it. TK has reached the point of maturity where she will, without prompting, feel regret and apologize for her loss of control. I DO wish I could wave a magic wand or just yell "You can't DO that!" and it would stop. Sadly that won't work. What works is what has worked so far.....consistent, unfailing love, analyzing the behavior after everyone is calm, discussing new alternatives, and being grateful that we are making progress.
I had a friend tell me I was just making excuses for TK by saying it didn't happen that often. I told her that statement was more for me than anyone else. I remember the time when massive meltdowns with things being thrown (at me and in general), hitting, screaming, and slamming doors happened multiple times in a day. The fact that TK has much more control over her emotions and actions is a victory that cannot be understated. It has taken us years of tears, prayers, and brutally hard work to get to this place where "it doesn't happen that often", so I will celebrate that. I will celebrate even more when we get to the place where "that never happens anymore." I believe we will get there.
So grant me the grace of compassion when you see TK lose it. It is a journey, and yes, we have come miles down the healing road. But the journey is long, and there will be setbacks on the way. I expect them, but they often still surprise me. I don't welcome them, but I know we will come out the other side. I promise to grant you the same grace when your TK comes undone. You will see it in my compassionate smile and my nod to you that says, "Hang in there, Trauma Mama, you are doing a great job." Know I am not making judgments about how "I can't believe you're letting your TK get away with that." There are plenty of others who will make those judgments, and many of them will share that with you. Try to extend grace to those who proffer those opinions, knowing they don't understand the healing process for TKs.
Sending you grace for your moments, whether they "don't happen that often" or you're still in the walking on eggshells mode. Try to ignore the folks who tell you you're enabling bad behavior, letting your TK rule the roost, etc. Parenting a TK is a different journey than parenting a non-TK. Trauma healing is truly the journey of a lifetime. There's no map and you will often feel lost, but you keep on going because the destination is beautiful.
To set the stage: TK and I were out with a (new) friend today. After about 2 hours of ice skating/arcade/hanging we headed to Culver's to get some ice cream. As we were all getting ready to leave, my friend said to TK, "It was nice to meet you." TK said nothing. I know she has better manners than this, so I nudged, whispering (she was in my lap) "And....". She looked at me, turned to my friend and said, "Not really." I popped into reactive mom mode and quickly said, "You know that is not the appropriate response. Try again with the right response. 'Nice to meet you too' is sufficient." She muttered it, rather rudely. I called her on it again, and she flung her arm back and her hand hit my face. She may not have been aiming for my face, but she meant to make contact.
I can, once out of the moment, understand it. I embarrassed her in front of someone (new, worse yet), which immediately triggered her trauma brain into thinking "this person will think I'm stupid/bad/not lovable"'; "Mom will think I'm stupid/bad/unlovable"; "I AM stupid/bad/unlovable." Yes, it really does move from something inconsequential to complete rejection that quickly in a TK's brain.
My friend wasn't nearly as appalled as she might have been. She was surprised (I wasn't) to see TK try to hit me. I have had many people be appalled on my behalf. Perhaps I should be more appalled. Internally I am......my brain jumps into the "how dare you disrespect your mom" mode, but I do my best to externally stay out of that reactive place with her. And most people think my lack of of reaction is condoning her behavior. Rest assured, she knows it's not okay. She came to me tonight and apologized (a heartfelt apology) for being rude and hitting me. She tried to downplay it by saying, "I didn't mean to hit you, I just wanted you to stop talking." I called her on that, but gently. "Yes, you did mean to hit me because you were embarrassed and angry. You know that's not okay. We need to find a better way to tell me I'm embarrassing you. Maybe we can come up with a signal you can use." TK agreed to think about it. I'm sure we'll come up with something.
So I'm sitting here wondering why I'm not more appalled when she hits/kicks/is rude. It's not because I think it's okay. It may be partly because compared to what used to happen, this is nothing. It may be because (to give myself credit) I know being appalled doesn't solve anything. Reacting in the moment doesn't solve anything. Expressing how hurt and embarrassed I am in that moment doesn't solve anything.
I remind myself that not reacting to behavior doesn't mean accepting it. TK has reached the point of maturity where she will, without prompting, feel regret and apologize for her loss of control. I DO wish I could wave a magic wand or just yell "You can't DO that!" and it would stop. Sadly that won't work. What works is what has worked so far.....consistent, unfailing love, analyzing the behavior after everyone is calm, discussing new alternatives, and being grateful that we are making progress.
I had a friend tell me I was just making excuses for TK by saying it didn't happen that often. I told her that statement was more for me than anyone else. I remember the time when massive meltdowns with things being thrown (at me and in general), hitting, screaming, and slamming doors happened multiple times in a day. The fact that TK has much more control over her emotions and actions is a victory that cannot be understated. It has taken us years of tears, prayers, and brutally hard work to get to this place where "it doesn't happen that often", so I will celebrate that. I will celebrate even more when we get to the place where "that never happens anymore." I believe we will get there.
So grant me the grace of compassion when you see TK lose it. It is a journey, and yes, we have come miles down the healing road. But the journey is long, and there will be setbacks on the way. I expect them, but they often still surprise me. I don't welcome them, but I know we will come out the other side. I promise to grant you the same grace when your TK comes undone. You will see it in my compassionate smile and my nod to you that says, "Hang in there, Trauma Mama, you are doing a great job." Know I am not making judgments about how "I can't believe you're letting your TK get away with that." There are plenty of others who will make those judgments, and many of them will share that with you. Try to extend grace to those who proffer those opinions, knowing they don't understand the healing process for TKs.
Sending you grace for your moments, whether they "don't happen that often" or you're still in the walking on eggshells mode. Try to ignore the folks who tell you you're enabling bad behavior, letting your TK rule the roost, etc. Parenting a TK is a different journey than parenting a non-TK. Trauma healing is truly the journey of a lifetime. There's no map and you will often feel lost, but you keep on going because the destination is beautiful.
Friday, November 27, 2015
The view from the outside
We were hanging out with some of our nearest and dearest on Thanksgiving, and the meal was followed by a no holds barred, rules out the window, laugh til you puke basketball game. TK and I were on separate teams. At one point I (foolishly) guarded her and she tripped over my foot. She wiped out, got up, kicked me in the shin, I apologized that she fell, and the game went on. As we drove home later, TK apologized for kicking me. I truly gave it no further thought.
The next day one of my nearest and dearest called to say there was some concern among our other nearest and dearest who saw TK kick me. I honestly had to think for a minute to remember if she had kicked me. You're probably thinking I totally blew it off and "shouldn't ignore that kind of behavior." But the reality is we have mastered moving past the crud. She apologized, we talked about what she could do differently the next time she felt like kicking me, and it was done. I truly put it behind me. That is a gift I have learned. If I kept all the bad stuff before me I would live with constant anger and annoyance and get stuck. I am so grateful I have learned how to let go.
The phone call was a great reminder to me.....a reminder that I can still provide insight and education into things that I take for granted. So let me enlighten what caused TK's behavior.
TK dearly loves the people that were playing and watching the game. When she tripped, her very black and white trauma thinking kicked into overdrive, knowing with absolute certainty that whomever saw her fall would: - think she was no good at basketball; - think she was clumsy; - think she was stupid; - think she was unlovable. That fear of rejection overwhelmed her and she lashed out.
You wonder how it went from a skinned knee to absolute rejection in under 2 seconds? Me too, but I have accepted that I will never understand why the trauma brain thinks what it thinks, I just accept that it does. I know the physiology and technical explanations, but in truth it makes no sense. It just is.
Luckily TK seldom feels that overwhelmed anymore. It is more likely to happen in high value emotional situations (like that with your "friend family", who could reject you because they chose to take you into their circle, so they can choose to kick you out).
I am so grateful for the gift of those nearest and dearest who were worried enough to reach out and make sure we were okay. While I admit my alarm bells go off at first (because honestly, no matter how much I deny it, I still freak when TK's trauma rears its head in front of others), the love and desire to understand that comes from the people who love us is a precious gift.
Hold on tight to the grace of the people who love you, especially when they love you in spite of the trauma crud. Remember that questions often come from a desire to understand and not from a desire to judge. Grab the grace of hearing your TK apologize when she blows it, and extend the grace of doing the same.
Remember that the "outside" view is one snippet of your long challenge of healing your TK. It a great opportunity to reflect on your progress (go you!) and bring understanding to those who seek it.
Keep on chugging, Trauma Mamas. You might get kicked in the shins sometimes, but that gives you both a chance to seek and grant grace, and practice letting go. Grace and forgiveness - we all need more of both.
The next day one of my nearest and dearest called to say there was some concern among our other nearest and dearest who saw TK kick me. I honestly had to think for a minute to remember if she had kicked me. You're probably thinking I totally blew it off and "shouldn't ignore that kind of behavior." But the reality is we have mastered moving past the crud. She apologized, we talked about what she could do differently the next time she felt like kicking me, and it was done. I truly put it behind me. That is a gift I have learned. If I kept all the bad stuff before me I would live with constant anger and annoyance and get stuck. I am so grateful I have learned how to let go.
The phone call was a great reminder to me.....a reminder that I can still provide insight and education into things that I take for granted. So let me enlighten what caused TK's behavior.
TK dearly loves the people that were playing and watching the game. When she tripped, her very black and white trauma thinking kicked into overdrive, knowing with absolute certainty that whomever saw her fall would: - think she was no good at basketball; - think she was clumsy; - think she was stupid; - think she was unlovable. That fear of rejection overwhelmed her and she lashed out.
You wonder how it went from a skinned knee to absolute rejection in under 2 seconds? Me too, but I have accepted that I will never understand why the trauma brain thinks what it thinks, I just accept that it does. I know the physiology and technical explanations, but in truth it makes no sense. It just is.
Luckily TK seldom feels that overwhelmed anymore. It is more likely to happen in high value emotional situations (like that with your "friend family", who could reject you because they chose to take you into their circle, so they can choose to kick you out).
I am so grateful for the gift of those nearest and dearest who were worried enough to reach out and make sure we were okay. While I admit my alarm bells go off at first (because honestly, no matter how much I deny it, I still freak when TK's trauma rears its head in front of others), the love and desire to understand that comes from the people who love us is a precious gift.
Hold on tight to the grace of the people who love you, especially when they love you in spite of the trauma crud. Remember that questions often come from a desire to understand and not from a desire to judge. Grab the grace of hearing your TK apologize when she blows it, and extend the grace of doing the same.
Remember that the "outside" view is one snippet of your long challenge of healing your TK. It a great opportunity to reflect on your progress (go you!) and bring understanding to those who seek it.
Keep on chugging, Trauma Mamas. You might get kicked in the shins sometimes, but that gives you both a chance to seek and grant grace, and practice letting go. Grace and forgiveness - we all need more of both.
Wednesday, November 25, 2015
The Gifts of Trauma
I know, seems crazy, doesn't it? How can something as destructive as trauma have gifts? How can something that you declare war on and fight seemingly endless battles with have any benefit?
It took me years to recognize any benefit at all to this Trauma existence. And yes, I would much rather my sweet kid NOT be a TK, but since she is, and I am a Trauma Mama, I have to remind myself to look for the progress, the victories, and the gifts on this journey.
The first gifts are to me. I am ridiculously more patient now than I was before I was a trauma mama. I have truly learned what the small stuff is, and it really is most stuff. When you spend years relearning from the most fundamental level how to parent, you realize that so much of what goes on really is small stuff. What's the big stuff? Safety (physical and emotional), forgiveness (known in our house as do-overs), courage, love. That's what changes things. That's what makes this war winnable.
I am also much more compassionate and less judgmental. See a child having a hairy tantrum for no apparent reason? I've been there, and I empathize with that parent and wonder what trauma that poor scared kid has faced/is facing. Watch an adult freak out for no reason? Okay, so that's a bit harder, but I remember the days where I have used up every iota of my energy dealing with TK and find empathy for them. My 10 year old TK crying and sobbing and generally losing it for no apparent reason? I remember there is always a reason (even if it makes no sense to me), so I try to discern it. I blew it big time (again?) I try to give myself compassion and grace and remember that this trauma mama stuff is exhausting and hard.
I now actively look for the signs of progress and try to remember to celebrate them. This forces me to pay more attention to what's going on in our lives, which makes me more present. The other day I was a crabby, tired, trauma mama (utterly independent of TK's stuff), and TK took it in stride, never once raised her voice or slammed her door. That may not sound like much, but that was huge. TK managed to stay regulated when I WASN'T! Normally it takes me being completely regulated (or faking it) to get her to a place of emotional safety, but she stayed there in spite of my dysregulation.
Trauma has given gifts to TK too. She is so compassionate and truly aches for hurting hearts. When she hears about a challenge another child has, you can see her face change and her heart soften. She is drawn to the outsiders, the misunderstood. As TK says, "I know how it feels to have challenges no one sees and have people not like you because of them." When we see someone acting badly, we will often comment, "I wonder what challenges they're facing that we can't see." It's a great reminder to us both. Viewing the world through the lens of compassion changes you - for the better.
Tk is also incredibly courageous. She moves more and more outside her comfort zone, and for a TK, that is a huge deal. She goes into situations now where she doesn't know anyone (like her first basketball practice), without anyone to "keep her safe" and she deals with it. Walking into that sort of situation would have been untenable 1 year ago. I have the gift of seeing that progress.
The biggest gift of trauma is that it makes me a better person. I have had to dig deep and deal with my own trauma, find strength and courage and patience and compassion and forgiveness beyond any I had called on before. So I have grown as much as TK has.
So yes, trauma is a gift. It's not one you want, and the return policy sucks. But in those moments, scant they may be, that you are not head down/nose to the grindstone of day to day trauma living (some days trauma surviving), look up and see the amazing things your TK has achieved, and the amazing things YOU have achieved. Give yourself the grace of knowing this unwanted gift is one of the hardest things you will ever do, and there are times you will fail, but your courage and love always prevail. Being a trauma mama is hard. But hang tough, trauma mamas. Look at the gifts you have and those you are acquiring and know you are enough for your TK.
It took me years to recognize any benefit at all to this Trauma existence. And yes, I would much rather my sweet kid NOT be a TK, but since she is, and I am a Trauma Mama, I have to remind myself to look for the progress, the victories, and the gifts on this journey.
The first gifts are to me. I am ridiculously more patient now than I was before I was a trauma mama. I have truly learned what the small stuff is, and it really is most stuff. When you spend years relearning from the most fundamental level how to parent, you realize that so much of what goes on really is small stuff. What's the big stuff? Safety (physical and emotional), forgiveness (known in our house as do-overs), courage, love. That's what changes things. That's what makes this war winnable.
I am also much more compassionate and less judgmental. See a child having a hairy tantrum for no apparent reason? I've been there, and I empathize with that parent and wonder what trauma that poor scared kid has faced/is facing. Watch an adult freak out for no reason? Okay, so that's a bit harder, but I remember the days where I have used up every iota of my energy dealing with TK and find empathy for them. My 10 year old TK crying and sobbing and generally losing it for no apparent reason? I remember there is always a reason (even if it makes no sense to me), so I try to discern it. I blew it big time (again?) I try to give myself compassion and grace and remember that this trauma mama stuff is exhausting and hard.
I now actively look for the signs of progress and try to remember to celebrate them. This forces me to pay more attention to what's going on in our lives, which makes me more present. The other day I was a crabby, tired, trauma mama (utterly independent of TK's stuff), and TK took it in stride, never once raised her voice or slammed her door. That may not sound like much, but that was huge. TK managed to stay regulated when I WASN'T! Normally it takes me being completely regulated (or faking it) to get her to a place of emotional safety, but she stayed there in spite of my dysregulation.
Trauma has given gifts to TK too. She is so compassionate and truly aches for hurting hearts. When she hears about a challenge another child has, you can see her face change and her heart soften. She is drawn to the outsiders, the misunderstood. As TK says, "I know how it feels to have challenges no one sees and have people not like you because of them." When we see someone acting badly, we will often comment, "I wonder what challenges they're facing that we can't see." It's a great reminder to us both. Viewing the world through the lens of compassion changes you - for the better.
Tk is also incredibly courageous. She moves more and more outside her comfort zone, and for a TK, that is a huge deal. She goes into situations now where she doesn't know anyone (like her first basketball practice), without anyone to "keep her safe" and she deals with it. Walking into that sort of situation would have been untenable 1 year ago. I have the gift of seeing that progress.
The biggest gift of trauma is that it makes me a better person. I have had to dig deep and deal with my own trauma, find strength and courage and patience and compassion and forgiveness beyond any I had called on before. So I have grown as much as TK has.
So yes, trauma is a gift. It's not one you want, and the return policy sucks. But in those moments, scant they may be, that you are not head down/nose to the grindstone of day to day trauma living (some days trauma surviving), look up and see the amazing things your TK has achieved, and the amazing things YOU have achieved. Give yourself the grace of knowing this unwanted gift is one of the hardest things you will ever do, and there are times you will fail, but your courage and love always prevail. Being a trauma mama is hard. But hang tough, trauma mamas. Look at the gifts you have and those you are acquiring and know you are enough for your TK.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)