Oy. There are not words to describe our first three weeks of middle school, but I will, of course, write a whole slew of them anyway.
The first week of middle school was great. Trauma Kid (TK) loved the bus, loved her teachers, was happy and calm.
The second week of middle school......weeeeeeeeelllllll, not so much. She came home Mon screaming that a girl was calling her names. She was slamming doors, throwing things, sobbing for hours on her bed, screaming Everyone hates me! I hate this stupid school! ......basically reverting back to trauma behavior I haven't seen in years. Tues afternoon was pretty much a carbon copy of Monday. Wednesday about 1/2 hour before the bus arrived I got a call from a school administrator (heretofor noted as SA) wanting to discuss some "incidences" with TK - that basically involved TK screaming at other girls on the bus and in the hall. She also picked up something another child dropped at lunch and put it in her lunchbox. I flipped when SA told me that - that 's a new behavior. (Her counselor, when I told her, said, "Well, TK does gets handsy when she's nervous.")
We had to cut the conversation short as TK was walking in the door.
Wednesday TK came into the house in full-on trauma mode She ran to her room, kicking a few cats along the way and threw herself on her bed, weeping hysterically. Having been caught short by SA myself, I jumped on the catastrophe train. In my head I was already looking at home school options, trying to figure out if she could handle going back to her old school and being the only girl there, trying to find a different small school.......I had already given up. Trauma Mom epic fail. At least I did this all internally and didn't voice it to TK.
I sat next to her as she sobbed, my brain in full on panic mode, but externally calm. When she finally calmed a little, she said that SA hated her. I told her I expected SA had the role of being the bad cop, and I wondered if that was a hard job. TK admitted it might be. She thought for a while and said maybe SA didn't hate her. I was wise enough to stay quiet and let her work it out. I was still about 70% sure we were going to have to run away. TK finally calmed down enough to go to volleyball practice. Suffice to say I didn't even mention homework! That evening I emailed SA to let her know TK thought she hated her and it would be good if she had time to seek out TK and try to start anew. I told TK the same thing.
To my surprise and delight, SA emailed me Thurs AM to tell that TK had indeed walked into SA's office before school started and asked if they could walk and talk sometime that day. (I had told SA that TK regulates through movement, so walking and talking would probably be a better option than sitting across the table.) They did indeed walk and talk. More on that in a minute.
Thurs AM I had a conversation with a sweet friend who called me on my own trauma response. He challenged my reaction, and pointed out that I was operating from fear just as TK was. I realized that when threatened (real or imagined threat), TK goes into fight mode; I go into flight mode. My friend challenged me to view the situation with the school/my upcoming meeting with SA not as a battle (which I very much was) but as an opportunity. He was dead on. I mulled on that quite a bit and was able to shift my mindset before my meeting with SA. It was a very good meeting. She seemed to understand trauma, at least somewhat, and took a lot of notes about what behaviors are "warning signs", how to deal with a trauma outbreak, and, most importantly, the need for "safe" people. I was hopeful when I left.
TK came home Thursday and said, "SA really DOESN'T hate me. She just has to be the bad guy. We walked around the school and talked. Her office is right by my locker and I can go there anytime I need to breathe/take a break. She also told my teachers I was allowed to leave the room to take a short walk if I needed to. I think she's a good safe person. I also met the guidance counselors and they are good safe people too." I can't even tell you how big my sigh of relief was.
SA also changed TK's schedule so she has study focus (basically study hall) for her last period. That replaced Spanish, which takes one more academic stress off and gives her time to work on her homework. It's with her favorite teacher, so bonus points.
Things have been much calmer this week. Homework remains a challenge. The dysgraphia and the trauma combined make mental organization a challenge for her, but she is very resistant to my "help" when it comes to organizing her homework schedule. I am walking a fine line between letting her fail and making sure she doesn't feel like a failure.
There was some girl drama this week with a friend who told TK to "go away, I'm mad at you." TK was upset but rather than blow up at the girl she went to the guidance counselor and talked about it. She was still upset but in control. I was blown away - she surprises me sometimes with her maturity. I told her how impressed I was by that. I think that could only happen because she has safe people at school now, for which I am beyond grateful.
I got a bit less hopeful when I talked with one of the counseling staff about meeting with TK's teachers to share information about her trauma stuff, and she responded, "I talked to her teachers and she's doing great in all her classes. I don't think we need a meeting. If something happens we'll certainly react to it." I was so stunned I let it slide.....for now. I'll approach it again in a bit.
The majority of TK's teachers are amazing, willing to work with her and ensure her success. There's one who is a little challenging, but TK and I agree that having just one is pretty good!
I am exhausted, but awash in grace..... the grace of a friend who loves me enough to challenge me to change my thinking, the grace of a courageous 11 year old who is rising above her fear, the grace of an SA who is taking time to work with one of the thousand kids at her school.
Take heart, trauma mamas. I hope you have someone to challenge you when you devolve into fear. Remember that even in your worst moments, you are healing your child and your family. And that, dear trauma mamas, is an amazing grace.
Thursday, August 25, 2016
Wednesday, July 13, 2016
It will be worth it in the long run, it will be worth it in the long run, it will be worth it.......
Soooooo, Trauma Kid (TK) took her big trip to Grandmom's to hang without Mom for a week - or so was the plan. In truth I had no expectation it would last that long, and I was correct. I'll get back to that.
I've had many people ask me in the last two weeks what the big deal was. Kids go stay with their grandparents all the time. Surely my mom would keep her safe. Yes, she absolutely would go the mat to keep TK physically safe. The challenge is that "safe" is so much more to TK than just physical safety. That is a part of it, but not the biggest part. "Safe" also means knowing someone "gets" her; recognizes when she is feeling overwhelmed and can intervene to help. "Safe" means knowing, incontrovertibly, that she will still be loved if she does come undone. "Safe" means, quite honestly, knowing that she will be the most important thing for at least some part of the time she is with you. I've seen an evolution in how she deals with not feeling safe, and I'm not sure it's a good one. She will now hide that she feels unsafe from everyone except me.....something for us to work on.
So TK and Grandmom hopped on a plane on Monday, and I was to drive down 8 days later. The first two days were a little rough but Grandmom kept her really busy, and we skyped (for 2 hours) every night. The third night she got weepy but hung tough. The fourth night (Thursday), she sobbed the entire time we skyped. I had pretty much planned to head down on Saturday anyway (having a pretty realistic view of TK's ability to stretch her comfort zone). I figured Sat would be a few days past where she was comfortable and pushing past that, but just far enough, was the key. (It's totally a crap shoot on this walking the line deal, and I'm always just making my best guess.)
I made it down there Sat evening, and got the best greeting I've received from TK since she was 5 - flying across the parking lot to me, jumping in my arms. She was velcro girl.....nearly desperate in her need for me. Thus the "it will pay off in the long run" title. Her need for me was smothering (and still is). I expected it, but the intensity surprised even me.
Our dog got totally flipped out by the daily barrage of fireworks and had a nervous breakdown - all over the floor, rug upstairs, etc. So we cut our trip short and headed home on Tuesday. Since we've been home TK has been quite needy, though it has abated a small bit.
I'm trusting that this will pay off. I know stretching your comfort zone expands it, and sometimes even baby steps are huge. The aftermath of this is exhausting for me, though, as she regains her sense of security and safety. In spite of lots of advice from non-TK parents, I won't tell her "to just get over it", or enforce space between us (physical or emotional), or refuse to "baby her" by holding her hand until she falls asleep. I will continue to explain trauma, and explain that when your TK regresses, you meet them where they are until they feel safe enough to come back to now. Those regression moments are far fewer than they used to be, and usually occur at bedtime - a time fraught with challenge for most TKs.
On a sidebar, I've seen some things that are definite bright spots. TK is in drama camp right now, and has instantly reconnected with friends from last year. I am always surprised and heartened by her ability to connect, and it bodes well for middle school (the stuff of nightmares!). We saw a sign of children available for local adoption, and TK commented that we should look into that. We had a long talk about how that would change our family, and agreed to continue the conversation. I have always wanted to adopt more kids, but TK's challenges and needs outweighed the needs of another child waiting for a parent. I don't know how this will play out, but I love that she has room in her heart to even contemplate it.
I'm struggling for grace, Trauma Mamas, so toss some my way. I am mentally and physically exhausted from the travel, the drama, (cleaning up behind the dog's nervous breakdown!), and TK's overwhelming need for me. I am in that weird headspace where you wonder if you've made the right decisions regarding your TK, second-guess old decisions and play "what if". But I know that is fruitless and the focus needs to return to moving forward. It will.
Sending you all grace for celebrating baby steps, expanding comfort zones, and ignoring the voices of those "helpful" folks who don't get your TKs. Stay strong, Trauma Mamas. You've got this!
I've had many people ask me in the last two weeks what the big deal was. Kids go stay with their grandparents all the time. Surely my mom would keep her safe. Yes, she absolutely would go the mat to keep TK physically safe. The challenge is that "safe" is so much more to TK than just physical safety. That is a part of it, but not the biggest part. "Safe" also means knowing someone "gets" her; recognizes when she is feeling overwhelmed and can intervene to help. "Safe" means knowing, incontrovertibly, that she will still be loved if she does come undone. "Safe" means, quite honestly, knowing that she will be the most important thing for at least some part of the time she is with you. I've seen an evolution in how she deals with not feeling safe, and I'm not sure it's a good one. She will now hide that she feels unsafe from everyone except me.....something for us to work on.
So TK and Grandmom hopped on a plane on Monday, and I was to drive down 8 days later. The first two days were a little rough but Grandmom kept her really busy, and we skyped (for 2 hours) every night. The third night she got weepy but hung tough. The fourth night (Thursday), she sobbed the entire time we skyped. I had pretty much planned to head down on Saturday anyway (having a pretty realistic view of TK's ability to stretch her comfort zone). I figured Sat would be a few days past where she was comfortable and pushing past that, but just far enough, was the key. (It's totally a crap shoot on this walking the line deal, and I'm always just making my best guess.)
I made it down there Sat evening, and got the best greeting I've received from TK since she was 5 - flying across the parking lot to me, jumping in my arms. She was velcro girl.....nearly desperate in her need for me. Thus the "it will pay off in the long run" title. Her need for me was smothering (and still is). I expected it, but the intensity surprised even me.
Our dog got totally flipped out by the daily barrage of fireworks and had a nervous breakdown - all over the floor, rug upstairs, etc. So we cut our trip short and headed home on Tuesday. Since we've been home TK has been quite needy, though it has abated a small bit.
I'm trusting that this will pay off. I know stretching your comfort zone expands it, and sometimes even baby steps are huge. The aftermath of this is exhausting for me, though, as she regains her sense of security and safety. In spite of lots of advice from non-TK parents, I won't tell her "to just get over it", or enforce space between us (physical or emotional), or refuse to "baby her" by holding her hand until she falls asleep. I will continue to explain trauma, and explain that when your TK regresses, you meet them where they are until they feel safe enough to come back to now. Those regression moments are far fewer than they used to be, and usually occur at bedtime - a time fraught with challenge for most TKs.
On a sidebar, I've seen some things that are definite bright spots. TK is in drama camp right now, and has instantly reconnected with friends from last year. I am always surprised and heartened by her ability to connect, and it bodes well for middle school (the stuff of nightmares!). We saw a sign of children available for local adoption, and TK commented that we should look into that. We had a long talk about how that would change our family, and agreed to continue the conversation. I have always wanted to adopt more kids, but TK's challenges and needs outweighed the needs of another child waiting for a parent. I don't know how this will play out, but I love that she has room in her heart to even contemplate it.
I'm struggling for grace, Trauma Mamas, so toss some my way. I am mentally and physically exhausted from the travel, the drama, (cleaning up behind the dog's nervous breakdown!), and TK's overwhelming need for me. I am in that weird headspace where you wonder if you've made the right decisions regarding your TK, second-guess old decisions and play "what if". But I know that is fruitless and the focus needs to return to moving forward. It will.
Sending you all grace for celebrating baby steps, expanding comfort zones, and ignoring the voices of those "helpful" folks who don't get your TKs. Stay strong, Trauma Mamas. You've got this!
Thursday, June 23, 2016
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered
Well, maybe not the first one so much, but definitely the last two.....
Over the last two weeks, I've had a few people - some who know Trauma Kid (TK) well, some who don't - tell me she seems anxious, short-tempered, hateful, rude, needy. The bothersome part of this is that I'm a bit surprised by it, so I've been mulling on that tonight. Have I become so inured to trauma behavior that it doesn't impact me anymore? I don't think so. I think, however, my expectations adjust in the summer. And the reality is I see the behaviors that get those labels differently, and I forget that not everyone else does. We are blessed with friends who have become our family, and I forget that they have not been on this journey with us long enough to fully recognize or interpret trauma behaviors. I forget that because they are so accepting of us, and I fail to realize they are surprised by trauma behaviors. Others have commented on TK's "antsiness", etc. I consider all those inputs, feel like a failure for a time, get defensive, then simmer down and realize there is yet another opportunity for education, and a chance for me to examine my own perceptions about what is "normal" (within the scope of trauma) and adjust if needed.
Summer is notoriously difficult for trauma kids. The lack of structure/predictability/bounded social interaction leaves them adrift, needing something they can't pinpoint, knowing they are "without", yet not knowing how to fill that emptiness. As a trauma mama, I can tell you that emptiness is filled largely by us. There is a clinginess and neediness in TK that I haven't seen in a while, which is at war with the tween need for alone time and independence. I see that struggle play out daily, and it is exhausting.
So what is it that people are seeing that brings to mind terms like the ones above? And, far more importantly, what is driving the behaviors they are seeing? If you've been following my blog for a time, you already know the answer to that second question - fear. But fear of what?
Some of it is that our new "family" is just that - new. TK doesn't know how to operate in those auspices. Our family has pretty much always just been the two of us, so having lots of other people means the scarcity mentality kicks in. If you love them/pay attention to them, there is less for me. I see that often driving behaviors that others deem bratty or rude. And yes, those behaviors are exactly that - bratty and rude. Yet I recognize they come from a place of fear of rejection, so I am more accepting of them. I admit at times I am probably TOO accepting of them, choosing not to correct them in that moment, but discuss them later when we can collectively be calm and regulated. And sometimes I decide it was a temporary reaction that settled quickly and I don't address it at all. Should I? Maybe. But I live in the "we have come so far from where we were when every day was a nightmare" that I look through the lens of gratitude that we're not still there, when I probably should look through the lens of what growth still needs to occur.
This is a challenge for me. I promised when I started the blog I would lay out the truth - ugly or not. So here is the ugly truth. I get my feelings hurt (ridiculously, out of proportion hurt) and panic when people comment negatively on TK. I immediately go into my own trauma space and deem my mothering skills a failure, certain everyone is listing my shortcomings. That's my own trauma junk and has nothing to do with TK's, but it has everything to do with it at the same time. I tend to withdraw, hunker down, and hide us until I feel like we have the latest trauma episode under control, because I don't want to subject her (and really, me) to that criticism/judgment (even though my rational brain knows it's more concern than criticism). Interestingly (perversely?), this is when TK wants to go full out into the world. I, envisioning the trauma equivalent of Godzilla smashing Tokyo, do my best to control that desire.
I know that isn't the right way to do it, because as my dear friend reminds me, "it takes a village and now you and TK have one." But in my head we really don't have a village/I don't fully trust the village - or how I interact in the village. Because all our previous villages tarred and feathered us when the going got tough. Because at the end of the day, it's TK and me. I'm the one who "gets it"; I'm the "safe place"; I'm the one who is the shield and protector. I'm the one who has poured the prayers and endless tears and energy into this healing, and I am so proud of how far we've come. But it is very easy for me to fall back into fear, just as it is for TK. For me the fear is also of rejection, but it more overwhelmingly the fear of going backward. When those who haven't been on this whole journey with us see us go backward, they panic. And depending where I am in my own trauma headspace, sometimes I jump on the panic train. I shouldn't care if we got backward, because the truth is we do go backward sometimes.....trauma healing is not linear. In spite of that, when I step back and look at the whole journey, there has been tremendous growth and healing.
On a total sidebar - TK is going to visit my mom for a while.....without me! This was her idea and she is excited, but increasingly nervous as the date gets nearer. Just her willingness to contemplate this is a tremendous step - and not something that would have occurred even 6 months ago. I suspect there will only be a few days before she asks me to join her, but that's okay. Her feeling confident/safe enough in her own ability to regulate without me nearby (because I'll be a 10 hour car drive away) is HUGE.
So I'll give myself the grace of being proud of TK for her willingness to challenge herself. I'll also try to give myself grace for not being brave enough to totally trust our village, knowing there will be many more opportunities to grow that trust as we continue on our trauma journey.
Give yourselves grace when you need to hunker. Remember you're on the trauma journey too, so be gentle with yourselves, Trauma Mamas. Progress isn't a straight line. Accept (or try to) the concerns of those who support you for just that - concerns, a need to learn more, a desire to understand, and don't paint it as criticism or judgment (yep, I'm talking to myself here too). You are amazing, Trauma Mamas. Hold onto that when the fear comes creeping in. Love wins. Love. Wins.
Over the last two weeks, I've had a few people - some who know Trauma Kid (TK) well, some who don't - tell me she seems anxious, short-tempered, hateful, rude, needy. The bothersome part of this is that I'm a bit surprised by it, so I've been mulling on that tonight. Have I become so inured to trauma behavior that it doesn't impact me anymore? I don't think so. I think, however, my expectations adjust in the summer. And the reality is I see the behaviors that get those labels differently, and I forget that not everyone else does. We are blessed with friends who have become our family, and I forget that they have not been on this journey with us long enough to fully recognize or interpret trauma behaviors. I forget that because they are so accepting of us, and I fail to realize they are surprised by trauma behaviors. Others have commented on TK's "antsiness", etc. I consider all those inputs, feel like a failure for a time, get defensive, then simmer down and realize there is yet another opportunity for education, and a chance for me to examine my own perceptions about what is "normal" (within the scope of trauma) and adjust if needed.
Summer is notoriously difficult for trauma kids. The lack of structure/predictability/bounded social interaction leaves them adrift, needing something they can't pinpoint, knowing they are "without", yet not knowing how to fill that emptiness. As a trauma mama, I can tell you that emptiness is filled largely by us. There is a clinginess and neediness in TK that I haven't seen in a while, which is at war with the tween need for alone time and independence. I see that struggle play out daily, and it is exhausting.
So what is it that people are seeing that brings to mind terms like the ones above? And, far more importantly, what is driving the behaviors they are seeing? If you've been following my blog for a time, you already know the answer to that second question - fear. But fear of what?
Some of it is that our new "family" is just that - new. TK doesn't know how to operate in those auspices. Our family has pretty much always just been the two of us, so having lots of other people means the scarcity mentality kicks in. If you love them/pay attention to them, there is less for me. I see that often driving behaviors that others deem bratty or rude. And yes, those behaviors are exactly that - bratty and rude. Yet I recognize they come from a place of fear of rejection, so I am more accepting of them. I admit at times I am probably TOO accepting of them, choosing not to correct them in that moment, but discuss them later when we can collectively be calm and regulated. And sometimes I decide it was a temporary reaction that settled quickly and I don't address it at all. Should I? Maybe. But I live in the "we have come so far from where we were when every day was a nightmare" that I look through the lens of gratitude that we're not still there, when I probably should look through the lens of what growth still needs to occur.
This is a challenge for me. I promised when I started the blog I would lay out the truth - ugly or not. So here is the ugly truth. I get my feelings hurt (ridiculously, out of proportion hurt) and panic when people comment negatively on TK. I immediately go into my own trauma space and deem my mothering skills a failure, certain everyone is listing my shortcomings. That's my own trauma junk and has nothing to do with TK's, but it has everything to do with it at the same time. I tend to withdraw, hunker down, and hide us until I feel like we have the latest trauma episode under control, because I don't want to subject her (and really, me) to that criticism/judgment (even though my rational brain knows it's more concern than criticism). Interestingly (perversely?), this is when TK wants to go full out into the world. I, envisioning the trauma equivalent of Godzilla smashing Tokyo, do my best to control that desire.
I know that isn't the right way to do it, because as my dear friend reminds me, "it takes a village and now you and TK have one." But in my head we really don't have a village/I don't fully trust the village - or how I interact in the village. Because all our previous villages tarred and feathered us when the going got tough. Because at the end of the day, it's TK and me. I'm the one who "gets it"; I'm the "safe place"; I'm the one who is the shield and protector. I'm the one who has poured the prayers and endless tears and energy into this healing, and I am so proud of how far we've come. But it is very easy for me to fall back into fear, just as it is for TK. For me the fear is also of rejection, but it more overwhelmingly the fear of going backward. When those who haven't been on this whole journey with us see us go backward, they panic. And depending where I am in my own trauma headspace, sometimes I jump on the panic train. I shouldn't care if we got backward, because the truth is we do go backward sometimes.....trauma healing is not linear. In spite of that, when I step back and look at the whole journey, there has been tremendous growth and healing.
On a total sidebar - TK is going to visit my mom for a while.....without me! This was her idea and she is excited, but increasingly nervous as the date gets nearer. Just her willingness to contemplate this is a tremendous step - and not something that would have occurred even 6 months ago. I suspect there will only be a few days before she asks me to join her, but that's okay. Her feeling confident/safe enough in her own ability to regulate without me nearby (because I'll be a 10 hour car drive away) is HUGE.
So I'll give myself the grace of being proud of TK for her willingness to challenge herself. I'll also try to give myself grace for not being brave enough to totally trust our village, knowing there will be many more opportunities to grow that trust as we continue on our trauma journey.
Give yourselves grace when you need to hunker. Remember you're on the trauma journey too, so be gentle with yourselves, Trauma Mamas. Progress isn't a straight line. Accept (or try to) the concerns of those who support you for just that - concerns, a need to learn more, a desire to understand, and don't paint it as criticism or judgment (yep, I'm talking to myself here too). You are amazing, Trauma Mamas. Hold onto that when the fear comes creeping in. Love wins. Love. Wins.
Thursday, May 19, 2016
The Growth is in the Struggle
Heather Forbes says, "the growth is in the struggle." We definitely had an opportunity for growth last night.
Trauma Kid (TK) went to middle school volleyball tryouts, nervous but (over)confident in her abilities. I dropped her off, probably more nervous than she was. I picked her up 90 minutes later. As she walked toward the car she shook her head no. She looked like a thundercloud. I have learned not to ask questions when she looks like that, so I said nothing. A few minutes into the car ride she told me she'd tripped and landed hard on her bum and it hurt so much that she couldn't hustle, so she didn't think she'd made it.
The list was posted 90 minutes later, so we drove back to the middle school to check out the results. I stayed in the car as TK looked. She came back looking mad and upset, so I knew immediately. She didn't say anything on the way home. I just said, "I'm so sorry. I know it hurts. But you need to know that no one will be disappointed in you." When we got home she slammed the car door, the door into the house, and the door to her room. I heard her in there hitting the wall and venting her anger, so I waited that part out. When I heard her start sobbing I knocked and asked if I could come in. She said no so I told her I'd be sitting in the hall by her door until she was ready for me to come in. A few minutes later she told me to come in. I sat by her bed and said nothing. She ranted for a few minutes, then sobbed some more. I asked her if I could hug her and she said no. My heart broke for her and I shed many tears of my own as she sobbed. After a few minutes she reached out for my hand.
I waited to see what would happen. I knew this was a heartbreak for her, and I wasn't sure if she had the skills to cope with that level of rejection. This was a serious "growing in the struggle" moment.
After about 30 minutes she was pretty calm. I asked her if she still wanted to go to public middle school now that she hadn't made the team. She said she did. She asked if she could sleep in my bed because she was so sad and wanted to be close to me.
This morning she said, "I'm okay, Mom. I'm still sad and disappointed, but I'm okay." That was a momentous moment in our trauma journey. TK had weathered a huge rejection and come out the other side - quickly and resolutely. It was more than I expected, and I can't even express my pride and relief.
Later I asked her why she didn't want me to hug her when she was so sad. She said, "Mom, when I'm that upset it's like every part of me is super-sensitive, so having you hug me is just more pressure that I can't handle." I knew she meant physical pressure, so I get it. I hate it, but I get it. When I'm a sobbing mess I just want to fall in someone's arms and let them comfort me. But TK isn't me, and I have to respect her needs, even when it goes against every cell in my body.
This is one of those rare blessed moments when I can really see all the work, tears, prayers and re-dos working. TK has amazing presence and is starting to gain resilience. Talk about grace......I was awash in it today as I watched her TRULY be okay.
Andra Day has this amazing song called "Rise Up." I swear it is the anthem for Trauma Mamas (and Trauma Daddies and Trauma Caregivers). I'll put the lyrics below if you want to read them, and I'll post the YouTube link in an immediate follow on post. Whether you do or not, have faith, Trauma Mamas. Your TK can gain resilience and learn to weather rejection without falling into despair. If my TK can do it, yours can get there too.
Sending you grace for the journey. You will undoubtedly have to rise up a thousand times again, but you are strong. When you feel like you can't rise up one more time, I will send you strength and grace until you find your own.
ANDRA DAY - RISE UP
You're broken down and tired of living life on a merry-go-round
And you can't find the fighter
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out and move mountains
We gonna walk it out and move mountains
And I'll rise up, I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up, I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again
And I'll rise up, high like the waves
I'll rise up, in spite of the ache
I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again
For you
When the silence isn't quiet and it feels like it's getting hard to breathe
And I know you feel like dying
But I promise we'll take the world to its feet and move mountains
Bring it to its feet and move mountains
And I'll rise up, I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up, I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again
For you
All we need, all we need is hope
And for that we have each other, and for that we have each other
We will rise, we will rise, we'll rise, we'll rise
I'll rise up, rise like the day
I'll rise up, in spite of the ache
I will rise a thousand times again
And we'll rise up, high like the waves
We'll rise up, in spite of the ache
We'll rise up, and we'll do it a thousand times again
For you
Trauma Kid (TK) went to middle school volleyball tryouts, nervous but (over)confident in her abilities. I dropped her off, probably more nervous than she was. I picked her up 90 minutes later. As she walked toward the car she shook her head no. She looked like a thundercloud. I have learned not to ask questions when she looks like that, so I said nothing. A few minutes into the car ride she told me she'd tripped and landed hard on her bum and it hurt so much that she couldn't hustle, so she didn't think she'd made it.
The list was posted 90 minutes later, so we drove back to the middle school to check out the results. I stayed in the car as TK looked. She came back looking mad and upset, so I knew immediately. She didn't say anything on the way home. I just said, "I'm so sorry. I know it hurts. But you need to know that no one will be disappointed in you." When we got home she slammed the car door, the door into the house, and the door to her room. I heard her in there hitting the wall and venting her anger, so I waited that part out. When I heard her start sobbing I knocked and asked if I could come in. She said no so I told her I'd be sitting in the hall by her door until she was ready for me to come in. A few minutes later she told me to come in. I sat by her bed and said nothing. She ranted for a few minutes, then sobbed some more. I asked her if I could hug her and she said no. My heart broke for her and I shed many tears of my own as she sobbed. After a few minutes she reached out for my hand.
I waited to see what would happen. I knew this was a heartbreak for her, and I wasn't sure if she had the skills to cope with that level of rejection. This was a serious "growing in the struggle" moment.
After about 30 minutes she was pretty calm. I asked her if she still wanted to go to public middle school now that she hadn't made the team. She said she did. She asked if she could sleep in my bed because she was so sad and wanted to be close to me.
This morning she said, "I'm okay, Mom. I'm still sad and disappointed, but I'm okay." That was a momentous moment in our trauma journey. TK had weathered a huge rejection and come out the other side - quickly and resolutely. It was more than I expected, and I can't even express my pride and relief.
Later I asked her why she didn't want me to hug her when she was so sad. She said, "Mom, when I'm that upset it's like every part of me is super-sensitive, so having you hug me is just more pressure that I can't handle." I knew she meant physical pressure, so I get it. I hate it, but I get it. When I'm a sobbing mess I just want to fall in someone's arms and let them comfort me. But TK isn't me, and I have to respect her needs, even when it goes against every cell in my body.
This is one of those rare blessed moments when I can really see all the work, tears, prayers and re-dos working. TK has amazing presence and is starting to gain resilience. Talk about grace......I was awash in it today as I watched her TRULY be okay.
Andra Day has this amazing song called "Rise Up." I swear it is the anthem for Trauma Mamas (and Trauma Daddies and Trauma Caregivers). I'll put the lyrics below if you want to read them, and I'll post the YouTube link in an immediate follow on post. Whether you do or not, have faith, Trauma Mamas. Your TK can gain resilience and learn to weather rejection without falling into despair. If my TK can do it, yours can get there too.
Sending you grace for the journey. You will undoubtedly have to rise up a thousand times again, but you are strong. When you feel like you can't rise up one more time, I will send you strength and grace until you find your own.
ANDRA DAY - RISE UP
You're broken down and tired of living life on a merry-go-round
And you can't find the fighter
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out and move mountains
We gonna walk it out and move mountains
And I'll rise up, I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up, I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again
And I'll rise up, high like the waves
I'll rise up, in spite of the ache
I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again
For you
When the silence isn't quiet and it feels like it's getting hard to breathe
And I know you feel like dying
But I promise we'll take the world to its feet and move mountains
Bring it to its feet and move mountains
And I'll rise up, I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up, I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again
For you
All we need, all we need is hope
And for that we have each other, and for that we have each other
We will rise, we will rise, we'll rise, we'll rise
I'll rise up, rise like the day
I'll rise up, in spite of the ache
I will rise a thousand times again
And we'll rise up, high like the waves
We'll rise up, in spite of the ache
We'll rise up, and we'll do it a thousand times again
For you
Monday, May 16, 2016
No buts allowed
I'll preface by saying I am in the midst of a hellacious bout of shingles, so I'm not as patient as usual, and my stress window is definitely smaller than normal.
TK (Trauma Kid) was at volleyball camp last Thursday and a friend mentioned middle school volleyball tryouts were next week (now this week). TK LOVES volleyball. She has declared it her "thing". I think she's pretty good for a novice, but I'm a former lacrosse player so I may not be the best judge. When TK told me about tryouts, I knew the conversation that was about to ensue. Sure enough, on the ride home, TK said she wants to go to public middle school next year and try out for the volleyball team.
I tried to push down my immediate fear response, and managed to -- somewhat. I told her there will be challenges -- like the inability to regulate through movement during the day, dealing with her dysgraphia, and the "girl drama" that is inevitable in middle school. She told me she needs a social circle -- her current school is quite small and her entire class (3rd-6th grade) is 16 kids, and only 3 are girls. Our neighborhood is awash in boys as well. So her female social circle is her volleyball team (and the season just ended) and me. I get that she needs a bigger social circle, but the fear of returning to anything remotely like it was before overwhelmed me. I remember too well how fractured our family was, how trauma ruled our lives, how exhausting and isolating it was. But that was then, and I have to find the same courage TK has to let go of then and trust that we are in a place of trust and strength enough for now.
TK told me she'd definitely make the volleyball team, and I said I hoped so. She told me I needed to have more faith in her. I said I had faith in her, but I don't know how good the other kids trying out are. She told me she had matured a lot and was ready for the challenges of public middle school, and I should just believe in her. I said I had faith in her, but we needed to work through some things before I felt okay with this change.
Then TK nailed me. She said, "Mom, why don't you believe in me? You keep telling me you do, then you say you don't. I just need you to support me, and if it falls apart you can help me through it." I had a flashback of my dad, who often said "I'm not telling you what to do, but......" And I clearly remember saying he needed to replace the "but" with a period. So I did. I told TK I believed she was good enough to make the team, and I had faith in her ability to handle public middle school. (Okay, I still said "but......" in my head, but at least my out loud stuff was good!) There was a lot of maturity and strength in her statement about helping her through it if fell apart. It also told me that she knew I would be there to help her through it.
I've spent the last few days stepping back and really watching TK. And I've seem some amazing things. We were at Dear Friend's (my sister from another mister and Soph's declared aunt) wedding the day after TK's birthday, and TK took on the role of getting folks (many of whom she'd never met) to sign the guest book. She did this with grace and calmness and confidence. During the reception I almost never saw her once dinner was over - she was off having fun with the family. This would never have happened a year ago, or probably even 6 months ago. Sometime in the last few months she has grown amazingly in confidence. She has always had amazing courage, but her confidence and self esteem have also come front and center.
We were visiting TK's "sister" the other day, and she told me she saw a tremendous difference from the TK of a year ago. When I stopped and really looked at who TK had become, I could even stop the "buts" in my head. She CAN do this. There will be challenges, and stumbles, and probably even some trauma meltdowns, but she's right -- I'll help her through them and we'll continue to move forward. Don't get me wrong, I am still slightly terrified. What if she doesn't make the volleyball team? Will her confidence and self-esteem plummet? Or am I not giving her enough credit? TBD - I don't know, but I will on Wednesday (when the call-back list is posted) or Friday (when the team rosters are posted). Stay tuned.
But for now, I am taking in the grace at the progress we have made. The journey is not over; trauma will continue to rear up its head and throw challenges at us, but my girl, my TK, has more ability to self-regulate than I thought she would ever have.
It's nearly impossible to see the possibilities when you are in the middle of the trauma journey. But they exist. Your TKs can continue to grow in confidence, self-regulation, and grace. If you can, step back and look at your journey, Trauma Mamas. You will see progress. It may be miniscule, but somewhere there is a change for the better. This journey is not linear, and sometimes you get stuck in one place for what feels like forever. But your undying, unconditional love is moving your TK toward healing. Grab the grace of finding any progress you can, and take the credit for it. This journey is brutal, and you are the warrior who never gives up. Grace to you as you battle on, Trauma Mamas.
TK (Trauma Kid) was at volleyball camp last Thursday and a friend mentioned middle school volleyball tryouts were next week (now this week). TK LOVES volleyball. She has declared it her "thing". I think she's pretty good for a novice, but I'm a former lacrosse player so I may not be the best judge. When TK told me about tryouts, I knew the conversation that was about to ensue. Sure enough, on the ride home, TK said she wants to go to public middle school next year and try out for the volleyball team.
I tried to push down my immediate fear response, and managed to -- somewhat. I told her there will be challenges -- like the inability to regulate through movement during the day, dealing with her dysgraphia, and the "girl drama" that is inevitable in middle school. She told me she needs a social circle -- her current school is quite small and her entire class (3rd-6th grade) is 16 kids, and only 3 are girls. Our neighborhood is awash in boys as well. So her female social circle is her volleyball team (and the season just ended) and me. I get that she needs a bigger social circle, but the fear of returning to anything remotely like it was before overwhelmed me. I remember too well how fractured our family was, how trauma ruled our lives, how exhausting and isolating it was. But that was then, and I have to find the same courage TK has to let go of then and trust that we are in a place of trust and strength enough for now.
TK told me she'd definitely make the volleyball team, and I said I hoped so. She told me I needed to have more faith in her. I said I had faith in her, but I don't know how good the other kids trying out are. She told me she had matured a lot and was ready for the challenges of public middle school, and I should just believe in her. I said I had faith in her, but we needed to work through some things before I felt okay with this change.
Then TK nailed me. She said, "Mom, why don't you believe in me? You keep telling me you do, then you say you don't. I just need you to support me, and if it falls apart you can help me through it." I had a flashback of my dad, who often said "I'm not telling you what to do, but......" And I clearly remember saying he needed to replace the "but" with a period. So I did. I told TK I believed she was good enough to make the team, and I had faith in her ability to handle public middle school. (Okay, I still said "but......" in my head, but at least my out loud stuff was good!) There was a lot of maturity and strength in her statement about helping her through it if fell apart. It also told me that she knew I would be there to help her through it.
I've spent the last few days stepping back and really watching TK. And I've seem some amazing things. We were at Dear Friend's (my sister from another mister and Soph's declared aunt) wedding the day after TK's birthday, and TK took on the role of getting folks (many of whom she'd never met) to sign the guest book. She did this with grace and calmness and confidence. During the reception I almost never saw her once dinner was over - she was off having fun with the family. This would never have happened a year ago, or probably even 6 months ago. Sometime in the last few months she has grown amazingly in confidence. She has always had amazing courage, but her confidence and self esteem have also come front and center.
We were visiting TK's "sister" the other day, and she told me she saw a tremendous difference from the TK of a year ago. When I stopped and really looked at who TK had become, I could even stop the "buts" in my head. She CAN do this. There will be challenges, and stumbles, and probably even some trauma meltdowns, but she's right -- I'll help her through them and we'll continue to move forward. Don't get me wrong, I am still slightly terrified. What if she doesn't make the volleyball team? Will her confidence and self-esteem plummet? Or am I not giving her enough credit? TBD - I don't know, but I will on Wednesday (when the call-back list is posted) or Friday (when the team rosters are posted). Stay tuned.
But for now, I am taking in the grace at the progress we have made. The journey is not over; trauma will continue to rear up its head and throw challenges at us, but my girl, my TK, has more ability to self-regulate than I thought she would ever have.
It's nearly impossible to see the possibilities when you are in the middle of the trauma journey. But they exist. Your TKs can continue to grow in confidence, self-regulation, and grace. If you can, step back and look at your journey, Trauma Mamas. You will see progress. It may be miniscule, but somewhere there is a change for the better. This journey is not linear, and sometimes you get stuck in one place for what feels like forever. But your undying, unconditional love is moving your TK toward healing. Grab the grace of finding any progress you can, and take the credit for it. This journey is brutal, and you are the warrior who never gives up. Grace to you as you battle on, Trauma Mamas.
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
The Adventure that almost was
This past weekend was my Adventure weekend - just me and a bunch of Girl Scout leaders ziplining, tree climbing, doing the high ropes, canoeing, etc. Fri evening through Sunday afternoon- only grownups acting like kids. That was the plan........
Trauma Kid (TK) has been, no surprise, anxious about my trip. We've talked about the plan a lot the last 3 weeks. She was going to stay with our Dear Friend (DF), who is more aunt than friend to her. DF's family had plans to surround TK with love and fun so she would be okay. A few nights before the trip, DF came over for dinner and we 3 discussed the trip and any concerns TK had. TK told DF, "I just don't totally trust you yet." DF didn't react (kudos!) but she and I discussed it later after I talked with TK about it. TK told me what she meant....."Mom, Ms. M (her friend/therapist with whom she stayed last year) couldn't handle it when I had a complete fear breakdown, so how can I expect DF to handle it?" DF has never seen/been part of a full-fledged trauma meltdown. She has seen bits of them and has learned a lot, but she hasn't had to deal head on with the complete fear that overtakes TK sometimes. I told TK she was older, more capable of handling her fears, better able to express her needs, and I had confidence she'd be fine. She did mention multiple times that she wished I weren't going, but she never asked me not to go. Compared to the hours of sobbing and pleading last year, this was huge.
Two days before my trip I ducked into the Walk in clinic and confirmed my fears - I have shingles. Knowing this was just the beginning of it, odds were the pain would increase significantly over the next few days. So I decided to wait and go to the camp early Sat AM. Friday I slept in my own comfy bed, medicated for pain. Early Sat DF came over and I headed out. TK wouldn't give me a kiss but said, "Bye, Mom." I expected this....I was just happy she didn't freak.
Saturday was a much toned down experience from the previous year. Between the shingles pain and the fact that the harness for ziplining and other adventure things would rub right on the blisters, I switched to things like screen printing, tie dying and archery. It was still fun to hang with the friends I made last year, but the pain was definitely hampering my fun a lot. I talked to TK during the day and she was having a blast.
Sat about 9PM my phone rang...it was TK, in tears. 'It's too hard, Mom. I'm too scared without you here. I can't do this." I asked her if she'd told DF how she felt, and she said no, she was embarrassed to be crying like a baby and was afraid DF (and another friend who was spending the night) would think she was dumb. We talked for about 15 minutes and she couldn't get regulated. She wasn't panic-stricken, but she was definitely starting to come unglued a bit. I decided to drive home that night.
Should I have stayed? Maybe. If I had felt better I probably would have pushed it, but honestly I was hurting like crazy and not thrilled about sleeping on an old saggy cot with the "snoring bear" (as my roommates deemed one of our bunkmates) close by. I also knew if I pushed her and stayed that she would be okay, but she would be mad at DF and that might damage their relationship. The relationship with DF and her family (our family now) is precious, and I didn't want TK questioning it. So I bailed. I was only a little resentful (we didn't get to do our bridge bounce, planned for the next AM), but I was okay with taking the easy way out. I think it was best for TK and DF, and possibly for me (though a kid free morning would have been nice!).
So my 3 day adventure turned into 1 less-than-adventure-filled day. As usual, being a trauma mama means being flexible. Perhaps I am too flexible sometimes. Perhaps I should push her further out of her comfort zone sometimes. But this was not the time. I didn't have the physical or emotional energy to deal with the fallout, and I couldn't risk TK's relationship with DF and fam.
Maybe next year I'll get the whole 3 days. A trauma mama can hope!
Give yourselves grace when you take the easy road, Trauma Mamas. There usually isn't one, so don't stress over picking that option when you can. My DF gave me the grace of telling me she trusted whatever decision I made because I knew what was best. You do too,trauma mamas. Trust yourself; trust your gut. Ignore the voices of the world that tell you your TK is "too old to act that way", "manipulating you to get her own way", or "spoiled." Your TK is learning to grow through her fear....that's a tall order. It's exhausting for both of you. So take a deep breath, enjoy the easy road when it appears, and know that you really do know what your TK needs.
Be strong, Trauma Mamas. Here's hoping your adventure plans go better than mine did!
Trauma Kid (TK) has been, no surprise, anxious about my trip. We've talked about the plan a lot the last 3 weeks. She was going to stay with our Dear Friend (DF), who is more aunt than friend to her. DF's family had plans to surround TK with love and fun so she would be okay. A few nights before the trip, DF came over for dinner and we 3 discussed the trip and any concerns TK had. TK told DF, "I just don't totally trust you yet." DF didn't react (kudos!) but she and I discussed it later after I talked with TK about it. TK told me what she meant....."Mom, Ms. M (her friend/therapist with whom she stayed last year) couldn't handle it when I had a complete fear breakdown, so how can I expect DF to handle it?" DF has never seen/been part of a full-fledged trauma meltdown. She has seen bits of them and has learned a lot, but she hasn't had to deal head on with the complete fear that overtakes TK sometimes. I told TK she was older, more capable of handling her fears, better able to express her needs, and I had confidence she'd be fine. She did mention multiple times that she wished I weren't going, but she never asked me not to go. Compared to the hours of sobbing and pleading last year, this was huge.
Two days before my trip I ducked into the Walk in clinic and confirmed my fears - I have shingles. Knowing this was just the beginning of it, odds were the pain would increase significantly over the next few days. So I decided to wait and go to the camp early Sat AM. Friday I slept in my own comfy bed, medicated for pain. Early Sat DF came over and I headed out. TK wouldn't give me a kiss but said, "Bye, Mom." I expected this....I was just happy she didn't freak.
Saturday was a much toned down experience from the previous year. Between the shingles pain and the fact that the harness for ziplining and other adventure things would rub right on the blisters, I switched to things like screen printing, tie dying and archery. It was still fun to hang with the friends I made last year, but the pain was definitely hampering my fun a lot. I talked to TK during the day and she was having a blast.
Sat about 9PM my phone rang...it was TK, in tears. 'It's too hard, Mom. I'm too scared without you here. I can't do this." I asked her if she'd told DF how she felt, and she said no, she was embarrassed to be crying like a baby and was afraid DF (and another friend who was spending the night) would think she was dumb. We talked for about 15 minutes and she couldn't get regulated. She wasn't panic-stricken, but she was definitely starting to come unglued a bit. I decided to drive home that night.
Should I have stayed? Maybe. If I had felt better I probably would have pushed it, but honestly I was hurting like crazy and not thrilled about sleeping on an old saggy cot with the "snoring bear" (as my roommates deemed one of our bunkmates) close by. I also knew if I pushed her and stayed that she would be okay, but she would be mad at DF and that might damage their relationship. The relationship with DF and her family (our family now) is precious, and I didn't want TK questioning it. So I bailed. I was only a little resentful (we didn't get to do our bridge bounce, planned for the next AM), but I was okay with taking the easy way out. I think it was best for TK and DF, and possibly for me (though a kid free morning would have been nice!).
So my 3 day adventure turned into 1 less-than-adventure-filled day. As usual, being a trauma mama means being flexible. Perhaps I am too flexible sometimes. Perhaps I should push her further out of her comfort zone sometimes. But this was not the time. I didn't have the physical or emotional energy to deal with the fallout, and I couldn't risk TK's relationship with DF and fam.
Maybe next year I'll get the whole 3 days. A trauma mama can hope!
Give yourselves grace when you take the easy road, Trauma Mamas. There usually isn't one, so don't stress over picking that option when you can. My DF gave me the grace of telling me she trusted whatever decision I made because I knew what was best. You do too,trauma mamas. Trust yourself; trust your gut. Ignore the voices of the world that tell you your TK is "too old to act that way", "manipulating you to get her own way", or "spoiled." Your TK is learning to grow through her fear....that's a tall order. It's exhausting for both of you. So take a deep breath, enjoy the easy road when it appears, and know that you really do know what your TK needs.
Be strong, Trauma Mamas. Here's hoping your adventure plans go better than mine did!
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