Trauma Sucks

I cried today.
Wish it would have been
Louder
Longer
Deeper
Fuller
But I was at school
In a staff meeting

Yeah
Bad timing.

I don’t get to pick when I cry.
Wish I did.
Wish I could.
Wish I could release more.

So why today?

Well
The simple answer?
It’s been building.
I had a little tear up session a few weeks ago over school stress
But it wasn’t the real deal.

But
The real answer?
Today was trauma-informed teaching training
Part 2

Trauma-informed teaching training
Trauma-informed
Trauma

Part 1 was just before school started
So my brain was on overload
My brain filtered it
My brain took it in and said
I know that
I live that
I got that

But today
For some reason today
I know the reason
The trauma-informed training
Set
Me
Off.

I felt it coming.
I tried to stifle it.
It wasn’t the place.
It wasn’t the time.

All the trainer did was start a review
A review of trauma
A review of what I know
A review of what I’ve seen in my classrooms for years
A review of years of training I've had
A review of what I live with
Wake up with
Eat next to
Sleep next to
Drive home
Disciple
Laugh with
Cry with
Call my daughters
Every
Single
Day.
A review of my reality
My hard reality lately
And it's been hard
Really hard
Lately.

And did you know that being a momma of kids with trauma
Often leads to secondary trauma in the mommas?
Trauma mommas
Mommas of kids with trauma?
Or mommas with trauma themselves?
A?
B?
All of the above.
See my hand waving wildly in the back?
See my finger pointing back at myself?

I am a trauma momma.
I know it.
And I suck at it.
Every day.
I'm working on it.
But I'm in an ugly place with my own secondary trauma right now
Let's be honest...I have been for almost a year now.

So
The tears came today
As the teaching came today
Not because it was new
Not because it was different
Not because I didn't know it
But because I am tired
Because I am used up
Because I am failing
Because I am losing
Because I am struggling
Because I am guilty

Those tears today
Slow
Controllable drips
At first
Then fast flowing
Couldn’t wipe away fast enough tears
On to crocodile tears
Find an escape to the nearest bathroom
Sobbing
Gasping
Wanting
Needing
Desiring
To scream
To yell
To punch
But
Embarrassed
At a new school
No one really knows me
Or my story
I don’t even know
If
I
Know
My
Story
Fully

We need this training in schools.
We need it as educators.
I learn more every time.
And I am passionate about helping my trauma kids
My school trauma kids
And my own trauma kids

But I couldn't separate the trauma teacher brain
From the trauma momma brain today
And my trauma momma heart was
Heavy today was
Weary today was
Guilt-ridden today.
How can I know all of this as a teacher
How can I practice all of this with students
How can I understand the truths of trauma
But then fail so badly at home?

Partly I know it's because
I teach kids who have
Faced
Lived
Experience
Sit-in
Go home to
Trauma
Every
Single
Day.
I teach them
I love them
I try to be there for them.
But at the end of the day,
I turn my back away from them
And their trauma
And it's on a shelf
Of sorts
Until the next day
Until the next encounter.

But then I come home.
But when I close my eyes.
But when I think about anything.
It's always about my trauma babies.
My FabFive.

Two whom have years of
Unknown
And known
Trauma.
Trauma
That I don't understand
That I don't get
That I don't know
That I can't fix
That I can't change
That I can't figure out

Three whom have nine months
In-utero trauma
Of unknown
And known
Stress
Abuse
Neglect
Trauma

My trauma babies.
My Five.
I teach them.
My FabFive.
I love them.
I try to be there for them.
But I fail so badly.
Over and over again.

Their trauma has
Triggered
Kicked in
Set off
Caused me
Trauma.

I've always been a person of
Big emotions
Big feelings
Big reactions
Lots of words
Lots of thoughts
Lots of processing
And some days
Some weeks
Some months
And apparently some seasons of life
Like toddlerhood
Like tweens
It's extra hard
And my big emotions
My big feelings
My big reactions
My words
My thoughts
My processing
Aren't any better
Or under much more control
Than my trauma babies.

And when I don't take the time to process
I haven't blogged in three years!
And when I don't take the time to care for myself
Insert eye roll!
And when I don't take the time to breathe
Literally don't think before I react
My trauma rears it's own head
At the trauma of my own babies
It's a vicious cycle.
And there are times when we move around here like a well-oiled machine
And there are times when we run around here like something is on fire.
And there are times when I can't find the firehose

Don't get me wrong.
My girls are generally happy.
Generally sweet.
Generally loving.
Generally giving.
Generally amazingly amazing.

But there is always underlying trauma.

And parts of me thinks
It's been long enough now
You've been with me long enough now
You don't need to have this trauma anymore
It's time to move on

I want to think that this should have passed
I want to think that my love should have fixed this
I want to think that my consistency should have resolved this
And then I laugh
And then I cry
Because that's I know that's not how trauma works
Not how trauma operates
Reality is
I know better.
Trauma doesn't go away.
Trauma lasts a lifetime.

You can learn overcoming tricks
You can practice overcoming skills
You can counsel
You can pray
You can.
It will help.
You will grow.
You will overcome.

But
Trauma sucks.
Trauma is always there.
Somewhere.
Deep down
Ready to rise up
It sucks.
Sucks the life out of you.
Sucks the joy out of you.
Sucks the rationalization out of you,
Sucks the regulated brain out of you.
And so does
Secondary trauma.

I wouldn't mind some more cry time
Some more scream into a pillow time
A magic
Trauma-be-gone pill

But for now
I'll process
I'll blog
I'll ask for prayer
I'll seek counsel
I'll cry when I can
I'll hide when I need to.
And I'll bite off a fingernail or two in the processing process as well.