TK has given me the chance to mull on connection quite a bit tonight. We had a great drama-free day, a sweet evening filled with laughter and games, and a smooth easy bedtime. TK was asleep before her 9 PM bedtime. So why, you may ask, has she been up three times already? Beats me. And why, you may ask, does she come find me every time she wakes up and ask me to come in her room and pat her/sit with her. That one I CAN answer.
Anthropologist Margaret Mead said something along the lines of "the greatest human need is someone to worry when you don't come home at night." Because we all need connection. That's why TK comes to get me every time she wakes up.
You are probably thinking, "an almost 11 year old should be able to get herself back to sleep." True, and a non TK 11 year old probably can. In truth, TK could too if there were no choice. But luckily for her there is a choice.
When a person who has the ability to fully self regulate wakes up in the middle of the night, they either physically or emotionally/mentally seek a connection - grab a loved one's hand, pull up a fond memory, say a prayer, think about their day.....the connect to someone or something important to them. It makes them feel grounded and safe.
When a TK, who does not have the ability to fully self regulate, wakes up, they seek that same connection. But theirs comes from a physical connection with a "safe" person. TK doesn't have the ability, especially when just awaking unexpectedly, to find sufficiency in the thought of me. She needs my physical presence to make her feel safe and ease her through the transition to sleep.
Tonight she has walked out, said, "I'm sorry, Mom, but I just feel better when you're with me after I wake up." Her mind knows what she needs, even if she isn't awake enough to know it consciously. So at her most vulnerable, she seeks connection, safety, and love. Don't we all?
Connection - it gives us strength; it gives us peace; it gives us grace. Margaret Mead knew it 100 years ago. Thanks to TK, I get to re-learn and remember it. There is definitely grace in that knowledge. Find the grace in connection - with your TK, with your support network, with other Trauma Mamas/Daddies/caregivers. Be strong, Trauma Mamas. It can be challenging to be the safe place multiple times in one night (or many nights), but take pride in knowing YOU are your TK's rock, their safety, their "connection".
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
Tuesday, April 5, 2016
Holy flashback, Batman!
I wasn't going to publish this until tomorrow, but I'm awake and tomorrow may go to Hades in a handbasket, so.....
.....the return of the nuclear meltdown......sigh.......
It happened over our old nemesis, spelling. Those of you who have been with us for the long haul probably remember many a meltdown over this particular topic. TK has never been, and still is not, a good speller. It may be due to dysgraphia, or maybe her birth parents were missing the spelling gene, but whatever the reason, her spelling is A-B-Y-S-M-A-L. I can flit about unconcerned about this for a while, then we start talking about "regular" (i.e., public) middle school and something in me freaks envisioning the papers that look like a mass murder occurred on them with all the red ink. Yes, the enemy of handling trauma - FEAR! What if my kid flunks middle school? What if everyone makes fun of her because she can't spell? What if she feels like a failure and my years of tears and anguish and trauma healing are undone? How will she get into college?
Yep, F-E-A-R. Everytime I let it run my brain I send TK off the deep end. So yeah, the nuclear meltdown - totally my fault. (But seriously, it is JUST a spelling list!)
To recap the fun that was (not) had in the trauma house tonight....
TK is now playing volleyball, so for every two words she gets correct she gets to do two serves. (I can't go on the trampoline right now because of a post-concussion issue, which is causing no small amount of stress because "I can only do spelling on the trampoline, Mom!") But I digress, as usual.
TK does a few warm up serves. One bounces off the garage into the rosebush and TK freaks that her new volleyball may be losing air from the thorns. I tell her it's fine and call out the first word. TK (who spelled it perfectly yesterday), blithely says, "I don't know and I don't care." Well, if you want to get this Trauma Mama fired up, "I don't care" is the best firestarter in town. I handed her the paper and walked inside. Of course she followed me, screaming, "I want to do spelling!! Just tell me how to spell it!!" I told her I wasn't going to participate if she wasn't going to even try and kept walking. She ran in past me, shredded her list and yelled, "So who cares if I can't spell! I'll just be stupid forever and you can be embarrassed by me. I'll just watch TV all day and get fat. Is that what you want?" This was followed by a slammed bedroom door and hysterical sobbing.
No, I did NOT take the high road. I just didn't want to (welcome to the real world of trauma parenting). I continued making the cake I had started and counted to about 17 zillion in my head. Somewhere about 16 zillion I chilled out, but I still had no desire to go in TK's room. I had a long talk with myself and finally relented and took that *%& high road. I went into TK's room, totally faking it (but hey, give me credit for trying). I told her even if she got fat I would still love her (addressing her non sequitir seemed the safest starting place). She told me she felt like I was saying she was lazy because I said she wouldn't even try. I apologized for making her feel that way. (Luckily my years of trauma mama'ing kicked in automatically, because my rational brain was still annoyed about the spelling thing. Thank goodness for trauma mama muscle memory!) After a few (okay, 40) minutes we were smiling and she was telling me about the book she was reading.
In some ways I had forgotten how exhausting it was to tamp down your own frustration and anger and be in that trauma moment with your TK. And I am so grateful that I have been allowed to forget that, even if only temporarily. There was a really long stretch where I could not forget because I was doing it every day.
The biggest grace in all this.....after talking, my sweet TK says, very softly, "I'm really sorry, Mom. It's just too much for me. Can we talk about how to solve it tomorrow?"
Grab the grace when your TK tosses it your way, Trauma Mamas. Savor it and keep it tucked in your heart for those days when you "just don't want to." It's okay to not want to, and it's okay to "just not" sometimes. Give yourselves the grace of a pass sometimes. Know you are always being the best Trauma Mama you can. Some days you'll be world class, some days.....not so much. But you are healing your TK every day, even on the not good ones, because your love never wavers.
Be strong, Trauma Mamas.
.....the return of the nuclear meltdown......sigh.......
It happened over our old nemesis, spelling. Those of you who have been with us for the long haul probably remember many a meltdown over this particular topic. TK has never been, and still is not, a good speller. It may be due to dysgraphia, or maybe her birth parents were missing the spelling gene, but whatever the reason, her spelling is A-B-Y-S-M-A-L. I can flit about unconcerned about this for a while, then we start talking about "regular" (i.e., public) middle school and something in me freaks envisioning the papers that look like a mass murder occurred on them with all the red ink. Yes, the enemy of handling trauma - FEAR! What if my kid flunks middle school? What if everyone makes fun of her because she can't spell? What if she feels like a failure and my years of tears and anguish and trauma healing are undone? How will she get into college?
Yep, F-E-A-R. Everytime I let it run my brain I send TK off the deep end. So yeah, the nuclear meltdown - totally my fault. (But seriously, it is JUST a spelling list!)
To recap the fun that was (not) had in the trauma house tonight....
TK is now playing volleyball, so for every two words she gets correct she gets to do two serves. (I can't go on the trampoline right now because of a post-concussion issue, which is causing no small amount of stress because "I can only do spelling on the trampoline, Mom!") But I digress, as usual.
TK does a few warm up serves. One bounces off the garage into the rosebush and TK freaks that her new volleyball may be losing air from the thorns. I tell her it's fine and call out the first word. TK (who spelled it perfectly yesterday), blithely says, "I don't know and I don't care." Well, if you want to get this Trauma Mama fired up, "I don't care" is the best firestarter in town. I handed her the paper and walked inside. Of course she followed me, screaming, "I want to do spelling!! Just tell me how to spell it!!" I told her I wasn't going to participate if she wasn't going to even try and kept walking. She ran in past me, shredded her list and yelled, "So who cares if I can't spell! I'll just be stupid forever and you can be embarrassed by me. I'll just watch TV all day and get fat. Is that what you want?" This was followed by a slammed bedroom door and hysterical sobbing.
No, I did NOT take the high road. I just didn't want to (welcome to the real world of trauma parenting). I continued making the cake I had started and counted to about 17 zillion in my head. Somewhere about 16 zillion I chilled out, but I still had no desire to go in TK's room. I had a long talk with myself and finally relented and took that *%& high road. I went into TK's room, totally faking it (but hey, give me credit for trying). I told her even if she got fat I would still love her (addressing her non sequitir seemed the safest starting place). She told me she felt like I was saying she was lazy because I said she wouldn't even try. I apologized for making her feel that way. (Luckily my years of trauma mama'ing kicked in automatically, because my rational brain was still annoyed about the spelling thing. Thank goodness for trauma mama muscle memory!) After a few (okay, 40) minutes we were smiling and she was telling me about the book she was reading.
In some ways I had forgotten how exhausting it was to tamp down your own frustration and anger and be in that trauma moment with your TK. And I am so grateful that I have been allowed to forget that, even if only temporarily. There was a really long stretch where I could not forget because I was doing it every day.
The biggest grace in all this.....after talking, my sweet TK says, very softly, "I'm really sorry, Mom. It's just too much for me. Can we talk about how to solve it tomorrow?"
Grab the grace when your TK tosses it your way, Trauma Mamas. Savor it and keep it tucked in your heart for those days when you "just don't want to." It's okay to not want to, and it's okay to "just not" sometimes. Give yourselves the grace of a pass sometimes. Know you are always being the best Trauma Mama you can. Some days you'll be world class, some days.....not so much. But you are healing your TK every day, even on the not good ones, because your love never wavers.
Be strong, Trauma Mamas.
Needing a new toolbox....where's the Trauma Lowe's?
This blog was going to be all about the changing face of trauma, detailing how we no longer had screaming/crying jags with slamming doors and torn papers......until we did. As always, trauma keeps me humble by shattering my "certainties" and perceptions.
I've been thinking a lot lately about the changing face of trauma. We have (for the most part) moved beyond heart-wrenching sobs and level 4 meltdowns, replete with slamming doors and things being hurled/torn/broken. TK's trauma now shows itself far more internally.......upset stomach (to the point of vomiting), inability to sleep, and other far more insidious manifestations. The good news is we have set the stage for communication (and it has, hallelujah, worked!). TK has decided that she needs to talk about her day to "process out the nerves". Talking, peppermint tea, and meditations for anxiety and sleep help.....sometimes. I am thrilled that the tears and prayers and years of talking about her feelings and being accepting of them without judgment has resulted in her knowing she can talk to me about her feelings now. (Granted, she is still a tween and not yet a bona fide teenager, so I'm sure some shutdown will be coming.)
I'm not sure this manifestation of trauma is better than the previous. You'd think it would be easier, but it's just different. It requires many of the same skills, but mostly it requires patience and compassion.....listening to the same worries, same frustrations, and same feelings of insecurity and unworthiness day after day (after day after day after day......) There are some nights when TK starts talking about her day and the seemingly endless drama with a particular classmate that I want to put the pillow over my head and scream, because I've heard it all a million times. One day I offered a solution (trauma fail!) and she called me on it immediately. "Mom, I don't want your suggestions, I just want you to listen!" Letting our TKs work out their challenges can be exhausting, because it can take so long for them to get to a place of regulation where they can even BEGIN to think about solutions. Staying in that place of compassion and just hearing them often takes every iota of patience you have (and a few you have to mortgage from tomorrow). They do eventually get to problem-solving, but, as always, you have to get through the trauma junk first - the "everyone hates me, I'm not likable/lovable, I'm stupid, everyone thinks everything is always my fault". I realize these are easily attributable to tween angst as well, but the TK takes them to the most illogical conclusion so rapidly it makes your head spin. "I got in an argument with a friend today" turns into "I'll never have a friend again and everyone hates me; I have been totally rejected" in a minute or less. And everyone around them is stunned when they go off the deep end and start screaming over a "silly argument". They don't realize that your TK is now convinced they are totally rejected and alone. Normal tween angst doesn't end in that conclusion.
We haven't cracked the nut on how to handle this new manifestion of trauma. I'm working on building a new toolbox. It will contain those all purpose tools of compassion and listening, and we've added in meditation. TK still has many nights where she feels like she's going to throw up (though she hasn't in a while, so I guess we're making progress), and every so often she will even wake up in the middle of the night feeling that way, so obviously we haven't found the complete tool-set yet. And maybe we won't, and I'll do my best to be okay with that. As I keep reminding myself, Heather Forbes says, "Sometimes the growth is in the struggle." I find it harder to watch TK struggle this way than the nuclear meltdowns (and we had one of those tonight....so I have a legit comparison!).
I am so grateful for the grace that has taken us to the point where TK communicates openly and freely. Find your successes and claim the grace in them, Trauma Mamas. You'll need them on this changing, challenging journey.
As for the epic meltdown/trauma flashback....well that gives me something to blog about tomorrow.
I've been thinking a lot lately about the changing face of trauma. We have (for the most part) moved beyond heart-wrenching sobs and level 4 meltdowns, replete with slamming doors and things being hurled/torn/broken. TK's trauma now shows itself far more internally.......upset stomach (to the point of vomiting), inability to sleep, and other far more insidious manifestations. The good news is we have set the stage for communication (and it has, hallelujah, worked!). TK has decided that she needs to talk about her day to "process out the nerves". Talking, peppermint tea, and meditations for anxiety and sleep help.....sometimes. I am thrilled that the tears and prayers and years of talking about her feelings and being accepting of them without judgment has resulted in her knowing she can talk to me about her feelings now. (Granted, she is still a tween and not yet a bona fide teenager, so I'm sure some shutdown will be coming.)
I'm not sure this manifestation of trauma is better than the previous. You'd think it would be easier, but it's just different. It requires many of the same skills, but mostly it requires patience and compassion.....listening to the same worries, same frustrations, and same feelings of insecurity and unworthiness day after day (after day after day after day......) There are some nights when TK starts talking about her day and the seemingly endless drama with a particular classmate that I want to put the pillow over my head and scream, because I've heard it all a million times. One day I offered a solution (trauma fail!) and she called me on it immediately. "Mom, I don't want your suggestions, I just want you to listen!" Letting our TKs work out their challenges can be exhausting, because it can take so long for them to get to a place of regulation where they can even BEGIN to think about solutions. Staying in that place of compassion and just hearing them often takes every iota of patience you have (and a few you have to mortgage from tomorrow). They do eventually get to problem-solving, but, as always, you have to get through the trauma junk first - the "everyone hates me, I'm not likable/lovable, I'm stupid, everyone thinks everything is always my fault". I realize these are easily attributable to tween angst as well, but the TK takes them to the most illogical conclusion so rapidly it makes your head spin. "I got in an argument with a friend today" turns into "I'll never have a friend again and everyone hates me; I have been totally rejected" in a minute or less. And everyone around them is stunned when they go off the deep end and start screaming over a "silly argument". They don't realize that your TK is now convinced they are totally rejected and alone. Normal tween angst doesn't end in that conclusion.
We haven't cracked the nut on how to handle this new manifestion of trauma. I'm working on building a new toolbox. It will contain those all purpose tools of compassion and listening, and we've added in meditation. TK still has many nights where she feels like she's going to throw up (though she hasn't in a while, so I guess we're making progress), and every so often she will even wake up in the middle of the night feeling that way, so obviously we haven't found the complete tool-set yet. And maybe we won't, and I'll do my best to be okay with that. As I keep reminding myself, Heather Forbes says, "Sometimes the growth is in the struggle." I find it harder to watch TK struggle this way than the nuclear meltdowns (and we had one of those tonight....so I have a legit comparison!).
I am so grateful for the grace that has taken us to the point where TK communicates openly and freely. Find your successes and claim the grace in them, Trauma Mamas. You'll need them on this changing, challenging journey.
As for the epic meltdown/trauma flashback....well that gives me something to blog about tomorrow.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
What is WRONG with her/you?
I've heard this question a few times over the last few weeks. "What is wrong with her? Is it ADD/ADHD/RAD?" No, it's Trauma. It may manifest itself as other things, but the "problem" is trauma, plain and simple.
At times it looks like ADD. When TK is stressed, she cannot focus. A brain that is scared cannot apply logic/focus/rational thinking.
At times it looks like ADHD. TK regulates through movement, so when she is overwhelmed/dysregulated, she will jump/walk/wiggle. We have been on the trampoline between 3-5 times every day for the last week. I know TK is dysregulated. This constant need for motion is a huge indicator of dysregulation.
At times it looks like RAD. When TK is really dysregulated, she will reject everyone around her. This is typical TK behavior - I will reject you before you reject me. This is NOT RAD, it's survival. In our case I have learned that almost EVERY meltdown we have goes back to TK thinking she is being rejected. Spelling words shredded? TK's thought process was likely this: "Now she will think I'm stupid because I got two words in a row wrong. I AM stupid because I got two words wrong. I'm too stupid to be loved. I am not lovable. I am not loved."
So what is "wrong" with her is that no one picked her up more than once a day for the first year of her life. What is "wrong"with her is how she was treated in an eastern European orphanage and what happened to her there (which I try not to think about). What is "wrong" with her is that she cried for hours and no one comforted her. What is "wrong" with her is people who stand in judgment and do their best to make her feel "less than". What is wrong with her? Nothing. She is strong and courageous and resilient and compassionate.
The follow on to this question is "what is wrong with you? How can you let her talk to that way/kick you/tear up her work/interrupt/hang on you?" This is not really a question; it's judgment. But I always answer the same way. "This is how we deal with trauma. It works for us."
What is "wrong" with me is I have fought this war against trauma for 6 years with no break. What is "wrong" with me is I will not sacrifice our family's peace and growth to meet your ideas of what is "right". What is "wrong" with me is I will sacrifice my friendships if that's what is needed to keep TK safe. What is wrong with me? Nothing, I am strong and courageous and resilient and compassionate.....just like my daughter.
At times it looks like ADD. When TK is stressed, she cannot focus. A brain that is scared cannot apply logic/focus/rational thinking.
At times it looks like ADHD. TK regulates through movement, so when she is overwhelmed/dysregulated, she will jump/walk/wiggle. We have been on the trampoline between 3-5 times every day for the last week. I know TK is dysregulated. This constant need for motion is a huge indicator of dysregulation.
At times it looks like RAD. When TK is really dysregulated, she will reject everyone around her. This is typical TK behavior - I will reject you before you reject me. This is NOT RAD, it's survival. In our case I have learned that almost EVERY meltdown we have goes back to TK thinking she is being rejected. Spelling words shredded? TK's thought process was likely this: "Now she will think I'm stupid because I got two words in a row wrong. I AM stupid because I got two words wrong. I'm too stupid to be loved. I am not lovable. I am not loved."
So what is "wrong" with her is that no one picked her up more than once a day for the first year of her life. What is "wrong"with her is how she was treated in an eastern European orphanage and what happened to her there (which I try not to think about). What is "wrong" with her is that she cried for hours and no one comforted her. What is "wrong" with her is people who stand in judgment and do their best to make her feel "less than". What is wrong with her? Nothing. She is strong and courageous and resilient and compassionate.
The follow on to this question is "what is wrong with you? How can you let her talk to that way/kick you/tear up her work/interrupt/hang on you?" This is not really a question; it's judgment. But I always answer the same way. "This is how we deal with trauma. It works for us."
What is "wrong" with me is I have fought this war against trauma for 6 years with no break. What is "wrong" with me is I will not sacrifice our family's peace and growth to meet your ideas of what is "right". What is "wrong" with me is I will sacrifice my friendships if that's what is needed to keep TK safe. What is wrong with me? Nothing, I am strong and courageous and resilient and compassionate.....just like my daughter.
Feelings, whoa whoa whoa feelings......
A little 80's (or maybe 70's?)flashback for you to start this entry.
TK (Trauma Kid for my newcomer readers) really hurt my feelings this weekend. (More on the specifics of that later.) At first I mentally told myself to get over it; I'm 52 years old for heaven's sake. Then I stopped and thought about how often TK and I talk about her feelings. I always tell her she is allowed to feel however she feels, but how she reacts to those feelings is the key - and the challenge. I realize that as Trauma Mamas/Trauma Dads/Trauma Caregivers we often discount our own feelings. We are so focused on what our TKs are feeling that we forget to look at our feelings and accept them as neither good nor bad, just real. It's real that we are at times exhausted/depleted/frustrated/sad and yes, even angry. It's real that we are resentful/jealous and did I mention exhausted? We are so busy dealing with our TKs' emotions that we don't put much stock in ours. Just like our TKs, we have the right to our feelings. They are valid and warranted and not at all "bad". It is our feelings that make us the warrior Mamas/Dads/Caregivers that we are. Feelings of love and compassion move us forward past the hurt/anger/sadness and into that place of grace and growth.
On to specifics....
Something surprising happened this morning and I yelped, "Oh my gosh!" (We don't say that in our family. We say "oh my goodness" or "oh my word"). TK immediately reprimanded me and smacked my arm. (TK is now 5'3" and 109 pounds, so when she doesn't hold back and swings full on, it hurts.) Being in that place of depletion and exhaustion mentioned above, I didn't react in full on Trauma Mama mode. I also didn't go fully into reactive mode (yea for me).....I shot down the middle. I immediately barked, "We do NOT hit in this family. I do not hit you and you do NOT hit me!" She huffed, "Sorry" and stomped off to her room. I was fuming and decided to walk the dog and cool off. I stuck my head in her room to tell her what I was doing.
I returned about 20 minutes later, a bit cooler headed but honestly still pretty peeved. I took a deep breath and went to talk with TK. I told her she was allowed to be angry but she needed a different way to express that anger. She went into scared trauma mode and started listing her grievances. This was pretty much a rehash of the night before. I was smart enough to recognize that there was something deeper going on here, but I wasn't in a mental spot to take it on. So I let it slide. At the end she said, "Sometimes I'm just sick and tired of you!" (Thus the hurt feelings mentioned above). I told her I was going to go in the other room for a bit. (Yes, I went to sulk.) I wasn't honestly sure how to address this, and I knew some of it was puberty (that really should be a four letter word!). People often ask me how I know if her "trauma moments" are from trauma or puberty. I've decided it doesn't matter. Fear is fear, no matter what the cause, so I address it as if it's trauma driven. That seems to work for us (most of the time).
Later TK and I went to the bookstore to buy some gifts for a family party. On the way there she apologized for "being mean" and told me she was scared about a lot of little things. None of them are a big deal, but the combo is overwhelming to her tween mind.
We managed to recalibrate and make the rest of the day happy, silly, and relatively peaceful. I love that about us. We are both willing to admit we goofed up and move past it. Honestly some days she does it better than I do. I love seeing that grace in action.
You give your TKs the grace to feel what they feel and not always respond appropriately; give yourself the same grace. Acknowledge ALL your feelings. Recognize they don't control you, but they might just inspire you. Or they may just make you want to pull the covers over your head and cry - and that's okay too. Hang tough, Trauma Mamas.
TK (Trauma Kid for my newcomer readers) really hurt my feelings this weekend. (More on the specifics of that later.) At first I mentally told myself to get over it; I'm 52 years old for heaven's sake. Then I stopped and thought about how often TK and I talk about her feelings. I always tell her she is allowed to feel however she feels, but how she reacts to those feelings is the key - and the challenge. I realize that as Trauma Mamas/Trauma Dads/Trauma Caregivers we often discount our own feelings. We are so focused on what our TKs are feeling that we forget to look at our feelings and accept them as neither good nor bad, just real. It's real that we are at times exhausted/depleted/frustrated/sad and yes, even angry. It's real that we are resentful/jealous and did I mention exhausted? We are so busy dealing with our TKs' emotions that we don't put much stock in ours. Just like our TKs, we have the right to our feelings. They are valid and warranted and not at all "bad". It is our feelings that make us the warrior Mamas/Dads/Caregivers that we are. Feelings of love and compassion move us forward past the hurt/anger/sadness and into that place of grace and growth.
On to specifics....
Something surprising happened this morning and I yelped, "Oh my gosh!" (We don't say that in our family. We say "oh my goodness" or "oh my word"). TK immediately reprimanded me and smacked my arm. (TK is now 5'3" and 109 pounds, so when she doesn't hold back and swings full on, it hurts.) Being in that place of depletion and exhaustion mentioned above, I didn't react in full on Trauma Mama mode. I also didn't go fully into reactive mode (yea for me).....I shot down the middle. I immediately barked, "We do NOT hit in this family. I do not hit you and you do NOT hit me!" She huffed, "Sorry" and stomped off to her room. I was fuming and decided to walk the dog and cool off. I stuck my head in her room to tell her what I was doing.
I returned about 20 minutes later, a bit cooler headed but honestly still pretty peeved. I took a deep breath and went to talk with TK. I told her she was allowed to be angry but she needed a different way to express that anger. She went into scared trauma mode and started listing her grievances. This was pretty much a rehash of the night before. I was smart enough to recognize that there was something deeper going on here, but I wasn't in a mental spot to take it on. So I let it slide. At the end she said, "Sometimes I'm just sick and tired of you!" (Thus the hurt feelings mentioned above). I told her I was going to go in the other room for a bit. (Yes, I went to sulk.) I wasn't honestly sure how to address this, and I knew some of it was puberty (that really should be a four letter word!). People often ask me how I know if her "trauma moments" are from trauma or puberty. I've decided it doesn't matter. Fear is fear, no matter what the cause, so I address it as if it's trauma driven. That seems to work for us (most of the time).
Later TK and I went to the bookstore to buy some gifts for a family party. On the way there she apologized for "being mean" and told me she was scared about a lot of little things. None of them are a big deal, but the combo is overwhelming to her tween mind.
We managed to recalibrate and make the rest of the day happy, silly, and relatively peaceful. I love that about us. We are both willing to admit we goofed up and move past it. Honestly some days she does it better than I do. I love seeing that grace in action.
You give your TKs the grace to feel what they feel and not always respond appropriately; give yourself the same grace. Acknowledge ALL your feelings. Recognize they don't control you, but they might just inspire you. Or they may just make you want to pull the covers over your head and cry - and that's okay too. Hang tough, Trauma Mamas.
Sunday, January 24, 2016
The voices in my head
One of the benefits of going through challenges is that you learn, gain perspective, and are, at least in theory, better able to handle the next challenge that arises. Having been in the trauma trenches for 6 years, I've had the chance to gain perspective, but I haven't had the advantage of sitting back, saying, "Well that sucked", examining what I would do differently the next time and moving on to the next challenge. This challenge doesn't really give you that pause, so you find yourself analyzing and adjusting on the fly. Yes, there are definitely times when things are pretty calm, but I admit I don't yet have complete peace in those times. While I'm not walking on eggshells as I did in our earlier trauma phases, I still am highly vigilant because I know the trauma monster is still under the bed, waiting to come out and wreak some havoc.
Inevitably I start to analyze what isn't working - specifically how I've goofed up - when I'm sitting next to my girl after a meltdown, trying to breathe in and impart peace and compassion. I'll get back to this in a minute, but first, as usual, I'll digress.
We had a remarkably good winter break. 19 days is a looooong time to be together with little break, but we had very few and very small trauma monster moments. This was exceptionally remarkable because we had some family drama that could have easily thrown TK into a tizzy. We banged heads a few times, but it was minor and could just as well be attributed to tweendom. Since the break we've had illness, snow days, work days, and basically no down time for mom. This means I have to dig even harder to stay in a place of compassion when TK goes into trauma mode, and inevitably this is the time she will.
Yesterday she was upstairs working on a "special project" for over an hour. She brought it downstairs to present it to me. It was a banner made of individual pages hung on a string. Each page had one letter and it said "Don't let anyone dull your sparkle." Well, that was what it was meant to say. She had the third and fourth letters out of order. She went into full on trauma mode, crumpled and tore it up and threw it out the front door. Then she grabbed a sticker out of a sticker book and put it on my arm, yelling, "Here. Here's your present now!" I dig through my mental inventory and came up with......nothing. I just said, "I am so sorry that didn't work. I appreciate how much time you put into it and I know you're really frustrated." Then I just got quiet and puttered around, picking up things. She went into her room and slammed the door. I will tell you that after 6 years I still never know if I'm supposed to go through that door or not. The rules change every day, it seems. If I go she'll often yell at me to go away. If I don't go she'll often yell through the door, "It would be nice if someone would check on me!"
Later that day she sat next to me and said very softly, "Mom, I don't know why I got so mad. I'm really sorry." All was well.......until........fast forward to 3 AM. TK comes into my room and says she had a nightmare. I jump out of bed to turn her back to her bedroom, and she is ticked. She wants to sleep in my bed. Nope, not happening. I find it nearly impossible to sleep with her restless, nearly adult size body thrashing around in my bed, and I am not willing to sacrifice my sleep right now. I am already running on empty after the break, snow days, etc. I walk her back to her room and she is steaming. I turn on her sound machine and she slaps it off. I sit on the floor and start patting her.
As I'm patting her the voices in my head start analyzing all the things I've done wrong with her. Not self-flagellation, just the realization that certain things didn't necessarily turn out to my favor in the long run.. For example, TK has really never had a babysitter. She had such huge trust issues when she was younger that I just never went anywhere. As she got older, she had a select few people she felt safe with, and I never pushed beyond that comfort zone. A dear friend is getting married this spring and we were discussing her bachelorette party the other day. Last night as I sat on the floor patting this angry tween (who was still huffing and flipping and expressing her displeasure as many ways as possible without words), I realized I couldn't go to the bachelorette party because who would watch TK? Then I wondered if my approach to making her feel safe was really the best answer. Perhaps making her world so small was too limiting. The balance of what she needs in the moment with what I need is ridiculously hard, and I've always chosen her needs. It wasn't totally altruistic, because addressing her needs made our life calmer and our family much happier. But as we venture further down this road, I sometimes wonder how to move out of the place of "TK first". She has a much improved ability to self-regulate, and the challenge now is knowing how far to push her. I utterly believe that pushing your comfort zone is the key to amazing growth, but pushing hers too far has dire consequences. The thought of getting back into full trauma mode is enough to turn my knees to jelly, but I will continue to try to walk that fine line between TK being uncomfortable and TK being dysregulated.
Send me some grace as I grapple with this. Take a minute and let yourself say, "Well, this sucks." Then tell the voices in your head to just hush and give yourself some grace as you think about what didn't work so well. Because the truth, Trauma Mamas, is we are all totally making this up as we go along, and for the most part we do pretty well. Given the beast we are fighting, I'd say pretty well is amazing.
Inevitably I start to analyze what isn't working - specifically how I've goofed up - when I'm sitting next to my girl after a meltdown, trying to breathe in and impart peace and compassion. I'll get back to this in a minute, but first, as usual, I'll digress.
We had a remarkably good winter break. 19 days is a looooong time to be together with little break, but we had very few and very small trauma monster moments. This was exceptionally remarkable because we had some family drama that could have easily thrown TK into a tizzy. We banged heads a few times, but it was minor and could just as well be attributed to tweendom. Since the break we've had illness, snow days, work days, and basically no down time for mom. This means I have to dig even harder to stay in a place of compassion when TK goes into trauma mode, and inevitably this is the time she will.
Yesterday she was upstairs working on a "special project" for over an hour. She brought it downstairs to present it to me. It was a banner made of individual pages hung on a string. Each page had one letter and it said "Don't let anyone dull your sparkle." Well, that was what it was meant to say. She had the third and fourth letters out of order. She went into full on trauma mode, crumpled and tore it up and threw it out the front door. Then she grabbed a sticker out of a sticker book and put it on my arm, yelling, "Here. Here's your present now!" I dig through my mental inventory and came up with......nothing. I just said, "I am so sorry that didn't work. I appreciate how much time you put into it and I know you're really frustrated." Then I just got quiet and puttered around, picking up things. She went into her room and slammed the door. I will tell you that after 6 years I still never know if I'm supposed to go through that door or not. The rules change every day, it seems. If I go she'll often yell at me to go away. If I don't go she'll often yell through the door, "It would be nice if someone would check on me!"
Later that day she sat next to me and said very softly, "Mom, I don't know why I got so mad. I'm really sorry." All was well.......until........fast forward to 3 AM. TK comes into my room and says she had a nightmare. I jump out of bed to turn her back to her bedroom, and she is ticked. She wants to sleep in my bed. Nope, not happening. I find it nearly impossible to sleep with her restless, nearly adult size body thrashing around in my bed, and I am not willing to sacrifice my sleep right now. I am already running on empty after the break, snow days, etc. I walk her back to her room and she is steaming. I turn on her sound machine and she slaps it off. I sit on the floor and start patting her.
As I'm patting her the voices in my head start analyzing all the things I've done wrong with her. Not self-flagellation, just the realization that certain things didn't necessarily turn out to my favor in the long run.. For example, TK has really never had a babysitter. She had such huge trust issues when she was younger that I just never went anywhere. As she got older, she had a select few people she felt safe with, and I never pushed beyond that comfort zone. A dear friend is getting married this spring and we were discussing her bachelorette party the other day. Last night as I sat on the floor patting this angry tween (who was still huffing and flipping and expressing her displeasure as many ways as possible without words), I realized I couldn't go to the bachelorette party because who would watch TK? Then I wondered if my approach to making her feel safe was really the best answer. Perhaps making her world so small was too limiting. The balance of what she needs in the moment with what I need is ridiculously hard, and I've always chosen her needs. It wasn't totally altruistic, because addressing her needs made our life calmer and our family much happier. But as we venture further down this road, I sometimes wonder how to move out of the place of "TK first". She has a much improved ability to self-regulate, and the challenge now is knowing how far to push her. I utterly believe that pushing your comfort zone is the key to amazing growth, but pushing hers too far has dire consequences. The thought of getting back into full trauma mode is enough to turn my knees to jelly, but I will continue to try to walk that fine line between TK being uncomfortable and TK being dysregulated.
Send me some grace as I grapple with this. Take a minute and let yourself say, "Well, this sucks." Then tell the voices in your head to just hush and give yourself some grace as you think about what didn't work so well. Because the truth, Trauma Mamas, is we are all totally making this up as we go along, and for the most part we do pretty well. Given the beast we are fighting, I'd say pretty well is amazing.
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
"It doesn't happen that often"
I've been pondering something that happened today, and I'm not honestly sure how I feel about it, so I may meander in my blogging as I think this through.
To set the stage: TK and I were out with a (new) friend today. After about 2 hours of ice skating/arcade/hanging we headed to Culver's to get some ice cream. As we were all getting ready to leave, my friend said to TK, "It was nice to meet you." TK said nothing. I know she has better manners than this, so I nudged, whispering (she was in my lap) "And....". She looked at me, turned to my friend and said, "Not really." I popped into reactive mom mode and quickly said, "You know that is not the appropriate response. Try again with the right response. 'Nice to meet you too' is sufficient." She muttered it, rather rudely. I called her on it again, and she flung her arm back and her hand hit my face. She may not have been aiming for my face, but she meant to make contact.
I can, once out of the moment, understand it. I embarrassed her in front of someone (new, worse yet), which immediately triggered her trauma brain into thinking "this person will think I'm stupid/bad/not lovable"'; "Mom will think I'm stupid/bad/unlovable"; "I AM stupid/bad/unlovable." Yes, it really does move from something inconsequential to complete rejection that quickly in a TK's brain.
My friend wasn't nearly as appalled as she might have been. She was surprised (I wasn't) to see TK try to hit me. I have had many people be appalled on my behalf. Perhaps I should be more appalled. Internally I am......my brain jumps into the "how dare you disrespect your mom" mode, but I do my best to externally stay out of that reactive place with her. And most people think my lack of of reaction is condoning her behavior. Rest assured, she knows it's not okay. She came to me tonight and apologized (a heartfelt apology) for being rude and hitting me. She tried to downplay it by saying, "I didn't mean to hit you, I just wanted you to stop talking." I called her on that, but gently. "Yes, you did mean to hit me because you were embarrassed and angry. You know that's not okay. We need to find a better way to tell me I'm embarrassing you. Maybe we can come up with a signal you can use." TK agreed to think about it. I'm sure we'll come up with something.
So I'm sitting here wondering why I'm not more appalled when she hits/kicks/is rude. It's not because I think it's okay. It may be partly because compared to what used to happen, this is nothing. It may be because (to give myself credit) I know being appalled doesn't solve anything. Reacting in the moment doesn't solve anything. Expressing how hurt and embarrassed I am in that moment doesn't solve anything.
I remind myself that not reacting to behavior doesn't mean accepting it. TK has reached the point of maturity where she will, without prompting, feel regret and apologize for her loss of control. I DO wish I could wave a magic wand or just yell "You can't DO that!" and it would stop. Sadly that won't work. What works is what has worked so far.....consistent, unfailing love, analyzing the behavior after everyone is calm, discussing new alternatives, and being grateful that we are making progress.
I had a friend tell me I was just making excuses for TK by saying it didn't happen that often. I told her that statement was more for me than anyone else. I remember the time when massive meltdowns with things being thrown (at me and in general), hitting, screaming, and slamming doors happened multiple times in a day. The fact that TK has much more control over her emotions and actions is a victory that cannot be understated. It has taken us years of tears, prayers, and brutally hard work to get to this place where "it doesn't happen that often", so I will celebrate that. I will celebrate even more when we get to the place where "that never happens anymore." I believe we will get there.
So grant me the grace of compassion when you see TK lose it. It is a journey, and yes, we have come miles down the healing road. But the journey is long, and there will be setbacks on the way. I expect them, but they often still surprise me. I don't welcome them, but I know we will come out the other side. I promise to grant you the same grace when your TK comes undone. You will see it in my compassionate smile and my nod to you that says, "Hang in there, Trauma Mama, you are doing a great job." Know I am not making judgments about how "I can't believe you're letting your TK get away with that." There are plenty of others who will make those judgments, and many of them will share that with you. Try to extend grace to those who proffer those opinions, knowing they don't understand the healing process for TKs.
Sending you grace for your moments, whether they "don't happen that often" or you're still in the walking on eggshells mode. Try to ignore the folks who tell you you're enabling bad behavior, letting your TK rule the roost, etc. Parenting a TK is a different journey than parenting a non-TK. Trauma healing is truly the journey of a lifetime. There's no map and you will often feel lost, but you keep on going because the destination is beautiful.
To set the stage: TK and I were out with a (new) friend today. After about 2 hours of ice skating/arcade/hanging we headed to Culver's to get some ice cream. As we were all getting ready to leave, my friend said to TK, "It was nice to meet you." TK said nothing. I know she has better manners than this, so I nudged, whispering (she was in my lap) "And....". She looked at me, turned to my friend and said, "Not really." I popped into reactive mom mode and quickly said, "You know that is not the appropriate response. Try again with the right response. 'Nice to meet you too' is sufficient." She muttered it, rather rudely. I called her on it again, and she flung her arm back and her hand hit my face. She may not have been aiming for my face, but she meant to make contact.
I can, once out of the moment, understand it. I embarrassed her in front of someone (new, worse yet), which immediately triggered her trauma brain into thinking "this person will think I'm stupid/bad/not lovable"'; "Mom will think I'm stupid/bad/unlovable"; "I AM stupid/bad/unlovable." Yes, it really does move from something inconsequential to complete rejection that quickly in a TK's brain.
My friend wasn't nearly as appalled as she might have been. She was surprised (I wasn't) to see TK try to hit me. I have had many people be appalled on my behalf. Perhaps I should be more appalled. Internally I am......my brain jumps into the "how dare you disrespect your mom" mode, but I do my best to externally stay out of that reactive place with her. And most people think my lack of of reaction is condoning her behavior. Rest assured, she knows it's not okay. She came to me tonight and apologized (a heartfelt apology) for being rude and hitting me. She tried to downplay it by saying, "I didn't mean to hit you, I just wanted you to stop talking." I called her on that, but gently. "Yes, you did mean to hit me because you were embarrassed and angry. You know that's not okay. We need to find a better way to tell me I'm embarrassing you. Maybe we can come up with a signal you can use." TK agreed to think about it. I'm sure we'll come up with something.
So I'm sitting here wondering why I'm not more appalled when she hits/kicks/is rude. It's not because I think it's okay. It may be partly because compared to what used to happen, this is nothing. It may be because (to give myself credit) I know being appalled doesn't solve anything. Reacting in the moment doesn't solve anything. Expressing how hurt and embarrassed I am in that moment doesn't solve anything.
I remind myself that not reacting to behavior doesn't mean accepting it. TK has reached the point of maturity where she will, without prompting, feel regret and apologize for her loss of control. I DO wish I could wave a magic wand or just yell "You can't DO that!" and it would stop. Sadly that won't work. What works is what has worked so far.....consistent, unfailing love, analyzing the behavior after everyone is calm, discussing new alternatives, and being grateful that we are making progress.
I had a friend tell me I was just making excuses for TK by saying it didn't happen that often. I told her that statement was more for me than anyone else. I remember the time when massive meltdowns with things being thrown (at me and in general), hitting, screaming, and slamming doors happened multiple times in a day. The fact that TK has much more control over her emotions and actions is a victory that cannot be understated. It has taken us years of tears, prayers, and brutally hard work to get to this place where "it doesn't happen that often", so I will celebrate that. I will celebrate even more when we get to the place where "that never happens anymore." I believe we will get there.
So grant me the grace of compassion when you see TK lose it. It is a journey, and yes, we have come miles down the healing road. But the journey is long, and there will be setbacks on the way. I expect them, but they often still surprise me. I don't welcome them, but I know we will come out the other side. I promise to grant you the same grace when your TK comes undone. You will see it in my compassionate smile and my nod to you that says, "Hang in there, Trauma Mama, you are doing a great job." Know I am not making judgments about how "I can't believe you're letting your TK get away with that." There are plenty of others who will make those judgments, and many of them will share that with you. Try to extend grace to those who proffer those opinions, knowing they don't understand the healing process for TKs.
Sending you grace for your moments, whether they "don't happen that often" or you're still in the walking on eggshells mode. Try to ignore the folks who tell you you're enabling bad behavior, letting your TK rule the roost, etc. Parenting a TK is a different journey than parenting a non-TK. Trauma healing is truly the journey of a lifetime. There's no map and you will often feel lost, but you keep on going because the destination is beautiful.
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