Trauma Kid (TK)'s therapist and I have been talking a lot about the balance of power. I have acknowledged for a while that I had given too much to TK, but honestly didn't know how to shift it without being totally draconian. After talking it through it seemed that it was time to get draconian and just know it wouldn't be well received. I can handle that - I handle pushback and drama frequently. I'm an old pro.
Tonight TK got a new list of chores (okay, I said I'd be honest in this blog.....she currently doesn't have any chores right now except what she feels like doing or can get paid for). She of course flipped out and told me it wasn't fair for me to "start adulting all at once". I take umbrage at the thought that I haven't been adulting, but I admit I have let her be far too much of an adult. I can whine and lay out all the reasons. The short answer is I did, as always, what I thought was best for our family at the time. In retrospect some of it was pretty much a disastrous decision.
TK and I got into a very heavy conversation about last year. She told me that was the year I stole her childhood. I asked her to explain, and she told me I was "all over her" when she was unhappy or upset and I wouldn't just let her screw up. While some of that is crap, there is some truth in it. So I agreed - and told her the reason why. I explained how hearing her tell me that there had been a lot of nights she prayed not to wake up - AFTER the fact - was the scariest thing I've ever heard. So yes, when she got out of whack I was all over it. I lived in fear of her going back to that place. And I live with the guilt of not knowing that's where she was. So I parented from a place of fear and guilt.....and of course, love. Love is a great place from which to parent. Fear and guilt are recipes for catastrophic failure. In restrospect I see how I let too much go, gave too much leeway, offered too many get out of jail free cards - because I was scared. Scared she would go back to that place of darkness, scared I wouldn't know it.
She was surprised when I told her I slept outside her door for two weeks after she told me that most horrifying statement. She asked why and I told her I knew that way I would hear her if she did anything. She cried with me at that point. I think maybe that bought a little grace for both of us.
Of course she's 13 so I'm regulated to "bad parent". I'm okay with that. But I'm wrestling with seeing the errors and knowing the impact and, even while knowing I did the best I could in that moment, still knowing it wasn't right and was even damaging. I'm struggling to give myself grace for that.
But, as Maya Angelou said, "when you know better you do better." I'm striving to leave behind the guilt and live that out.
Grace is hard to find sometimes, Trauma Mamas. But remember that coming from a place of love is grace at its finest. I'm trying to remember that right now myself.
Tuesday, August 28, 2018
Saturday, August 4, 2018
Annoyed Compassion
Annoyed compassion - I know, it's rather like "jumbo shrimp". But I am living proof that annoyance and compassion can, and do, dwell simultaneously in a person.
Trauma Kid (TK) is a teenager....a challenging time for any parent, I'm told. As TK is my first teenager, I don't have a comparison, but I strongly expect parenting a TK through teenagerhood is rather different than parenting a non-trauma kid. As a parent to a 13 year old, eye rolling and sighing are a normal part of our day (and sadly, I report, it's often on my part!). But there's more - there always seems to be with TKs. Our days often include sudden bursts of anger that are disproportionate to the event. It reminds me of when TK was younger, because I see that same out of control look in her eyes when it happens.
I am weary of it, and utterly annoyed by the attitude of disrespect that her need for a sense of control makes so common. And yet my heart aches for her, because I cannot imagine how emotionally exhausting it is to so often feel on the verge of being completely out of control, of devolving into fits of anger, of struggling to maintain composure when your brain is always in full alert mode. So yes, I am full of compassion for her. And yes, I am utterly annoyed and over it all.
One thing I thought we had (more or less) conquered was the scarcity mentality that so many of our TKs have. I can now (sometimes) compliment a friend without TK feeling "less than". But she has transferred the scarcity beyond me to others. When our dear friends (our "here family") noted my weight loss (a result of 6 months of a complete diet overhaul) and didn't notice her "amazing muscles" that resulted from two weeks of running (ah, the optimism of youth), she was devastated - and thus angry at everyone who hadn't remarked on her "transformation". And of course she was angry at me because I was the object of their positive comments. So I feel (as parents of TKs often do) the desire to minimize my accomplishments, to shove her in front of me so she gets noticed. I'm angry at myself for this. I worked hard to make good choices in spite of two shoulder surgeries and single mom'ing TK through all my post-surgery pain and rehab(s). I SHOULD be allowed to be proud and be noticed. Yet I find myself staying away from the functions that will result in people noting my changes, because it's not worth the fallout. While my heart hurts that she feels there is not enough to go around, I am also annoyed that I am not allowed to be in the spotlight for any moment. (This is something her therapist and I are attacking this fall, but that's a blog entry for another day.)
I can argue that I shouldn't rearrange my life/plans to avoid her potentially getting dysregulated, agree that it's not "normal", but the reality is sometimes it's just too hard to deal with the fallout of situations, so I avoid them. I have to choose my battles, and it feels like they are neverending lately. So yes, I rearrange my life around TK's moods and try to avoid situations that will cause strife. Should I? Probably not. Maybe I should put her in those situations and let her grow through them. But that growth comes at a cost to me, and sometimes I'm just not in a place to pay it.
TK's doc and I are talking about putting her on meds for anxiety. I have such mixed feelings about this. TK readily tells people she suffers from anxiety and depression, but she balks at taking meds because that makes her "broken." In spite of all my speeches about it being a physical thing, a brain chemistry imbalance, "needing" medicine still makes her feel "less than". I hate that she needs them, but I think about how hard she struggles every day to feel in control of herself, and I want to offer whatever relief I can to make her days easier. I told her I took them for a time myself, and it's a temporary thing until her brain matures more and learns more coping skills. The doc will broach it with her at her physical.....TBD how that plays out.
Give yourselves grace, Trauma Mamas - grace when you avoid the hard situations because you just can't deal with the fallout, grace when you get annoyed with the challenges you face, grace when you make choices other don't agree with or can't understand. And mostly give yourselves grace when your compassion takes a backseat to your frustration, annoyance, and exhaustion. The battles continue to arise, but your love and compassion (even when hard to find) will bring you and your TK through.
Trauma Kid (TK) is a teenager....a challenging time for any parent, I'm told. As TK is my first teenager, I don't have a comparison, but I strongly expect parenting a TK through teenagerhood is rather different than parenting a non-trauma kid. As a parent to a 13 year old, eye rolling and sighing are a normal part of our day (and sadly, I report, it's often on my part!). But there's more - there always seems to be with TKs. Our days often include sudden bursts of anger that are disproportionate to the event. It reminds me of when TK was younger, because I see that same out of control look in her eyes when it happens.
I am weary of it, and utterly annoyed by the attitude of disrespect that her need for a sense of control makes so common. And yet my heart aches for her, because I cannot imagine how emotionally exhausting it is to so often feel on the verge of being completely out of control, of devolving into fits of anger, of struggling to maintain composure when your brain is always in full alert mode. So yes, I am full of compassion for her. And yes, I am utterly annoyed and over it all.
One thing I thought we had (more or less) conquered was the scarcity mentality that so many of our TKs have. I can now (sometimes) compliment a friend without TK feeling "less than". But she has transferred the scarcity beyond me to others. When our dear friends (our "here family") noted my weight loss (a result of 6 months of a complete diet overhaul) and didn't notice her "amazing muscles" that resulted from two weeks of running (ah, the optimism of youth), she was devastated - and thus angry at everyone who hadn't remarked on her "transformation". And of course she was angry at me because I was the object of their positive comments. So I feel (as parents of TKs often do) the desire to minimize my accomplishments, to shove her in front of me so she gets noticed. I'm angry at myself for this. I worked hard to make good choices in spite of two shoulder surgeries and single mom'ing TK through all my post-surgery pain and rehab(s). I SHOULD be allowed to be proud and be noticed. Yet I find myself staying away from the functions that will result in people noting my changes, because it's not worth the fallout. While my heart hurts that she feels there is not enough to go around, I am also annoyed that I am not allowed to be in the spotlight for any moment. (This is something her therapist and I are attacking this fall, but that's a blog entry for another day.)
I can argue that I shouldn't rearrange my life/plans to avoid her potentially getting dysregulated, agree that it's not "normal", but the reality is sometimes it's just too hard to deal with the fallout of situations, so I avoid them. I have to choose my battles, and it feels like they are neverending lately. So yes, I rearrange my life around TK's moods and try to avoid situations that will cause strife. Should I? Probably not. Maybe I should put her in those situations and let her grow through them. But that growth comes at a cost to me, and sometimes I'm just not in a place to pay it.
TK's doc and I are talking about putting her on meds for anxiety. I have such mixed feelings about this. TK readily tells people she suffers from anxiety and depression, but she balks at taking meds because that makes her "broken." In spite of all my speeches about it being a physical thing, a brain chemistry imbalance, "needing" medicine still makes her feel "less than". I hate that she needs them, but I think about how hard she struggles every day to feel in control of herself, and I want to offer whatever relief I can to make her days easier. I told her I took them for a time myself, and it's a temporary thing until her brain matures more and learns more coping skills. The doc will broach it with her at her physical.....TBD how that plays out.
Give yourselves grace, Trauma Mamas - grace when you avoid the hard situations because you just can't deal with the fallout, grace when you get annoyed with the challenges you face, grace when you make choices other don't agree with or can't understand. And mostly give yourselves grace when your compassion takes a backseat to your frustration, annoyance, and exhaustion. The battles continue to arise, but your love and compassion (even when hard to find) will bring you and your TK through.
Saturday, April 21, 2018
A real first
For the first time ever, I actually got in the car, turned it on, opened the garage and started to back out - after yelling to TK that I was "going out and would be back in a while" and slamming multiple doors on my way out. Don't get me wrong, I've thought about doing it a zillion times before, but today I actually got the car out of the garage. Then my mom guilt kicked in and I pulled back into the garage, got out of the car, told TK (without yelling) that I would be out back if she needed me, and proceeded out onto the deck where I summarily THREW all the stuff that needed to be cleared off the deck into the yard.
What precipitated my personal meltdown? It was a bad day - a really, really, really bad day.
TK is facing a lot of challenges right now. They have just entered the throes of standardized testing at school - 6 days of it coming up. Add to that needing to learn lines for a play, having a stress fracture so stuck in a boot and unable to do the dance steps for the play or participate in the school's 5k, etc. Basically it's a perfect storm of overwhelm. To make it even stormier, I had shoulder surgery 8 weeks ago and my recuperation has been beyond slow and challenging. I am running on way too little sleep and dealing with muscle spasms and the frustration of not being anywhere close to where I should be in the rehab process. This means I am less emotionally available, less sympathetic, and, according to TK, totally selfish.
When TK is overwhelmed and dysregulated, the new "script" is this....
- I keep telling you the same things over and over and you never listen
- You don't seem to care about anything I do or say
- The only time you seem to be happy is when someone else is around
- Nothing I do is good enough for you; I can never make you happy
- I'm not enough for anybody; nothing I do matters
The ironic part of this script is virtually the same script runs through my head.
I get it; I understand the trauma spiral of doom that goes from "I'm feeling overwhelmed" to "I am useless". But I admit I am tired....tired of being the only one who gets blamed; tired of fighting to stay regulated myself when accused of being selfish and uncaring; tired of putting my needs and desires aside to address TK's; tired of the knowledge that no matter how good things seem, there is certainly a period of dysregulation and the associated drama looming.
We go far longer between periods of dysregulation, yet in some ways I find them even more exhausting. Perhaps I get lulled into complacency when things are good; perhaps I choose to believe that we have hit that magic point where trauma no longer affects us beyond a small occasional blip; perhaps I am just living in a dream world and hoping beyond hope that we are done. But we are not done. I don't know if we will ever be done. We surely have made progress, and trauma no longer rules every moment of our lives, but it is always there, lurking, waiting, seeking that one stress point where the overwhelm can sneak in and make common problems unbearable.
The rules keep changing, trauma mamas. Take courage from knowing you have made it this far in the journey and you are strong enough to keep fighting the good fight. Give yourself grace when you want to get in the car and keep driving, when you can't bear to hear the script and pretend it doesn't hurt you one more time, when you long with all your being to just be "done". I get it. I'm there with you. We will conquer this latest trauma challenge as we have conquered the ones before - with patience, grace, and love.
What precipitated my personal meltdown? It was a bad day - a really, really, really bad day.
TK is facing a lot of challenges right now. They have just entered the throes of standardized testing at school - 6 days of it coming up. Add to that needing to learn lines for a play, having a stress fracture so stuck in a boot and unable to do the dance steps for the play or participate in the school's 5k, etc. Basically it's a perfect storm of overwhelm. To make it even stormier, I had shoulder surgery 8 weeks ago and my recuperation has been beyond slow and challenging. I am running on way too little sleep and dealing with muscle spasms and the frustration of not being anywhere close to where I should be in the rehab process. This means I am less emotionally available, less sympathetic, and, according to TK, totally selfish.
When TK is overwhelmed and dysregulated, the new "script" is this....
- I keep telling you the same things over and over and you never listen
- You don't seem to care about anything I do or say
- The only time you seem to be happy is when someone else is around
- Nothing I do is good enough for you; I can never make you happy
- I'm not enough for anybody; nothing I do matters
The ironic part of this script is virtually the same script runs through my head.
I get it; I understand the trauma spiral of doom that goes from "I'm feeling overwhelmed" to "I am useless". But I admit I am tired....tired of being the only one who gets blamed; tired of fighting to stay regulated myself when accused of being selfish and uncaring; tired of putting my needs and desires aside to address TK's; tired of the knowledge that no matter how good things seem, there is certainly a period of dysregulation and the associated drama looming.
We go far longer between periods of dysregulation, yet in some ways I find them even more exhausting. Perhaps I get lulled into complacency when things are good; perhaps I choose to believe that we have hit that magic point where trauma no longer affects us beyond a small occasional blip; perhaps I am just living in a dream world and hoping beyond hope that we are done. But we are not done. I don't know if we will ever be done. We surely have made progress, and trauma no longer rules every moment of our lives, but it is always there, lurking, waiting, seeking that one stress point where the overwhelm can sneak in and make common problems unbearable.
The rules keep changing, trauma mamas. Take courage from knowing you have made it this far in the journey and you are strong enough to keep fighting the good fight. Give yourself grace when you want to get in the car and keep driving, when you can't bear to hear the script and pretend it doesn't hurt you one more time, when you long with all your being to just be "done". I get it. I'm there with you. We will conquer this latest trauma challenge as we have conquered the ones before - with patience, grace, and love.
Thursday, March 15, 2018
wait, what?
Someone (who has dealt with with TK every day for over 7 months and has been privy to the many meetings about TK and how her trauma manifests and how we deal with it) made a comment today about TK that had me questioning a lot of things.....her progress along this trauma journey, the choices I've made as her parent, the choices I continue to make....but after a lot of tears and contemplation I realized I need to be asking different questions.
I need to ask:
- Why do people still not understand a particular behavior or pattern of behaviors are a form of communicating a need and not a manipulation or histrionics?
- Why do people not understand that a Trauma Kid's attempts to draw attention to themselves are not about selfishness but are about needing connection and safety?
- Why do people want to remove the safeguards we have so painstakingly put in place to help our TKs, thinking that removing them will force our TKs to just "tough it out and deal with the real world"?
I guess the most important questions of all are:
- When will people view trauma with compassion and not judgment?
- When will people want to start really learning about trauma?
- When will more people really be willing to put in the effort to change our TK's lives for the better?
Some basic truths:
- The effects of trauma can't be erased with a year (or two or ten) of effort.
- The tools/safeguards we put into place (e.g., 504/IEP, etc) can't be yanked out so the trauma kid can "better learn to deal with the real world". Those tools may be needed forever - and THAT'S OKAY. Our goal isn't to get rid of the safeguards. Of course we hope to not need them one day, but our goal is to make our TKs feel safe enough to learn and succeed. If we remove those safeguards the minute things improve, there will be no safety net when the inevitable backward step occurs.
- Behaviors are communication; it's our job as the responsible adults to translate it.
- The face of trauma changes; how our TKs react in any situation one time does not mean they will react the same way the next time. There are so many variables in trauma that must be considered.
- Our TKs can't just "tough it out and get over it."
- Trauma causes neurodiversity.....the brain is changed. We have the ability to deal with the changes; we just have to have the willingness.
- It's hard. It's relentless and ever-changing and never takes a vacation.
But there are other truths just as important:
- It's doable. You can make progress, though often there are as many backward steps as there are forward steps.
- Your kid is so much more than a TK. Don't lose sight of that. Don't lose sight of how smart/funny/loving/amazingly courageous they are.
- You are so much more than a Trauma Mama. Don't lose sight of how smart/funny/loving/amazingly courageous YOU are.
I know this was a rambling blog. There are a lot of thoughts running through my brain, and a lot of emotions running through my heart. Mostly I feel discouraged and disappointed. I forget that not everyone is on board. I forget that even though I spend lots of time trying to educate people, some don't get it, and some don't WANT to get it. I forget that not everyone is willing to give TK the grace she needs as she goes along her journey. And sometimes, like today, I forget to stop and look at how far we've come. That's where the grace is...in stopping and reflecting on the successes (however minor) and progress (however minuscule).
Trauma sucks. Dealing with trauma every day sucks. I know how hard it is for us Trauma Mamas; I can't even imagine how much harder it is for our kids. But they're not alone, and luckily, neither are we. We can do this, Trauma Mamas. As Glennon Doyle says, we can do hard things. And we ARE doing hard things.....every single day.
So the next time someone says something "helpful" that rocks my world a little, I'll stop and go back and read some old blog entries and remember how far we've come, and relish in the fact that while we still have a long way to go, we are on the right road. Hold onto the grace that brought you this far and know it will go with you as you move forward. I'm here with you, Trauma Mamas.
I need to ask:
- Why do people still not understand a particular behavior or pattern of behaviors are a form of communicating a need and not a manipulation or histrionics?
- Why do people not understand that a Trauma Kid's attempts to draw attention to themselves are not about selfishness but are about needing connection and safety?
- Why do people want to remove the safeguards we have so painstakingly put in place to help our TKs, thinking that removing them will force our TKs to just "tough it out and deal with the real world"?
I guess the most important questions of all are:
- When will people view trauma with compassion and not judgment?
- When will people want to start really learning about trauma?
- When will more people really be willing to put in the effort to change our TK's lives for the better?
Some basic truths:
- The effects of trauma can't be erased with a year (or two or ten) of effort.
- The tools/safeguards we put into place (e.g., 504/IEP, etc) can't be yanked out so the trauma kid can "better learn to deal with the real world". Those tools may be needed forever - and THAT'S OKAY. Our goal isn't to get rid of the safeguards. Of course we hope to not need them one day, but our goal is to make our TKs feel safe enough to learn and succeed. If we remove those safeguards the minute things improve, there will be no safety net when the inevitable backward step occurs.
- Behaviors are communication; it's our job as the responsible adults to translate it.
- The face of trauma changes; how our TKs react in any situation one time does not mean they will react the same way the next time. There are so many variables in trauma that must be considered.
- Our TKs can't just "tough it out and get over it."
- Trauma causes neurodiversity.....the brain is changed. We have the ability to deal with the changes; we just have to have the willingness.
- It's hard. It's relentless and ever-changing and never takes a vacation.
But there are other truths just as important:
- It's doable. You can make progress, though often there are as many backward steps as there are forward steps.
- Your kid is so much more than a TK. Don't lose sight of that. Don't lose sight of how smart/funny/loving/amazingly courageous they are.
- You are so much more than a Trauma Mama. Don't lose sight of how smart/funny/loving/amazingly courageous YOU are.
I know this was a rambling blog. There are a lot of thoughts running through my brain, and a lot of emotions running through my heart. Mostly I feel discouraged and disappointed. I forget that not everyone is on board. I forget that even though I spend lots of time trying to educate people, some don't get it, and some don't WANT to get it. I forget that not everyone is willing to give TK the grace she needs as she goes along her journey. And sometimes, like today, I forget to stop and look at how far we've come. That's where the grace is...in stopping and reflecting on the successes (however minor) and progress (however minuscule).
Trauma sucks. Dealing with trauma every day sucks. I know how hard it is for us Trauma Mamas; I can't even imagine how much harder it is for our kids. But they're not alone, and luckily, neither are we. We can do this, Trauma Mamas. As Glennon Doyle says, we can do hard things. And we ARE doing hard things.....every single day.
So the next time someone says something "helpful" that rocks my world a little, I'll stop and go back and read some old blog entries and remember how far we've come, and relish in the fact that while we still have a long way to go, we are on the right road. Hold onto the grace that brought you this far and know it will go with you as you move forward. I'm here with you, Trauma Mamas.
Thursday, January 11, 2018
Loathe....abhor.....detest
I loathe trauma --- with every ounce of my being. It is the seemingly unbeatable opponent. No matter how many years of love and tears and prayers I pour into it, I cannot erase the neglect and abuse of the first year of my Trauma Kid's (TK's) life. Sometimes it seems we are winning the battle; the smiles are more frequent than the tears, moments of true joy arise, and we live in a peaceful happy house. Then there days like today.
Something happened at school. I still don't know exactly what, but evidently TK made an inappropriate comment about something in Social Studies. I'm confident this was a comment about the topic at hand and not about a person in the class. (While that could quite honestly happen, it's not likely to happen in front of the whole class). Whatever was said was egregious enough that TK was given a really hard time by the classmates. So much so that TK sat alone at lunch - not by choice. And when I say alone I mean the only person at the table.
TK has (had?) two best friends. One told TK they were ditching her because there were better people to hang out with. The other one talked to TK after school; they argued and the friend told TK they were done forgiving TK's shortcomings. The result of this was TK coming out sobbing, then calming down and telling me, "I wish I would die." I asked TK if I should be scared by this statement. TK told me, "I don't know. I don't know at what point I say that and I really mean it and not just for this moment but for forever."
Luckily we had an appointment with the therapist tonight, so things got turned around a bit.
On the way home, TK told me to "stop overreacting to me saying I wish I would die. You need to let it go. I mean it for a minute but then I'm okay so I need you to just stop worrying and making a big deal out of it." I explained that when I asked if I needed to be scared, the answer I got was basically, "maybe", so it was hard to just let it go.
I am weary. I can't find the grace in this. I guess the only grace I can find right now is there is no school tomorrow because of snow so TK doesn't have to face the "former friends" and feel that rejection and isolation.
I get it. I know TK is harsh and brutally mean when hurt. I get how people run from that. I know it's not reasonable to ask 12 and 13 year olds to look past that and realize TK's brain is damaged. TK looks fine and smiles and fakes it, so when TK explodes it surprises people who haven't been in TK's life very long. But I wish I could explain it to them; tell them TK goes into a fight or flight mode when rejected and truly can't control the words that come out; tell them that TK is desperate for acceptance and knows the anger and harsh words are counterproductive but can't control them; tell them TK is funny and courageous and deals with more than most people will ever know. But I can't. So I will wait until TK is in bed to cry; I will try not to have this niggling fear that TK may hit that point where I really do need to be scared; I will try to listen and not react; I will struggle to make peace with this trauma beast and not give up the fight to defeat it once and for all.
I am weary. Trauma Mama'ing is exhausting, and solo Trauma Mama'ing is at times mind-numbingly so. But the moments of smiles and joy give us the strength to hang in (even if by our fingernails).
Hang tough, Trauma Mamas. Sharpen those fingernails and dig them in if you need to. Grab the grace in a snow day or a smile (or a great therapist).
Something happened at school. I still don't know exactly what, but evidently TK made an inappropriate comment about something in Social Studies. I'm confident this was a comment about the topic at hand and not about a person in the class. (While that could quite honestly happen, it's not likely to happen in front of the whole class). Whatever was said was egregious enough that TK was given a really hard time by the classmates. So much so that TK sat alone at lunch - not by choice. And when I say alone I mean the only person at the table.
TK has (had?) two best friends. One told TK they were ditching her because there were better people to hang out with. The other one talked to TK after school; they argued and the friend told TK they were done forgiving TK's shortcomings. The result of this was TK coming out sobbing, then calming down and telling me, "I wish I would die." I asked TK if I should be scared by this statement. TK told me, "I don't know. I don't know at what point I say that and I really mean it and not just for this moment but for forever."
Luckily we had an appointment with the therapist tonight, so things got turned around a bit.
On the way home, TK told me to "stop overreacting to me saying I wish I would die. You need to let it go. I mean it for a minute but then I'm okay so I need you to just stop worrying and making a big deal out of it." I explained that when I asked if I needed to be scared, the answer I got was basically, "maybe", so it was hard to just let it go.
I am weary. I can't find the grace in this. I guess the only grace I can find right now is there is no school tomorrow because of snow so TK doesn't have to face the "former friends" and feel that rejection and isolation.
I get it. I know TK is harsh and brutally mean when hurt. I get how people run from that. I know it's not reasonable to ask 12 and 13 year olds to look past that and realize TK's brain is damaged. TK looks fine and smiles and fakes it, so when TK explodes it surprises people who haven't been in TK's life very long. But I wish I could explain it to them; tell them TK goes into a fight or flight mode when rejected and truly can't control the words that come out; tell them that TK is desperate for acceptance and knows the anger and harsh words are counterproductive but can't control them; tell them TK is funny and courageous and deals with more than most people will ever know. But I can't. So I will wait until TK is in bed to cry; I will try not to have this niggling fear that TK may hit that point where I really do need to be scared; I will try to listen and not react; I will struggle to make peace with this trauma beast and not give up the fight to defeat it once and for all.
I am weary. Trauma Mama'ing is exhausting, and solo Trauma Mama'ing is at times mind-numbingly so. But the moments of smiles and joy give us the strength to hang in (even if by our fingernails).
Hang tough, Trauma Mamas. Sharpen those fingernails and dig them in if you need to. Grab the grace in a snow day or a smile (or a great therapist).
Tuesday, November 21, 2017
Painful truths
As we move along our trauma journey of healing, I continue to learn new things - most of which I never wanted to learn. Today was no exception.
Last week TK and her counselor came up with new goals. TK's goals included being less angry and being kinder. I am all in favor of that. While I know TK's anger is a manifestation of fear, knowing that does not automatically imbue me with the ability to always respond from a place of compassion. It's exhausting being with someone who is frequently angry. I realized that afresh because the last two days were awesome. TK was silly and loving; I got hugs (very rare) and "I love yous". She even gave me a Wonder Woman ornament for our Christmas tree and told me, "I bought it because you're always my Wonder Woman." I had honestly forgotten how much fun it could be to hang with TK. When she is happy she exudes joy and a zest for life and a sense of silliness that is contagious. It's been so long that since I had a real hug from her that it threw me when I realized she was taller than I am. I knew that, but hadn't been hugged by her since she topped me in height.
The painful realizations are just that - painful. The reality is TK is often angry (aka scared), and her "last man standing and the last man is always going to me" approach (a classic survival mode response) tends to not leave people wanting to give her grace. She is champion of the underdog, which is wonderful, but the way she stands up for them is to annihilate the person who is challenging the underdog. This leads other people to tell TK she's mean or rude. One even went so far as to tell her she was going to hell because she is not a nice person. (Yeah, that led to a mom to mom phone call.) I know TK is frustrated by her inability to regulate her reactions. She is much better about than she was when she was younger, but there is still a long way to go.
I can only imagine how exhausting it is for her to feel scared and, therefore, angry so much of the time. I wonder what I could have done differently to help her. When did the fear and anger outweigh the joy and frivolity? Why didn't I find a way to lessen the fear sooner ? When did I give in to the anger and respond with resignation instead of determination to move her past it?
The other, related, painful reality is that while there a number of people who love TK, some of them don't actually like her. They love her because they love me, but they don't enjoy her company or really want to spend time with her. I get it....she's tough. But it breaks my heart, because behind the anger and fear is a kind, compassionate, wildly funny person who loves with her whole heart and would die defending the people she loves.
We are working hard to make that part of TK stronger. That part has at least appeared for a while this week; it's been a really long time since it has been here. I miss that version of TK, and I long for the day that part of TK trumps the scared and angry part.
I'm trying to give myself some grace for resigning myself to the anger and fear instead of fighting it. Give yourself some as well. This journey is ridiculously hard. Grab those moments where the joy comes forth and let yourself breathe deeply and just enjoy it. It probably won't last, but it might just give you the grace and emotional energy to get you through the next cycle of fear and anger.
Last week TK and her counselor came up with new goals. TK's goals included being less angry and being kinder. I am all in favor of that. While I know TK's anger is a manifestation of fear, knowing that does not automatically imbue me with the ability to always respond from a place of compassion. It's exhausting being with someone who is frequently angry. I realized that afresh because the last two days were awesome. TK was silly and loving; I got hugs (very rare) and "I love yous". She even gave me a Wonder Woman ornament for our Christmas tree and told me, "I bought it because you're always my Wonder Woman." I had honestly forgotten how much fun it could be to hang with TK. When she is happy she exudes joy and a zest for life and a sense of silliness that is contagious. It's been so long that since I had a real hug from her that it threw me when I realized she was taller than I am. I knew that, but hadn't been hugged by her since she topped me in height.
The painful realizations are just that - painful. The reality is TK is often angry (aka scared), and her "last man standing and the last man is always going to me" approach (a classic survival mode response) tends to not leave people wanting to give her grace. She is champion of the underdog, which is wonderful, but the way she stands up for them is to annihilate the person who is challenging the underdog. This leads other people to tell TK she's mean or rude. One even went so far as to tell her she was going to hell because she is not a nice person. (Yeah, that led to a mom to mom phone call.) I know TK is frustrated by her inability to regulate her reactions. She is much better about than she was when she was younger, but there is still a long way to go.
I can only imagine how exhausting it is for her to feel scared and, therefore, angry so much of the time. I wonder what I could have done differently to help her. When did the fear and anger outweigh the joy and frivolity? Why didn't I find a way to lessen the fear sooner ? When did I give in to the anger and respond with resignation instead of determination to move her past it?
The other, related, painful reality is that while there a number of people who love TK, some of them don't actually like her. They love her because they love me, but they don't enjoy her company or really want to spend time with her. I get it....she's tough. But it breaks my heart, because behind the anger and fear is a kind, compassionate, wildly funny person who loves with her whole heart and would die defending the people she loves.
We are working hard to make that part of TK stronger. That part has at least appeared for a while this week; it's been a really long time since it has been here. I miss that version of TK, and I long for the day that part of TK trumps the scared and angry part.
I'm trying to give myself some grace for resigning myself to the anger and fear instead of fighting it. Give yourself some as well. This journey is ridiculously hard. Grab those moments where the joy comes forth and let yourself breathe deeply and just enjoy it. It probably won't last, but it might just give you the grace and emotional energy to get you through the next cycle of fear and anger.
Saturday, November 11, 2017
The more things change
I was going to say it's interesting watching the changing face of trauma as TK moves into teenagerhood. But the truth is it sucks watching the changing face of trauma. And even after 8 years of the journey, I still screw up and forget stuff. Yes, parts of it have seemingly resolved as TK's brain continues to change (thank you neuroplasticity) and TK matures, but that underlying fear of rejection and abandonment is always there. I don't know if it takes more to activate it or if TK is just better at masking it...I suspect some of both. But this week it came roaring to life, and I got to really notice the changes in the face of trauma from childhood to teenage years (or just different years in the journey, depending when your family's healing journey started).
When TK was much younger and when we were just on the beginning of this journey (for us roughly ages 4-8), trauma manifested as "everything in a 10 mile radius gets destroyed". The face of trauma was hitting, breaking things, screaming hateful words and basically wiping out anyone in range. In the "middle years" (ages 8-11), trauma was a mix of widespread destruction and targeted attacks. While general destruction still occurred, it lessened greatly, and the verbal attacks were made, usually to me after the fact (progress!) about the "offending parties".
Now, at age 12, trauma results in targeted annihilation. This is sometimes directed inwardly (the scariest of all) in the "typical" traumaspeak: "I have no friends; everyone hates me; I'm not lovable". This is terrifying as you can't see it, and when you add the normal angst of puberty, it has the chance of spiraling quickly to a dark place. You see walls coming up and communication shutting down and you wonder if it's just hormones or trauma, or worse, both.
Sometimes the trauma comes outward, laser focused - usually at me. (Because who else is there?) I spent many hours this week (okay, the last few months) being annoyed and angry and treating the trauma as "typical teenage angst", but I forgot the basic rule of trauma - the "bad" behavior is a result of fear.
TK goes to therapy once a week or so. After the session, TK is usually lighthearted and even silly.....for an hour or two. Then TK becomes introspective, disgruntled, and often quite mean. I get it. I've been through therapy and I know it leaves you raw and needing to process through what you just talked about. When you're an adult, you usually do that in the privacy of your own head. When you're a 12 year old trauma kid.......not so much. We often bang heads later that night, and I frequently hear how everything is fine except for me; that I cause the angst, I make TK's life worse, etc. It always hurts my feelings but I remind myself that TK is healing and all that turmoil has to go somewhere. (The part that stinks about being a single parent is it ALWAYS goes on me.) This week was typical - all happiness and light for a while, then the trauma monster came out to play.
To TK's credit (and mine), even when the conversation got really hard and tears were flowing (from both of us), neither of us walked away. We stayed in the conversation and kept working through it. A lot if it WAS typical teenage stuff - "you don't trust me, you think I'm stupid and can't make good decisions", but even typical teenage stuff is not typical when it comes from a trauma kid. But as the conversation continued, TK suddenly yelled, "You have no idea how hard it is to wonder every day if you're going to get hurt or die when you're at school bus driver training! You don't know what you're doing and that thing is HUGE. Every day I'm scared to death my phone will ring and I'll have to ask a teacher to take me home or to the hospital."
Fear....it's always fear. I will say that quite honestly part of me was glad to hear that because, like most parents of teenagers, I spend most of my time sure TK hates me. It was nice to know TK was scared to lose me. After TK made that statement, all the energy went out of the argument. TK had voiced the real issue, and NOW we could move forward. I spent a long time explaining the training process and the safety measures, and I told TK if the fear was paralyzing I would find another option.
I had never occurred to me that TK was scared I could get hurt/die learning to drive a bus. (At this point in the blog I mentally slap myself in the head and say, "Really? 8 years in and you STILL don't get this?") But the changing face of trauma had me fooled. It manifested as teenage angst and hormonal drama, and I bought into it. That undoubtedly is part of it and makes the trauma stuff even harder (oh goodie).
When your teenage TK is going off the rails, remember that under all that "you are the worst parent ever" stuff is the voice of that baby/little kid/big kid in the orphanage (hospital, foster care system, wherever) scared no one will be there to love them and keep them safe.
So yep, I forgot to look for the fear. But I'm giving myself grace and letting it go. Hopefully I'll remember to look for it next time (because there will be a next time). It can be a lot harder to dig down to it as our TKs get older, but I was reminded that if I stay in the conversation (and I have been known to walk away because I just don't want to hear it and I'm tired of it), we get to the real issue. I did this pretty easily when TK was younger. It's harder now -TK is much better at hitting where it hurts (emotionally) and it takes a lot to hang in there through all the hard stuff. But it's worth it.
Do your best to ride out the hard stuff, trauma mamas. The only way past trauma is through it. There's no seatbelt and it seems like the world's longest ride a lot of days, but when you see the look on your TK's face when they truly feel heard and safe, it's worth every tear - even the ones your cry into your pillow when your TK is sleeping.
Give yourself grace when you unbuckle and get off the ride for a while. Sometimes you just need to get your own equilibrium before you can go for round 2,679.
When TK was much younger and when we were just on the beginning of this journey (for us roughly ages 4-8), trauma manifested as "everything in a 10 mile radius gets destroyed". The face of trauma was hitting, breaking things, screaming hateful words and basically wiping out anyone in range. In the "middle years" (ages 8-11), trauma was a mix of widespread destruction and targeted attacks. While general destruction still occurred, it lessened greatly, and the verbal attacks were made, usually to me after the fact (progress!) about the "offending parties".
Now, at age 12, trauma results in targeted annihilation. This is sometimes directed inwardly (the scariest of all) in the "typical" traumaspeak: "I have no friends; everyone hates me; I'm not lovable". This is terrifying as you can't see it, and when you add the normal angst of puberty, it has the chance of spiraling quickly to a dark place. You see walls coming up and communication shutting down and you wonder if it's just hormones or trauma, or worse, both.
Sometimes the trauma comes outward, laser focused - usually at me. (Because who else is there?) I spent many hours this week (okay, the last few months) being annoyed and angry and treating the trauma as "typical teenage angst", but I forgot the basic rule of trauma - the "bad" behavior is a result of fear.
TK goes to therapy once a week or so. After the session, TK is usually lighthearted and even silly.....for an hour or two. Then TK becomes introspective, disgruntled, and often quite mean. I get it. I've been through therapy and I know it leaves you raw and needing to process through what you just talked about. When you're an adult, you usually do that in the privacy of your own head. When you're a 12 year old trauma kid.......not so much. We often bang heads later that night, and I frequently hear how everything is fine except for me; that I cause the angst, I make TK's life worse, etc. It always hurts my feelings but I remind myself that TK is healing and all that turmoil has to go somewhere. (The part that stinks about being a single parent is it ALWAYS goes on me.) This week was typical - all happiness and light for a while, then the trauma monster came out to play.
To TK's credit (and mine), even when the conversation got really hard and tears were flowing (from both of us), neither of us walked away. We stayed in the conversation and kept working through it. A lot if it WAS typical teenage stuff - "you don't trust me, you think I'm stupid and can't make good decisions", but even typical teenage stuff is not typical when it comes from a trauma kid. But as the conversation continued, TK suddenly yelled, "You have no idea how hard it is to wonder every day if you're going to get hurt or die when you're at school bus driver training! You don't know what you're doing and that thing is HUGE. Every day I'm scared to death my phone will ring and I'll have to ask a teacher to take me home or to the hospital."
Fear....it's always fear. I will say that quite honestly part of me was glad to hear that because, like most parents of teenagers, I spend most of my time sure TK hates me. It was nice to know TK was scared to lose me. After TK made that statement, all the energy went out of the argument. TK had voiced the real issue, and NOW we could move forward. I spent a long time explaining the training process and the safety measures, and I told TK if the fear was paralyzing I would find another option.
I had never occurred to me that TK was scared I could get hurt/die learning to drive a bus. (At this point in the blog I mentally slap myself in the head and say, "Really? 8 years in and you STILL don't get this?") But the changing face of trauma had me fooled. It manifested as teenage angst and hormonal drama, and I bought into it. That undoubtedly is part of it and makes the trauma stuff even harder (oh goodie).
When your teenage TK is going off the rails, remember that under all that "you are the worst parent ever" stuff is the voice of that baby/little kid/big kid in the orphanage (hospital, foster care system, wherever) scared no one will be there to love them and keep them safe.
So yep, I forgot to look for the fear. But I'm giving myself grace and letting it go. Hopefully I'll remember to look for it next time (because there will be a next time). It can be a lot harder to dig down to it as our TKs get older, but I was reminded that if I stay in the conversation (and I have been known to walk away because I just don't want to hear it and I'm tired of it), we get to the real issue. I did this pretty easily when TK was younger. It's harder now -TK is much better at hitting where it hurts (emotionally) and it takes a lot to hang in there through all the hard stuff. But it's worth it.
Do your best to ride out the hard stuff, trauma mamas. The only way past trauma is through it. There's no seatbelt and it seems like the world's longest ride a lot of days, but when you see the look on your TK's face when they truly feel heard and safe, it's worth every tear - even the ones your cry into your pillow when your TK is sleeping.
Give yourself grace when you unbuckle and get off the ride for a while. Sometimes you just need to get your own equilibrium before you can go for round 2,679.
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