There are so many things I didn't know when I adopted a trauma kid. I'm not talking about the good stuff, like how this child fills a hole in your heart you didn't know existed, or how you feel you are part of a holy calling called parenthood, or the thousand sweet moments where you are sure your heart will burst with love. I'm talking about the "dark side:, the side when trauma rules, the side when it is far more challenging than you ever thought anything could be.
So here it is - the things I didn't know/ no one told me:
- How many nights I would spend crying -- because she was broken and I couldn't fix her; because changing the entire way you parent is exhausting; because yet one more friend has given up because it's too hard; because no matter how much you know it isn't aimed at you, hearing "God made a mistake when He made you my mom" still cuts to the quick; because sometimes it is just too damn much to handle alone.
- How many people I would have to try to convince that just because she's "doing fine" doesn't mean she is fine. It just means she has muscled together enough regulation for the moment. Unless you are there when the wheels come off because the regulation has all been used up, don't doubt the words of the people who live with the TKs.
- How lonely it is. Friends will try to "get it", but you have to live it to really get it. TK gets better and better at regulation, especially in public, so dysregulation surprises and scares people. (Sometimes it still surprises me). Frequently they get so freaked by it that they decide the risk is too high, so they stop inviting you to things/volunteering to help. For years there was no "safe person" to leave her with, so I just hunkered down and did it. I'd say it's worse since I'm a single parent, except I know married trauma parents who feel just as isolated.
- How many events/invites would be skipped or cut short. When dysregulation is high, you learn to skip stuff or walk out partway through, because regulation is gold. Regulation is peace. Regulation is worth (most times) sacrificing time with friends and family because dyregulation is horrific. Dysregulation is monstrous and consuming and mind-numbingly exhausting. So you turn down invitations, leave parties early, and generally tick off your friends until they stop inviting you (see previous entry).
- How scared TK is. She is almost 11 years home, but we are 7 years into the trauma journey. In the beginning the fear was evident. Over time it manifests itself differently. It turns from thrown objects and slammed doors to harsh words, negative self talk and random outbursts that are disproportionate to the event. The other day she was snitty and I lost it. (The good news is this rarely happens, so it shocks and scares her when it does.) She came totally unglued and terrified. I realized that while she is 99% sure she is loved unconditionally, that 1% is still there. There is still a small part of her that worries that maybe this time she crossed the line; maybe this time she really IS unlovable. That fear is so hard to chase out. A shadow of it always seem to linger.
- How broken I am. I've read that TKs are a gift to point out our own brokenness and help us heal it. This is certainly true for me. At some point I realized I could not help TK move forward until I myself could move forward past my own trauma. Working simultaneously on her trauma and mine was brutal, and I know there is still work to be done - on both fronts. But I am grateful for the opportunity to heal.
- How hard this is. Granted, we have made tons of progress, but trauma is still very much a part of our lives. It's there at night when I pat her to sleep and tell myself, "just stay quiet" while TK rants about something inconsequential (and often not the real issue). It's there when I pick her up from school and she goes to her room and slams her door because she used up all her regulation dealing with teachers and friends (and enemies). It's there when she blows for no apparent reason, and it takes hours of talking and detective work to discover the underlying fear.
So, dear trauma mamas, trauma dads, and trauma caregivers, there are a lot of things no one told you. Blessedly there are almost always small moments of grace that give us enough strength to keep moving forward. For our TKs are great purveyors of grace. It's there when they forgive our failings. It's there when they challenge themselves to move into and through a hard situation. It's there when they apologize after a bout of dysregulation. It's there when you find another Trauma Mama to share the truth. So I offer you the grace of my truth. May it carry you through the next "hard part", because we all know there will be one. Keep fighting the good fight, Trauma Mamas.
Sunday, April 16, 2017
Saturday, February 18, 2017
How Family Game Night turned into a horror movie
Phew. I'm exhausted. I've spent the last two hours in the hell that is puberty and trauma combined. It is a new twist on an old song. I'm familiar with the old trauma events; they tended to center around physical violence and tears. The new, puberty fueled trauma events center around emotional assaults and accusations. I find those much harder to deal with than the physical stuff.
Of course tonight I was fairly raw going in. I've been sick with shingles and then a sinus infection/ear infection/bronchitis combo since Christmas, and I am physically and mentally exhausted. To top it off, my mom is here and earlier today I unsuccessfully tried to shut down the conversation (or monologue) where she pondered why the pediatrician who sexually assaulted me when I was 15 (but remained a 'family friend' to this day) hadn't been in touch. I commented that the only time I wanted to hear about him was to read his obituary (my standard reply whenever he comes up in conversation, which he does at least once every time we're together). Needless to say I was already running on emotional fumes when everything went south.
Trauma Kid (TK) and I were playing "guess what I'm holding" (one of our many made-up games), and she decided to pull out some slime. (For those of you who don't have a middle schooler, slime is as pervasive as bottle flipping.) When i went to poke it she told me I couldn't touch it, then slid the container off the table. She said if I picked it up I could play with the slime. I told her she was full of it, and she said, "I promise, Mom." Of course I picked it up and of course she told me I couldn't touch it. I told her the word promise means something, and she shouldn't say it if she wasn't going to follow through on it. She threw the container at me and stormed into her room. A few minutes later she came out and told me she made fake promises all the time so why was I making a big deal of it now. I told her I had mistakenly thought it was a passing thing and I had make a mistake. She got so angry she actually punched the wall and cracked the wallboard. I mustered every single iota of control I had and did NOT yell. I got her some ice, told her I was sorry she felt so angry she had to punch the wall and went to my room to cool off a little. She went into her room to sob.
After many many deep breaths, I went into her room and just sat on the floor, trying to be calm. After a few minutes of heavy sobs, she started talking, and it wasn't pretty. It was focused on how she can't talk to me because I'm so fake, I don't care about how she feels, I only pretend to care when other people are around, she doesn't even talk to me anymore because she knows I'm just pretending, she's scared that I don't really care about her, she feels bad because she's always making me do stuff I hate doing like jumping on the trampoline., and lots more.....primarily focused on my failings.
I stuffed away all my hurt (because there was plenty) and told her I was sorry if she felt I didn't love her, that I really hoped some part of her knew I loved her ALWAYS no matter what, and then I foolishly tried to address her list of "complaints". In retrospect, that was foolish. It was like addressing the angry actions /violence in the "old days". I had to get deeper, past the "let me hurt you so you don't hurt me" statements to the core......it's in there. Did you catch it? I didn't at first. "She's scared I don't really care about her." Some part of me flips out when I hear that (just internally though), and I get both hurt and angry. But the hurt and anger are my crud, not hers, so i try my very best not to level them at her. I just repeated that I really hoped some part of her knew that she was the most important thing in my life, that I was sorry if i didn't make that clear and disappointed her, but there is not a single second of my life that I don't love her and am grateful for her.
She eventually came and sat next to me on the floor. I apologized and told her I'd never raised a tweenager before and I would make mistakes, but I would keep trying to get better. She leaned over and put her head in my lap and sobbed for a few more minutes. Then she sat up and asked if we could keep talking (it was already an hour past bedtime). WHAT? You just said you couldn't talk to me so you didn't even try! Of course I said yes and I heard things I've heard before, but we laughed and moved past the trauma drama.
I admit I am wounded. The specific targeted emotional shots are much more damaging than the generalized emotional attacks of the old trauma events. I am now struggling with trying to discern what, if anything, of what she levelled at me is true and what was just trauma and puberty talking. I honestly don't know. I just know I want to run away for a few days and get away from the madness, but that's not in the realm of possibility, so, as always, I will dig deep and pull up my big girl trauma mama pants and get on with it.
Shoot me some grace to move past the hurtful words and hold onto the laughter that we shared. I'm sending you grace for those days when the emotional battle is full-on and brutal. Hang tough, Trauma Mamas. The journey keeps changing, and it IS exhasuting when your tools don't work anymore, or you have to at least tweak them to make them work. But your TK is still needing the grace of hearing they are loved and accepted just as, and where, they are. That's a grace we all need.
Of course tonight I was fairly raw going in. I've been sick with shingles and then a sinus infection/ear infection/bronchitis combo since Christmas, and I am physically and mentally exhausted. To top it off, my mom is here and earlier today I unsuccessfully tried to shut down the conversation (or monologue) where she pondered why the pediatrician who sexually assaulted me when I was 15 (but remained a 'family friend' to this day) hadn't been in touch. I commented that the only time I wanted to hear about him was to read his obituary (my standard reply whenever he comes up in conversation, which he does at least once every time we're together). Needless to say I was already running on emotional fumes when everything went south.
Trauma Kid (TK) and I were playing "guess what I'm holding" (one of our many made-up games), and she decided to pull out some slime. (For those of you who don't have a middle schooler, slime is as pervasive as bottle flipping.) When i went to poke it she told me I couldn't touch it, then slid the container off the table. She said if I picked it up I could play with the slime. I told her she was full of it, and she said, "I promise, Mom." Of course I picked it up and of course she told me I couldn't touch it. I told her the word promise means something, and she shouldn't say it if she wasn't going to follow through on it. She threw the container at me and stormed into her room. A few minutes later she came out and told me she made fake promises all the time so why was I making a big deal of it now. I told her I had mistakenly thought it was a passing thing and I had make a mistake. She got so angry she actually punched the wall and cracked the wallboard. I mustered every single iota of control I had and did NOT yell. I got her some ice, told her I was sorry she felt so angry she had to punch the wall and went to my room to cool off a little. She went into her room to sob.
After many many deep breaths, I went into her room and just sat on the floor, trying to be calm. After a few minutes of heavy sobs, she started talking, and it wasn't pretty. It was focused on how she can't talk to me because I'm so fake, I don't care about how she feels, I only pretend to care when other people are around, she doesn't even talk to me anymore because she knows I'm just pretending, she's scared that I don't really care about her, she feels bad because she's always making me do stuff I hate doing like jumping on the trampoline., and lots more.....primarily focused on my failings.
I stuffed away all my hurt (because there was plenty) and told her I was sorry if she felt I didn't love her, that I really hoped some part of her knew I loved her ALWAYS no matter what, and then I foolishly tried to address her list of "complaints". In retrospect, that was foolish. It was like addressing the angry actions /violence in the "old days". I had to get deeper, past the "let me hurt you so you don't hurt me" statements to the core......it's in there. Did you catch it? I didn't at first. "She's scared I don't really care about her." Some part of me flips out when I hear that (just internally though), and I get both hurt and angry. But the hurt and anger are my crud, not hers, so i try my very best not to level them at her. I just repeated that I really hoped some part of her knew that she was the most important thing in my life, that I was sorry if i didn't make that clear and disappointed her, but there is not a single second of my life that I don't love her and am grateful for her.
She eventually came and sat next to me on the floor. I apologized and told her I'd never raised a tweenager before and I would make mistakes, but I would keep trying to get better. She leaned over and put her head in my lap and sobbed for a few more minutes. Then she sat up and asked if we could keep talking (it was already an hour past bedtime). WHAT? You just said you couldn't talk to me so you didn't even try! Of course I said yes and I heard things I've heard before, but we laughed and moved past the trauma drama.
I admit I am wounded. The specific targeted emotional shots are much more damaging than the generalized emotional attacks of the old trauma events. I am now struggling with trying to discern what, if anything, of what she levelled at me is true and what was just trauma and puberty talking. I honestly don't know. I just know I want to run away for a few days and get away from the madness, but that's not in the realm of possibility, so, as always, I will dig deep and pull up my big girl trauma mama pants and get on with it.
Shoot me some grace to move past the hurtful words and hold onto the laughter that we shared. I'm sending you grace for those days when the emotional battle is full-on and brutal. Hang tough, Trauma Mamas. The journey keeps changing, and it IS exhasuting when your tools don't work anymore, or you have to at least tweak them to make them work. But your TK is still needing the grace of hearing they are loved and accepted just as, and where, they are. That's a grace we all need.
Saturday, January 7, 2017
pondering and puzzling
I have a friend who has 3 kids, and she LOVES summer vacation, counts the days until fall, winter and spring breaks, and is truly sad when her kids go back to school. I sort of envy that. Because I always feel like a bad mom when folks are talking about how excited they are about breaks and all I feel is dread. TK is a ton of fun, has a great sense of humor, and is a good sidekick for shopping. But she is also a tween, so most of my suggestions about what to do get shot down. And she talks - a lot - long, rambling monologues about things in which I feign interest while internally wanting to gouge out my ears and wondering if she can tell my "wow, really?" and "I never knew that" are completely fake.
Of course my friend's kids aren't TKs, and she has a hubby (who works a lot, but still there's someone to tag out with occasionally) and relatives nearby. But still, I feel like I'm missing something. My goal for school breaks is to survive with as little drama as possible. Of course I want to have fun and I try to pack a lot in to keep TK entertained and happy. I know boredom is good for creativity, and it's not my job to entertain her, but TK gets pretty dysregulated when there is no schedule and no school (where her social interaction occurs), so busy tends to keep her from imploding....or at least limits the trauma meltdowns.
This break has been exceptionally tough. We only had one major trauma meltdown, though definitely lots of mini-meltdown moments. TK keeps commenting that I'm grumpy. I admit I don't like the Christmas holidays - they bring to the forefront the fact that we are flying solo. There is an abundance of family togetherness over the holidays, and we're not in that place in our lives. So other than a short visit from Grandmom and two bouts of friend time, it's been just the two of us for 19 days (well, 18 days- day 19 is tomorrow). That is an overabundance of togetherness with limited other people in the picture. We have had moments of hilarity and true joy, but mostly we've soldiered through. That makes me sad, as I want our lives to be so much more than just "getting through".
I'm trying to step back and look at the last 18 days and celebrate the fact that we got through it with only one fairly large trauma moment. Yet I find myself still puzzling and pondering why some folks truly enjoy spending huge periods of time with their kids and I find myself so challenged by that. I wonder if it would be different if TK weren't a trauma kid. Of course such pondering is pointless, but I find myself there nonetheless. Maybe this is just normal when your kids (TK or non) get to be tweens and teens. And, of course, there's the whole trauma thing.......
So I'll search for some grace to get us through our last day of winter break, and grab the grace that comes with the return of structure and regular social interaction ( and adult conversation for me!) on Monday. And I'll ponder and puzzle and likely not gain any huge insights. As always, some things with our TKs (and us) remain unexplained and challenging.
Hang tough, Trauma Mamas. Whether you had a 9 day break or a 19 day break, take a breath and know you have some time before the next one (57 days on this end ---- not that I'm counting......). Grab the grace of knowing no matter how challenging, you survived the break. Maybe you and your TK thrived, maybe you just survived, but you did it! I'll try to grab that grace myself.
Of course my friend's kids aren't TKs, and she has a hubby (who works a lot, but still there's someone to tag out with occasionally) and relatives nearby. But still, I feel like I'm missing something. My goal for school breaks is to survive with as little drama as possible. Of course I want to have fun and I try to pack a lot in to keep TK entertained and happy. I know boredom is good for creativity, and it's not my job to entertain her, but TK gets pretty dysregulated when there is no schedule and no school (where her social interaction occurs), so busy tends to keep her from imploding....or at least limits the trauma meltdowns.
This break has been exceptionally tough. We only had one major trauma meltdown, though definitely lots of mini-meltdown moments. TK keeps commenting that I'm grumpy. I admit I don't like the Christmas holidays - they bring to the forefront the fact that we are flying solo. There is an abundance of family togetherness over the holidays, and we're not in that place in our lives. So other than a short visit from Grandmom and two bouts of friend time, it's been just the two of us for 19 days (well, 18 days- day 19 is tomorrow). That is an overabundance of togetherness with limited other people in the picture. We have had moments of hilarity and true joy, but mostly we've soldiered through. That makes me sad, as I want our lives to be so much more than just "getting through".
I'm trying to step back and look at the last 18 days and celebrate the fact that we got through it with only one fairly large trauma moment. Yet I find myself still puzzling and pondering why some folks truly enjoy spending huge periods of time with their kids and I find myself so challenged by that. I wonder if it would be different if TK weren't a trauma kid. Of course such pondering is pointless, but I find myself there nonetheless. Maybe this is just normal when your kids (TK or non) get to be tweens and teens. And, of course, there's the whole trauma thing.......
So I'll search for some grace to get us through our last day of winter break, and grab the grace that comes with the return of structure and regular social interaction ( and adult conversation for me!) on Monday. And I'll ponder and puzzle and likely not gain any huge insights. As always, some things with our TKs (and us) remain unexplained and challenging.
Hang tough, Trauma Mamas. Whether you had a 9 day break or a 19 day break, take a breath and know you have some time before the next one (57 days on this end ---- not that I'm counting......). Grab the grace of knowing no matter how challenging, you survived the break. Maybe you and your TK thrived, maybe you just survived, but you did it! I'll try to grab that grace myself.
Thursday, December 29, 2016
42% of the way there
That, my friends, is 8 out of 19 days of winter break we have survived. Almost halfway there. If you have never counted down the days during a break, you probably don't have a trauma kid (TK) in your family/circle. Because I count down every break - 3 day ones are pretty doable, one week ones are tough, and the long ones - like now - are a struggle.
Many TKs (like mine) thrive on structure and sameness, predictability and schedules. TK is very flexible within a structure, but a complete lack of structure leaves her feeling adrift and unsure. The first few days are fine, but by day 6 or so she becomes more needy (pat me to sleep, let me sleep in your room) and more easily dysregulated. Of course right now that is compounded by the hormone swings of puberty, so it's a double whammy.
Thanksgiving break had some challenges for us. It reminded me that while TK has come far on this healing journey, she is still overwhelmed and prone to dysregulation when we are with large groups of people that are important to us. She feels she is competing for attention and acceptance, and this often leads to a resurgence of trauma behaviors - sometimes physical but more often verbal. Some say this is because she is the only child of a single mom, so she is accustomed to being the center of attention. That is quite possibly part of it, but much of it is the scarcity mentality so common in trauma kids. If someone else is getting the attention/manifestation of love, there's less for me. This is worse in "high risk" situations- when the people involved are all dearly loved, even the hint of rejection is devastating.
So we've kept our world small this break. This means we have had a scant few visits with our loved ones, a few people at a time. The plus side of this is TK has not felt the fear of rejection, and our loved ones have not had to deal with a dysregulated TK. The down side of this is I am the sole provider of emotional support, the entertainer, and the recipient of all dysregulation and puberty moments.
The part that is still, to steal TK's word, confuzzling to me is how well TK does in social situations at school and other peer environments, but she falls back into massive fear of rejection when older kids and adults are involved. I'll have to ponder that one for a while and see what bubbles up.
So we have 11 days to go. In the first 8 days I've had about 2 hours without TK; I expect that will be about the same for the next 11 days. But we will, as always, do what needs to be done and handle it. Not always with grace, but always with love.
Hang tough during your "time off" (yes, I'm laughing - or crying!), trauma mamas. I know only too well how hard it is to make your TK's world small, and I know the price you pay for that. Grab the grace that comes with doing what is best for your TK. We can do this, trauma mamas.
Sending you grace to get through the holidays. Feel free to send some back in return.
Many TKs (like mine) thrive on structure and sameness, predictability and schedules. TK is very flexible within a structure, but a complete lack of structure leaves her feeling adrift and unsure. The first few days are fine, but by day 6 or so she becomes more needy (pat me to sleep, let me sleep in your room) and more easily dysregulated. Of course right now that is compounded by the hormone swings of puberty, so it's a double whammy.
Thanksgiving break had some challenges for us. It reminded me that while TK has come far on this healing journey, she is still overwhelmed and prone to dysregulation when we are with large groups of people that are important to us. She feels she is competing for attention and acceptance, and this often leads to a resurgence of trauma behaviors - sometimes physical but more often verbal. Some say this is because she is the only child of a single mom, so she is accustomed to being the center of attention. That is quite possibly part of it, but much of it is the scarcity mentality so common in trauma kids. If someone else is getting the attention/manifestation of love, there's less for me. This is worse in "high risk" situations- when the people involved are all dearly loved, even the hint of rejection is devastating.
So we've kept our world small this break. This means we have had a scant few visits with our loved ones, a few people at a time. The plus side of this is TK has not felt the fear of rejection, and our loved ones have not had to deal with a dysregulated TK. The down side of this is I am the sole provider of emotional support, the entertainer, and the recipient of all dysregulation and puberty moments.
The part that is still, to steal TK's word, confuzzling to me is how well TK does in social situations at school and other peer environments, but she falls back into massive fear of rejection when older kids and adults are involved. I'll have to ponder that one for a while and see what bubbles up.
So we have 11 days to go. In the first 8 days I've had about 2 hours without TK; I expect that will be about the same for the next 11 days. But we will, as always, do what needs to be done and handle it. Not always with grace, but always with love.
Hang tough during your "time off" (yes, I'm laughing - or crying!), trauma mamas. I know only too well how hard it is to make your TK's world small, and I know the price you pay for that. Grab the grace that comes with doing what is best for your TK. We can do this, trauma mamas.
Sending you grace to get through the holidays. Feel free to send some back in return.
Thursday, December 1, 2016
Trauma Mama - emphasis on the Mama
I am pretty well versed in trauma, yet it still confounds me at times. I am a good resource to a lot of folks who are in the hot and heavy trauma battle, yet still struggle with the intermittent, ever-changing way trauma presents in our house, and how to deal with the fallout. That's what this blog is about - dealing with fallout.
Thanksgiving was okay, considering we had 9 days of nearly 24/7 mom/Trauma Kid (TK) time. On Thanksgiving day we went to a family dinner and got to love on the newest baby (TK LOVES little kids - the under 4 set are her favorite people) and all seemed okay. On the way home we got a phone call saying TK had kicked someone during the family soccer game. It was news to me as I had been playing watchdog to the little ones on the slide. Unfortunately the conversation started rather abruptly, with "I heard you kicked X. Why did you kick her?" TK immediately went into survival mode and said she didn't do it, that X had tripped her and she'd talk to the caller about it later (we were on the speaker in the car). I didn't bring it up on the rest of the car ride because I knew she was in fear mode and nothing good would happen if we pursued it at that point. We got home and TK went into her room and hibernated. I was okay with that as I knew she was decompressing from having a lot of people around and the phone call.
I continued the conversation via text. A lot came up, and I'm still not sure what to do with it all. I heard that TK did something very rude and disrespectful this summer, that the folks feel they are walking on eggshells around her because they so desperately want her to be comfortable but aren't sure how to accomplish that and she's so unpredictable. I had a very mixed response. My first response was to shut down and hide. When it comes to fight, flight, or freeze, TK is all about the fight and I'm all about the flight! I spent the next two days heartbroken and sobbing. Then I spent two days furious and ready to fight. My anger was mostly around hearing about something that happened this summer. We have worked REALLY hard to deal with things as they arise, make it right to the best of our ability, and move on. So hearing something old dredged up felt like an attack to me, and it seemed really unfair. I couldn't do anything about it now except stew on it. Luckily I don't have the fight response, and am old enough to know that time is key to moving through emotional turmoil, so I purposely just let it sit until I could view it all with calmness and recognize the information was provided as just that - information, not condemnation. I forget that others don't know what causes those rude outbursts nor how to deal with them. I am grateful that they are trying to be sensitive to the trauma journey, and at the same time frustrated that no one but me knows how to handle it. And let's be real, sometimes even I don't know how to deal with it.
Once I moved past sadness/hurt and anger, I was just, as TK says, confuzzled. I still lean toward running, for a variety of reasons. (Let me clarify that this is our local, "adopted" family - dear dear friends who have included us in their family and accepted us with all our baggage.) Obviously TK doesn't trust the family's love yet -----she kicked X because she tripped when X went for the ball, and folks saw TK trip. So she looked, to TK's trauma brain, like a failure; failures aren't lovable; they won't love me. So she reverted to fear mode and lashed out. I also don't want them to feel like they have to walk in fear around her, waiting for the next explosion. And I don't want to spend every gathering in fear, always in high alert for any remote evidence that things could go south. And I don't want to go through another three days where TK feels less than, which she did after this occurred. She felt unloved, untrusted, and rejected. Thus the whole "trusting the love" thing. I suppose it is too much to ask her to trust that any other people could love her unconditionally......it took her years to believe that I did.
On the plus side, TK wasn't thrown for a loop for nearly as long as she would have been a year ago. And her reaction was less extreme than it would have been. She tested my love a few times, purposely pushing some buttons to see what would happen. Luckily I knew where her head was, and I was able to call on my Trauma Mama heart and respond correctly.
So there you have it. This Trauma Mama is still "confuzzled". Sometimes we focus so much on our TK's struggles that we don't stop to recognize or validate our own. So I'm telling myself, and you, it's okay to be confuzzled sometimes. You won't always have the right answers, or even any answer. Sometimes you just have to walk through it step by step and deal with it as it comes. Clarity will come at some point. Hang tough til it does, Trauma Mamas. That's what I'm trying to do.
Thanksgiving was okay, considering we had 9 days of nearly 24/7 mom/Trauma Kid (TK) time. On Thanksgiving day we went to a family dinner and got to love on the newest baby (TK LOVES little kids - the under 4 set are her favorite people) and all seemed okay. On the way home we got a phone call saying TK had kicked someone during the family soccer game. It was news to me as I had been playing watchdog to the little ones on the slide. Unfortunately the conversation started rather abruptly, with "I heard you kicked X. Why did you kick her?" TK immediately went into survival mode and said she didn't do it, that X had tripped her and she'd talk to the caller about it later (we were on the speaker in the car). I didn't bring it up on the rest of the car ride because I knew she was in fear mode and nothing good would happen if we pursued it at that point. We got home and TK went into her room and hibernated. I was okay with that as I knew she was decompressing from having a lot of people around and the phone call.
I continued the conversation via text. A lot came up, and I'm still not sure what to do with it all. I heard that TK did something very rude and disrespectful this summer, that the folks feel they are walking on eggshells around her because they so desperately want her to be comfortable but aren't sure how to accomplish that and she's so unpredictable. I had a very mixed response. My first response was to shut down and hide. When it comes to fight, flight, or freeze, TK is all about the fight and I'm all about the flight! I spent the next two days heartbroken and sobbing. Then I spent two days furious and ready to fight. My anger was mostly around hearing about something that happened this summer. We have worked REALLY hard to deal with things as they arise, make it right to the best of our ability, and move on. So hearing something old dredged up felt like an attack to me, and it seemed really unfair. I couldn't do anything about it now except stew on it. Luckily I don't have the fight response, and am old enough to know that time is key to moving through emotional turmoil, so I purposely just let it sit until I could view it all with calmness and recognize the information was provided as just that - information, not condemnation. I forget that others don't know what causes those rude outbursts nor how to deal with them. I am grateful that they are trying to be sensitive to the trauma journey, and at the same time frustrated that no one but me knows how to handle it. And let's be real, sometimes even I don't know how to deal with it.
Once I moved past sadness/hurt and anger, I was just, as TK says, confuzzled. I still lean toward running, for a variety of reasons. (Let me clarify that this is our local, "adopted" family - dear dear friends who have included us in their family and accepted us with all our baggage.) Obviously TK doesn't trust the family's love yet -----she kicked X because she tripped when X went for the ball, and folks saw TK trip. So she looked, to TK's trauma brain, like a failure; failures aren't lovable; they won't love me. So she reverted to fear mode and lashed out. I also don't want them to feel like they have to walk in fear around her, waiting for the next explosion. And I don't want to spend every gathering in fear, always in high alert for any remote evidence that things could go south. And I don't want to go through another three days where TK feels less than, which she did after this occurred. She felt unloved, untrusted, and rejected. Thus the whole "trusting the love" thing. I suppose it is too much to ask her to trust that any other people could love her unconditionally......it took her years to believe that I did.
On the plus side, TK wasn't thrown for a loop for nearly as long as she would have been a year ago. And her reaction was less extreme than it would have been. She tested my love a few times, purposely pushing some buttons to see what would happen. Luckily I knew where her head was, and I was able to call on my Trauma Mama heart and respond correctly.
So there you have it. This Trauma Mama is still "confuzzled". Sometimes we focus so much on our TK's struggles that we don't stop to recognize or validate our own. So I'm telling myself, and you, it's okay to be confuzzled sometimes. You won't always have the right answers, or even any answer. Sometimes you just have to walk through it step by step and deal with it as it comes. Clarity will come at some point. Hang tough til it does, Trauma Mamas. That's what I'm trying to do.
Saturday, November 5, 2016
the new face of the trauma beast
I'm not quite sure where this blog entry is headed, but I wanted to write anyway. We seem to be in a weird place - not sure how much is just normal tween stuff and how much is trauma stuff. I think it doesn't really matter, because the end result is the same -a dysregulated Trauma Kid (TK) who feels "not enough."
I may well meander more than normal (which I know is saying something!), so buckle up and read on.
TK has been much more quiet than normal the last two weeks. I pretty much wrote it off to tween hormone stuff. She would come home, talk to me for 5 minutes, head to her room, do her homework (usually while facetiming her friend), and watch some soccer videos on YouTube when homework was done. Then we'd go outside and play some volleyball or study on the trampoline for 30 minutes or so, then she'd hunker back down in her room. I let her.......partly because I was glad for the quiet (honest, as always!) and partly because I figured she just needed that quiet time right now. But mostly I was glad for the quiet. In retrospect, I should have pushed for more connection time...as will be apparent as my story unwinds.
Fast forward to yesterday. TK had a rough day at school. Her teachers and administrators are great, but there is one teacher she just doesn't trust, so she struggles to connect with her. This teacher has called out TK on more than one occasion, usually in front of the whole class. Once she told her she was the reason the class wasn't moving through the information faster, once she told her she was "consistently disrespectful to her classmates", and Friday she told her she was lying and "crying won't work with me, so don't bother". (You all know I don't accept what she says at face value, as I know it gets skewed by her TK's perspective. But her perception is her reality, so I have to deal with that.) Did TK lie? Could well be. When most kids are stressed they resort to a lie to avoid getting into trouble. But when a TK is stressed they can't help but lie. Their brain is in fear mode and rational thinking stops. They feel they have to lie to save their life. Confronting them in that moment just heightens the fear and makes them double down.
Unfortunately I haven't ever met with this teacher and had the chance to explain any of this. I had one email conversation with her at the beginning of the year and it was not a positive experience. Her response was terse and rude and she called out TK the next day in class. So I am struggling with how to proceed.
On top of that, we have some dear friends whose lives have been very busy and we haven't been able to connect much lately. They've had lots of things going on and she hasn't been included, so she's feeling very abandoned and rejected. We've talked about cycles and how sometimes you have more time with your friends and sometimes you have less, but that didn't offset the feeling of rejection. It's nearly impossible to offset that feeling with logic. All of this played into today, though it took me much longer to figure that out than it should have.
TK had decided she wanted to sign up for basketball, mostly to stay in shape for volleyball, which she loves. We got the basketball schedule and the practices START 15 minutes before her bedtime. We talked about her practicing for half the practice and coming home, and she said she'd rather quit. I told her to at least go to the team meeting today and see what they say. She lost it. I, woefully, responded in kind. I told her I had paid over $100 for this and she was at least going to go listen or she could start selling stuff to repay me. It escalated quickly, as anyone with trauma experience would know (you would think. My duh.) I went to my room to calm down and she followed me, screaming and crying. "I'm sorry I don't want to go. I'm going to be horrible and everyone will laugh at me. I don't remember anything. I'm sorry about the money. I'll just go and be horrible and be humiliated. I feel like I'm always disappointing you and making you mad. I don't think you even want me around most of the time. Sometimes it feels like you don't love me." Ouch. I started crying, told her I was sorry she had such a lousy mom, then took a deep breath, turned on my Trauma Mama mode, and tried again. I wrapped my arms around her and I told her I was sorry for fussing at her about it; we'd figure out the money; I'm so proud of her all the time, and it really hurt my heart to hear that she thought I didn't love her sometimes. I must not be doing a very good job if that's how she feels.She reiterated that she felt like she was always disappointing me and I didn't love her.
That's new - the I don't love her thing. That one hurts. But when I had time to really play it out with a trauma filter, I get it. She feels rejected right now, so I must be rejecting her too. It's trauma math - "they rejected me, so I'm not lovable, so you must not love me." "My teacher called me a liar, so I'm a bad person; no one loves a bad person; you don't love me." It makes sense.
We got through it. It was ugly and hard but we did it. (We didn't get past it, though. I think that's going to take a while. I'm still trying to get the full understanding of where her trauma mind is.) She wanted to go see "Trolls", and I told her she could bring a friend. She said she wanted it to be just us. A few times she put her head on my shoulder. Then we went home and had a game night.
So I have to stop being a lazy trauma mama and pull her out of her room and make sure we connect - truly connect - every day. My time of just ignoring the withdrawal and enjoying the silence is over. Because letting her withdraw is, in itself, a rejection. Not enforcing togetherness is telling her I'm disappointed in her or mad at her and thus don't want to be with her.
It amazes me (not in a good way) how trauma keeps morphing and challenging me. It's like a shape-shifting monster; once you figure out how to wound it it morphs into something new and you need a new approach to take it down. Luckily the weapons are always the same.....love, understanding, and a boatload of patience!
I'm searching for grace in this one. I think I'll claim it in the head on my shoulder, in TK feeling safe enough to tell me how she feels. It has been a while since I felt so inept and insufficient at trauma mama-ing. Time to regroup and move forward.
Give yourselves some grace when trauma evolves, Trauma Mamas. Mourn the fact that the beast you had at least partly slain has re-emerged, perhaps not stronger, but no less challenging. Pull out your love and patience, Trauma Mamas, and go forth again into battle with the beast. You will prevail.
I may well meander more than normal (which I know is saying something!), so buckle up and read on.
TK has been much more quiet than normal the last two weeks. I pretty much wrote it off to tween hormone stuff. She would come home, talk to me for 5 minutes, head to her room, do her homework (usually while facetiming her friend), and watch some soccer videos on YouTube when homework was done. Then we'd go outside and play some volleyball or study on the trampoline for 30 minutes or so, then she'd hunker back down in her room. I let her.......partly because I was glad for the quiet (honest, as always!) and partly because I figured she just needed that quiet time right now. But mostly I was glad for the quiet. In retrospect, I should have pushed for more connection time...as will be apparent as my story unwinds.
Fast forward to yesterday. TK had a rough day at school. Her teachers and administrators are great, but there is one teacher she just doesn't trust, so she struggles to connect with her. This teacher has called out TK on more than one occasion, usually in front of the whole class. Once she told her she was the reason the class wasn't moving through the information faster, once she told her she was "consistently disrespectful to her classmates", and Friday she told her she was lying and "crying won't work with me, so don't bother". (You all know I don't accept what she says at face value, as I know it gets skewed by her TK's perspective. But her perception is her reality, so I have to deal with that.) Did TK lie? Could well be. When most kids are stressed they resort to a lie to avoid getting into trouble. But when a TK is stressed they can't help but lie. Their brain is in fear mode and rational thinking stops. They feel they have to lie to save their life. Confronting them in that moment just heightens the fear and makes them double down.
Unfortunately I haven't ever met with this teacher and had the chance to explain any of this. I had one email conversation with her at the beginning of the year and it was not a positive experience. Her response was terse and rude and she called out TK the next day in class. So I am struggling with how to proceed.
On top of that, we have some dear friends whose lives have been very busy and we haven't been able to connect much lately. They've had lots of things going on and she hasn't been included, so she's feeling very abandoned and rejected. We've talked about cycles and how sometimes you have more time with your friends and sometimes you have less, but that didn't offset the feeling of rejection. It's nearly impossible to offset that feeling with logic. All of this played into today, though it took me much longer to figure that out than it should have.
TK had decided she wanted to sign up for basketball, mostly to stay in shape for volleyball, which she loves. We got the basketball schedule and the practices START 15 minutes before her bedtime. We talked about her practicing for half the practice and coming home, and she said she'd rather quit. I told her to at least go to the team meeting today and see what they say. She lost it. I, woefully, responded in kind. I told her I had paid over $100 for this and she was at least going to go listen or she could start selling stuff to repay me. It escalated quickly, as anyone with trauma experience would know (you would think. My duh.) I went to my room to calm down and she followed me, screaming and crying. "I'm sorry I don't want to go. I'm going to be horrible and everyone will laugh at me. I don't remember anything. I'm sorry about the money. I'll just go and be horrible and be humiliated. I feel like I'm always disappointing you and making you mad. I don't think you even want me around most of the time. Sometimes it feels like you don't love me." Ouch. I started crying, told her I was sorry she had such a lousy mom, then took a deep breath, turned on my Trauma Mama mode, and tried again. I wrapped my arms around her and I told her I was sorry for fussing at her about it; we'd figure out the money; I'm so proud of her all the time, and it really hurt my heart to hear that she thought I didn't love her sometimes. I must not be doing a very good job if that's how she feels.She reiterated that she felt like she was always disappointing me and I didn't love her.
That's new - the I don't love her thing. That one hurts. But when I had time to really play it out with a trauma filter, I get it. She feels rejected right now, so I must be rejecting her too. It's trauma math - "they rejected me, so I'm not lovable, so you must not love me." "My teacher called me a liar, so I'm a bad person; no one loves a bad person; you don't love me." It makes sense.
We got through it. It was ugly and hard but we did it. (We didn't get past it, though. I think that's going to take a while. I'm still trying to get the full understanding of where her trauma mind is.) She wanted to go see "Trolls", and I told her she could bring a friend. She said she wanted it to be just us. A few times she put her head on my shoulder. Then we went home and had a game night.
So I have to stop being a lazy trauma mama and pull her out of her room and make sure we connect - truly connect - every day. My time of just ignoring the withdrawal and enjoying the silence is over. Because letting her withdraw is, in itself, a rejection. Not enforcing togetherness is telling her I'm disappointed in her or mad at her and thus don't want to be with her.
It amazes me (not in a good way) how trauma keeps morphing and challenging me. It's like a shape-shifting monster; once you figure out how to wound it it morphs into something new and you need a new approach to take it down. Luckily the weapons are always the same.....love, understanding, and a boatload of patience!
I'm searching for grace in this one. I think I'll claim it in the head on my shoulder, in TK feeling safe enough to tell me how she feels. It has been a while since I felt so inept and insufficient at trauma mama-ing. Time to regroup and move forward.
Give yourselves some grace when trauma evolves, Trauma Mamas. Mourn the fact that the beast you had at least partly slain has re-emerged, perhaps not stronger, but no less challenging. Pull out your love and patience, Trauma Mamas, and go forth again into battle with the beast. You will prevail.
Tuesday, October 4, 2016
#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.
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'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.
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