#TBT on a Tuesday

As I was patting TK to sleep after another tumultuous night, it occurred to me that I have forgotten some things.

I'd forgotten how, when TK is REALLY dysregulated, she hates everything. 
I'd forgotten how she loses impulse control and blurts out things that are not nice.
I'd forgotten that the most innocent comment from me is viewed as a personal attack.
I'd forgotten how to deal with torn homework, 1000 decibel screaming, and the defeatist attitude.

Some things should stay forgotten.

It's no surprise that TK's transition to middle school has been bumpy, but we had seemingly hit a groove (mostly) until two weeks ago.  That's when the talk about "quarterly exams" started.  That's when the quarterly study guides started coming home. That's when TK started getting overwhelmed.

We had a rough night two weeks ago when I seemingly lost all my trauma mama skills. After TK was asleep, I regrouped, and I wrote this and left it on her pillow.

First I want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry I haven’t been really listening with my heart and have just been listening with my ears lately. I’m sorry that you feel like I think you’re not capable or good enough or smart enough.  Because you are. You are enough. 

Thank you for talking with me last night and letting me know how you feel. Thank you for letting me try again so I remembered to listen with my heart and not just my ears.  I am so glad you  gave me that chance for a re-do so I could get it right.

I am so proud of you. You are courageous and smart and compassionate and kind and a hard worker.  Every day I am amazed at who you are becoming.   I am so proud of how you take your problems to someone who can help you, and so proud of how you talk to your teachers and friends when you have a problem or something is bothering you.  There are a lot of adults who can’t do that.  That takes tremendous self control and courage.

You are so much more than your grades.  Your grades are great, and you put way too much pressure on yourself about them. You were partly right when you said I don’t care if you fail…..I don’t care if you get a bad grade nearly as much as I care about you being happy.  I want you to do well because that makes you happy, but I truly am proud of whatever grade you get because you worked so hard for it.

I am sorry I don’t say more often how proud I am of you. I will do better.  I am so proud of you – always, and I love you more than I can ever put into words.  Nothing in this whole world makes me happier than being your mom. 

She actually hung that on her wall.  Score one for Trauma Mama regroup.

Now hang a left with me.......TK's school has been unwilling to put a 504 in place for her dysgraphia and trauma because, and I quote, "She is doing so well she doesn't need one."  The teachers have been really good about making accommodations, and so far the homework and tests have been spaced out enough that we have managed to get through it with only random spates of drama.  I  have been frustrated by the inability to get a 504 but was comfortable with the teachers' efforts.  

That changed. The last two weeks we have slowly and inexorably gone off the rails.  Tonight was the massive derailment.  Two things were the catalyst.

 - TK's teachers use google classroom.  TK had a sub in a class and the sub didn't explain the work the same way as the teacher.  TK wrote a comment on google classroom about the sub not doing it right. The teacher called her out in front of the class.  This is (or was)  her favorite teacher, so this was a huge rejection.  As she was working on the homework for that class tonight (which she didn't understand), TK lost it. She crumpled her homework, threw it across the room and screamed, "I'll just flunk this class. And I'll bet the teacher will stand up and clap!"    (This teacher has gone way above and beyond for TK, so this was just the rejection talking.)  

 - TK had her science quarterly exam today. She had studied for hours over the last three days and was confident. She got a 77.  She was devastated.  She figured all that hard work was useless.......therefore,  (follow the trauma logic) she was stupid, she was going to fail school, everyone hates a failure, her teachers all hate her, she'll quit school and have no friends and "go to clown college".  

As she had been screaming for about 45 minutes at this point, I was well out of my trauma mama space.  So I yelled back (trauma mama fail).  She stormed out of the room; I sat and tried to silence my brain and tune into my heart, said a few prayers, took a million deep breaths, and waited.  (Oh, and I emailed the relevant people at school to tell them we were meeting next week about a 504.)

After 10 minutes, TK came back in the room, still crying (but not screaming, so we were making progress). She asked me why I was happy about her bad grade.  I told her she was so much more than a grade, and I was happy she had tried so hard, and I know it sucks to try hard and not have it pay off.  But it doesn't make you less valuable, or less smart, or less loved.  Knowing TK, that will simmer in her brain for a while and hopefully take root.

We went out to the trampoline and bounced away our dysregulation.  Or at least she bounced away hers.  Mine is still there, but there are a lot of other factors feeding mine right now.

I am frustrated with how difficult it is to get into full on trauma mama mode right now. On one hand, it's great because it means I'm out of practice. On the other hand, I know this stuff, I explain this stuff to other people, and I should be able to kick into it quickly and easily.

Luckily even after a monster meltdown, TK still finds the grace to apologize and thank me for listening.  And I find the grace (albeit with a struggle tonight) to apologize back for yelling and remind her how very much I love her. And we both get a re-do.

Going backwards is the pits.  Working hard and not getting the result you want (be that a grade or a regulated kid) is the pits.  The fact that the trauma battle is ongoing is the pits.   So sometimes you will be in the pit, Trauma Mamas.  Grab on to the grace of re-dos and TKs who are trying so hard, the grace of teachers and administrators who help (and try to give the ones who don't their own re-do). It's okay when you screw it up - you will. Sometimes our own crud gets in the way of being a fully present trauma mama, and that's okay.  Give yourself the grace of a re-do too. 

The (not so) golden oldies - and a remix

I had a blast from the past tonight.  There were, of course, multiple factors.

Yesterday as I was waiting for TK to get home, I got a text from her saying the bus driver missed the stop and she'd be late. 

When TK came in from school (just 5 minutes late), she said, "What a crazy day.  Mrs. X passed out in class!  She sent me to get the teacher across the hall." (It turns out Mrs. X had only been lightheaded and laid on the floor so she wouldn't pass out.) I asked her how the bus driver missed the stop and TK said some kids were "acting stupid so the bus driver yelled at them and drove through our stop. It wasn't a big deal."

TK had a rough time getting settled for bed last night, which was no surprise.  It was a drama free night, which WAS a surprise.

Today when TK got home she said she only had one math problem for homework. (She had done the rest in study focus with her math teacher).  I figured we had smooth sailing in front of us.  You'd think!  TK got her snack and wanted to get right to her homework.  She asked for my help and I tried to explain how to approach the problem. She yelled that they hadn't learned it yet and I wasn't helping because I didn't explain stuff the right way.  I got ticked, told her I did NOT appreciate her attitude, and went into a different room to cool off.  (I know, I know, overreact much, Mom?)   A few minutes later she asked if we could go upstairs (to the bonus room) to study for her vocabulary test.  (Studying consists of defining a word, then playing volleyball for 1 minute, repeat.)  In my head I said, "You MUST be kidding. No, I don't want to go upstairs. I want to sit here and act like I'm 4 and be angry."  But I said, "Sure."

When we got upstairs, TK said, "I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings, Mom."  I told her I wanted to explain why I got so upset.  "You probably don't remember because it was a few years ago, but when we would start homework we would frequently end up yelling at each other.  It happened so often that we didn't even like each other very much, and our family was really broken. We have worked so hard to be okay that it scares me if we fight over homework.  I am terrified of going back to where we were before."   TK thought on this for a minute, and said, "Mom, it won't go back like it was.  We're different now."   

That was a really mature and sweet comment.  In truth it only mildly assuaged my fear.  I know homework strife is a not uncommon part of middle school, but the memories of how broken we were are very much in my head, and I cannot just forget them. I am trying to live in faith and hope and not in fear, but this fear - the fear of our family every being that broken again - this fear is a monster.  

I am grateful for the grace of TK's confidence that we are different now.  I am searching for the grace enough to push aside the fear. I know we ARE different....I just want to stay that way.  

The Wonderful/Horrible/Maybe Okay/Maybe Awful/We Might Survive first 3 weeks of middle school

Oy.  There are not words to describe our first three weeks of middle school, but I will, of course, write a whole slew of them anyway.

The first week of middle school was great. Trauma Kid (TK) loved the bus, loved her teachers, was happy and calm.

The second week of middle school......weeeeeeeeelllllll, not so much.  She came home Mon screaming that a girl was calling her names.  She was slamming doors, throwing things, sobbing for hours on her bed, screaming Everyone hates me! I hate this stupid school!  ......basically reverting back to trauma behavior I haven't seen in years.    Tues afternoon was pretty much a carbon copy of Monday.  Wednesday about 1/2 hour before the bus arrived I got a call from a school administrator (heretofor noted as SA) wanting to discuss some "incidences" with TK - that basically involved TK screaming at other girls on the bus and in the hall.  She also picked up something another child dropped at lunch and put it in her lunchbox. I flipped when SA told me that - that 's a new behavior.  (Her counselor, when I told her, said, "Well, TK does gets handsy when she's nervous.")

We had to cut the conversation short as TK was walking in the door. 
Wednesday TK came into the house in full-on trauma mode  She ran to her room, kicking a few cats along the way and threw herself on her bed, weeping hysterically. Having been caught short by SA myself, I jumped on the catastrophe train.  In my head I was already looking at home school options, trying to figure out if she could handle going back to her old school and being the only girl there, trying to find a different small school.......I had already given up.  Trauma Mom epic fail.  At least I did this all internally and didn't voice it to TK.  

I sat next to her as she sobbed, my brain in full on panic mode, but externally calm.  When she finally calmed a little, she said that SA hated her.  I told her I expected SA had the role of being the bad cop, and I wondered if that was a hard job. TK admitted it might be.  She thought for a while and said maybe SA didn't hate her.  I was wise enough to stay quiet and let her work it out. I was still about 70% sure we were going to have to run away.  TK finally calmed down enough to go to volleyball practice.  Suffice to say I didn't even mention homework!  That evening I emailed SA to let her know TK thought she hated her and it would be good if she had time to seek out TK and try to start anew.  I told TK the same thing.

To my surprise and delight, SA emailed me Thurs AM to tell that TK had indeed walked into SA's office before school started and asked if they could walk and talk sometime that day. (I had told SA that TK regulates through movement, so walking and talking would probably be a better option than sitting across the table.)  They did indeed walk and talk.  More on that in a minute.

Thurs AM I had a conversation with a sweet friend who called me on my own trauma response.  He challenged my reaction, and pointed out that I was operating from fear just as TK was.  I realized that when threatened (real or imagined threat), TK goes into fight mode; I go into flight mode.  My friend challenged me to view the situation with the school/my upcoming meeting with SA not as a battle (which I very much was) but as an opportunity.  He was dead on.  I mulled on that quite a bit and was able to shift my mindset before my meeting with SA. It was a very good meeting. She seemed to understand trauma, at least somewhat, and took a lot of notes about what behaviors are "warning signs", how to deal with a trauma outbreak, and, most importantly, the need for "safe" people.  I was hopeful when I left.

TK came home Thursday and said, "SA really DOESN'T hate me. She just has to be the bad guy. We walked around the school and talked. Her office is right by my locker and I can go there anytime I need to breathe/take a break. She also told my teachers I was allowed to leave the room to take a short walk if I needed to. I think she's a good safe person. I also met the guidance counselors and they are good safe people too."  I can't even tell you how big my sigh of relief was.

SA also changed TK's schedule so she has study focus (basically study hall) for her last period. That replaced Spanish, which takes one more academic stress off and gives her time to work on her homework. It's with her favorite teacher, so bonus points.  

Things have been much calmer this week.  Homework remains a challenge.  The dysgraphia and the trauma combined make mental organization a challenge for her, but she is very resistant to my "help" when it comes to organizing her homework schedule. I am walking a fine line between letting her fail and making sure she doesn't feel like a failure.  

There was some girl drama this week with a friend who told TK to "go away, I'm mad at you."  TK was upset but rather than blow up at the girl she went to the guidance counselor and talked about it. She was still upset but in control.  I was blown away - she surprises me sometimes with her maturity. I told her how impressed I was by that. I think that could only happen because she has safe people at school now, for which I am beyond grateful.  

I got a bit less hopeful when I talked with one of the counseling staff about meeting with TK's teachers to share information about her trauma stuff, and she responded, "I talked to her teachers and she's doing great in all her classes. I don't think we need a meeting.  If something happens we'll certainly react to it."  I was so stunned I let it slide.....for now.  I'll approach it again in a bit.  

The majority of TK's teachers are amazing, willing to work with her and ensure her success.  There's one who is a little challenging, but TK and I agree that having just one is pretty good!

I am exhausted, but awash in grace..... the grace of a friend who loves me enough to challenge me to change my thinking, the grace of a courageous 11 year old who is rising above her fear, the grace of an SA who is taking time to work with one of the thousand kids at her school.

Take heart, trauma mamas.  I hope you have someone to challenge you when you devolve into fear.  Remember that even in your worst moments, you are healing your child and your family. And that, dear trauma mamas, is an amazing grace. 

It will be worth it in the long run, it will be worth it in the long run, it will be worth it.......

Soooooo, Trauma Kid (TK) took her big trip to Grandmom's to hang without Mom for a week - or so was the plan. In truth I had no expectation it would last that long, and I was correct. I'll get back to that.

I've had many people ask me in the last two weeks what the big deal was. Kids go stay with their grandparents all the time.  Surely my mom would keep her safe.  Yes, she absolutely would go the mat to keep TK physically safe.  The challenge is that "safe" is so much more to TK than just physical safety.  That is a part of it, but not the biggest part. "Safe" also means knowing someone "gets" her; recognizes when she is feeling overwhelmed and can intervene to help. "Safe" means knowing, incontrovertibly, that she will still be loved if she does come undone.  "Safe" means, quite honestly, knowing that she will be the most important thing for at least some part of the time she is with you.  I've seen an evolution in how she deals with not feeling safe, and I'm not sure it's a good one. She will now hide that she feels unsafe from everyone except me.....something for us to work on.  

So TK and Grandmom hopped on a plane on Monday, and I was to drive down 8 days later.  The first two days were a little rough but Grandmom kept her really busy, and we skyped (for 2 hours) every night.  The third night she got weepy but hung tough.  The fourth night (Thursday), she sobbed the entire time we skyped.  I had pretty much planned to head down on Saturday anyway (having a pretty realistic view of TK's ability to stretch her comfort zone). I figured Sat would be a few days past where she was comfortable and pushing past that, but just far enough, was the key. (It's totally a crap shoot on this walking the line deal, and I'm always just making my best guess.)

I made it down there Sat evening, and got the best greeting I've received from TK since she was 5 - flying across the parking lot to me, jumping in my arms.  She was velcro girl.....nearly desperate in her need for me. Thus the "it will pay off in the long run" title.  Her need for me was smothering (and still is).  I expected it, but the intensity surprised even me.  

Our dog got totally flipped out by the daily barrage of fireworks and had a nervous breakdown - all over the floor, rug upstairs, etc.  So we cut our trip short and headed home on Tuesday.  Since we've been home TK has been quite needy, though it has abated a small bit.  

I'm trusting that this will pay off.  I know stretching your comfort zone expands it, and sometimes even baby steps are huge.  The aftermath of this is exhausting for me, though, as she regains her sense of security and safety.  In spite of lots of advice from non-TK parents, I won't tell her "to just get over it", or enforce space between us (physical or emotional), or refuse to "baby her" by holding her hand until she falls asleep.  I will continue to explain trauma, and explain that when your TK regresses, you meet them where they are until they feel safe enough to come back to now.  Those regression moments are far fewer than they used to be, and usually occur at bedtime - a time fraught with challenge for most TKs.

On a sidebar, I've seen some things that are definite bright spots. TK is in drama camp right now, and has instantly reconnected with friends from last year.  I am always surprised and heartened by her ability to connect, and it bodes well for middle school (the stuff of nightmares!).  We saw a sign of children available for local adoption, and TK commented that we should look into that. We had a long talk about how that would change our family, and agreed to continue the conversation. I have always wanted to adopt more kids, but TK's challenges and needs outweighed the needs of another child waiting for a parent.  I don't know how this will play out, but I love that she has room in her heart to even contemplate it.

I'm struggling for grace, Trauma Mamas, so toss some my way.  I am mentally and physically exhausted from the travel, the drama, (cleaning up behind the dog's nervous breakdown!), and TK's overwhelming need for me. I am in that weird headspace where you wonder if you've made the right decisions regarding your TK, second-guess old decisions and play "what if".  But I know that is fruitless and the focus needs to return to moving forward.  It will.  

Sending you all grace for celebrating baby steps, expanding comfort zones, and ignoring the voices of those "helpful" folks who don't get your TKs.  Stay strong, Trauma Mamas.  You've got this!

Bewitched, bothered and bewildered

Well, maybe not the first one so much, but definitely the last two.....

Over the last two weeks, I've had a few people - some who know Trauma Kid (TK) well, some who don't  - tell me she seems anxious, short-tempered, hateful, rude, needy.  The bothersome part of this is that I'm a bit surprised by it, so I've been mulling on that tonight.  Have I become so inured to trauma behavior that it doesn't impact me anymore?  I don't think so.  I think, however, my expectations adjust in the summer.  And the reality is I see the behaviors that get those labels differently, and I forget that not everyone else does. We are blessed with friends who have become our family, and I forget that they have not been on this journey with us long enough to fully recognize or interpret trauma behaviors.  I forget that because they are so accepting of us, and I fail to realize they are surprised by trauma behaviors. Others have commented on TK's "antsiness", etc.  I consider all those inputs, feel like a failure for a time, get defensive, then simmer down and realize there is yet another opportunity for education, and a chance for me to examine my own perceptions about what is "normal" (within the scope of trauma) and adjust if needed.

Summer is notoriously difficult for trauma kids.  The lack of structure/predictability/bounded social interaction leaves them adrift, needing something they can't pinpoint, knowing they are "without", yet not knowing how to fill that emptiness. As a trauma mama, I can tell you that emptiness is filled largely by us. There is a clinginess and neediness in TK that I haven't seen in  a while, which is at war with the tween need for alone time and independence.  I see that struggle play out daily, and it is exhausting.  

So what is it that people are seeing that brings to mind terms like the ones above?  And, far more importantly, what is driving the behaviors they are seeing?  If you've been following my blog for a time, you already know the answer to that second question - fear.  But fear of what?

Some of it is that our new "family" is just that - new.  TK doesn't know how to operate in those auspices.  Our family has pretty much always just been the two of us, so having lots of other people means the scarcity mentality kicks in.  If you love them/pay attention to them, there is less for me.  I see that often driving behaviors that others deem bratty or rude.  And yes, those behaviors are exactly that - bratty and rude.  Yet I recognize they come from a place of fear of rejection, so I am more accepting of them.  I admit at times I am probably TOO accepting of them, choosing not to correct them in that moment, but discuss them later when we can collectively be calm and regulated.  And sometimes I decide it was a temporary reaction that settled quickly and I don't address it at all. Should I?  Maybe.  But I live in the "we have come so far from where we were when every day was a nightmare" that I look through the lens of gratitude that we're not still there, when I probably should look through the lens of what growth still needs to occur.  

This is a challenge for me.  I promised when I started the blog I would lay out the truth - ugly or not. So here is the ugly truth.  I get my feelings hurt (ridiculously, out of proportion hurt) and panic when people comment negatively on TK.  I immediately go into my own trauma space and deem my mothering skills a failure, certain everyone is listing my shortcomings.  That's my own trauma junk and has nothing to do with TK's, but it has everything to do with it at the same time.  I tend to withdraw, hunker down, and hide us until I feel like we have the latest trauma episode under control, because I don't want to subject her (and really, me) to that criticism/judgment (even though my rational brain knows it's more concern than criticism).  Interestingly (perversely?), this is when TK wants to go full out into the world. I, envisioning the trauma equivalent of Godzilla smashing Tokyo, do my best to control that desire. 

I know that isn't the right way to do it, because as my dear friend reminds me, "it takes a village and now you and TK have one." But in my head we really don't have a village/I don't fully trust the village - or how I interact in the village.  Because all our previous villages tarred and feathered us when the going got tough.  Because at the end of the day, it's TK and me.  I'm the one who "gets it"; I'm the "safe place"; I'm the one who is the shield and protector.  I'm the one who has poured the prayers and endless tears and energy into this healing, and I am so proud of how far we've come.  But it is very easy for me to fall back into fear, just as it is for TK.  For me the fear is also of rejection, but it more overwhelmingly the fear of going backward. When those who haven't been on this whole journey with us see us go backward, they panic.  And depending where I am in my own trauma headspace, sometimes I jump on the panic train.   I shouldn't care if we got backward, because the truth is we do go backward sometimes.....trauma healing is not linear.  In spite of that, when I step back and look at the whole journey, there has been tremendous growth and healing.  

On a total sidebar - TK is going to visit my mom for a while.....without me!  This was her idea and she is excited, but increasingly nervous as the date gets nearer.  Just her willingness to contemplate this is a tremendous step - and not something that would have occurred even 6 months ago.  I suspect there will only be a few days before she asks me to join her, but that's okay.  Her feeling confident/safe enough in her own ability to regulate without me nearby (because I'll be a 10 hour car drive away) is HUGE.  

So I'll give myself the grace of being proud of TK for her willingness to challenge herself. I'll also try to give myself grace for not being brave enough to totally trust our village, knowing there will be many more opportunities to grow that trust as we continue on our trauma journey.  

Give yourselves grace when you need to hunker. Remember you're on the trauma journey too, so be gentle with yourselves, Trauma Mamas. Progress isn't a straight line.  Accept (or try to) the concerns of those who support you for just that - concerns, a need to learn more, a desire to understand, and don't paint it as criticism or judgment (yep, I'm talking to myself here too).  You are amazing, Trauma Mamas.  Hold onto that when the fear comes creeping in.  Love wins.  Love. Wins.

Andra Day - Rise Up [Audio]

The Growth is in the Struggle

Heather Forbes says, "the growth is in the struggle."  We definitely had an opportunity for growth last night.

Trauma Kid (TK) went to middle school volleyball tryouts, nervous but (over)confident in her abilities.  I dropped her off, probably more nervous than she was. I picked her up 90 minutes later. As she walked toward the car she shook her head no. She looked like a thundercloud. I have learned not to ask questions when she looks like that, so I said nothing.  A few minutes into the car ride she told me she'd tripped and landed hard on her bum and it hurt so much that she couldn't hustle, so she didn't think she'd made it.

The list was posted 90 minutes later, so we drove back to the middle school to check out the results. I stayed in the car as TK looked.  She came back looking mad and upset, so I knew immediately.  She didn't say anything on the way home. I just said, "I'm so sorry. I know it hurts.  But you need to know that no one will be disappointed in you."  When we got home she slammed the car door, the door into the house, and the door to her room. I heard her in there hitting the wall and venting her anger, so I waited that part out. When I heard her start sobbing I knocked and asked if I could come in. She said no so I told her I'd be sitting in the hall by her door until she was ready for me to come in.  A few minutes later she told me to come in.  I sat by her bed and said nothing.  She ranted for a few minutes, then sobbed some more.  I asked her if I could hug her and she said no.  My heart broke for her and I shed many tears of my own as she sobbed.  After a few minutes she reached out for my hand. 

I waited to see what would happen.  I knew this was a heartbreak for her, and I wasn't sure if she had the skills to cope with that level of rejection.  This was a serious "growing in the struggle" moment. 

After about 30 minutes she was pretty calm. I asked her if she still wanted to go to public middle school now that she hadn't made the team. She said she did.  She asked if she could sleep in my bed because she was so sad and wanted to be close to me.

This morning she said, "I'm okay, Mom. I'm still sad and disappointed, but I'm okay."  That was a momentous moment in our trauma journey. TK had weathered a huge rejection and come out the other side - quickly and resolutely.  It was more than I expected, and I can't even express my pride and relief. 

Later I asked her why she didn't want me to hug her when she was so sad.  She said, "Mom, when I'm that upset it's like every part of me is super-sensitive, so having you hug me is just more pressure that I can't handle."  I knew she meant physical pressure, so I get it. I hate it, but I get it.  When I'm a sobbing mess I just want to fall in someone's arms and let them comfort me. But TK isn't me, and I have to respect her needs, even when it goes against every cell in my body.

This is one of those rare blessed moments when I can really see all the work, tears, prayers and re-dos working.  TK has amazing presence and is starting to gain resilience.  Talk about grace......I was awash in it today as I watched her TRULY be okay. 

Andra Day has this amazing song called "Rise Up."  I swear it is the anthem for Trauma Mamas (and Trauma Daddies and Trauma Caregivers).  I'll put the lyrics below if you want to read them, and I'll post the YouTube link in an immediate follow on post.  Whether you do or not, have faith, Trauma Mamas.  Your TK can gain resilience and learn to weather rejection without falling into despair.  If my TK can do it, yours can get there too. 

Sending you grace for the journey.  You will undoubtedly have to rise up a thousand times again, but you are strong. When you feel like you can't rise up one more time, I will send you strength and grace until you find your own. 


ANDRA DAY - RISE UP
You're broken down and tired of living life on a merry-go-round
And you can't find the fighter
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out and move mountains
We gonna walk it out and move mountains

And I'll rise up, I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up, I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again
And I'll rise up, high like the waves
I'll rise up, in spite of the ache
I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again
For you

When the silence isn't quiet and it feels like it's getting hard to breathe
And I know you feel like dying
But I promise we'll take the world to its feet and move mountains
Bring it to its feet and move mountains
And I'll rise up, I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up, I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again
For you

All we need, all we need is hope
And for that we have each other, and for that we have each other
We will rise, we will rise, we'll rise, we'll rise

I'll rise up, rise like the day
I'll rise up, in spite of the ache
I will rise a thousand times again
And we'll rise up, high like the waves
We'll rise up, in spite of the ache
We'll rise up, and we'll do it a thousand times again
For you