PTSD rears it's ugly head again. I forget. I forget how one false move can bring the world crashing down around you. I forget that it never goes away. I forget that this terrible fear and trauma will haunt my daughter the rest of her days.
I can't give details, because, as you know, I've promised my girl not to share those kinds of things anymore. She's older. She doesn't want her dirty laundry airing, and I don't blame her. But can I say this? Can I say that sometimes I get so angry that people don't get it? I want to scream.
A certain child of mine was taken, without my permission, to see a very upsetting movie. I know it's a wonderful movie. I had planned to see it myself. But it is NOT the kind of movie that should be seen by someone who has experienced a lifetime of profound loss.
The movie is 'Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close'. I can't even comment on it, because I haven't seen it yet. But I see the repercussions it's having on someone who DID see it, and it's not fun. Regression, in all its forms, is visiting us again. Grief, deep grief. Nightmares and fears of losing me. And the added bonus of her fear at not being 'normal' that she 'did not want to see that movie'. She knew. She knew just from seeing the commercials that it was not a movie she could handle. She even tried to encourage the group to see something else, but in the end she was more scared of appearing different, than she was of the terrible feelings she knew this movie would elicit.
I'm angry. Really angry. I'll get over it, but right now I'm absolutely raging mad, because I wasn't asked. I wasn't given the chance to inform anyone that, no, this movie was not a wise choice for my daughter. I wasn't consulted. Heck, I didn't even know she was at the movies!
So now, on the eve of her midterms, and after a week of problems at school, she is in full-blown PTSD mode. Yes, I know what to do. I know how to move into crisis mode and do what needs to be done. But I didn't choose this. Not now. Not when I feel so raw and beaten down myself.
Don't know what else to say without betraying her trust. Please remind me of your own ways of dealing with the PTSD monster. You 'trauma mama' readers out there -- what would you do in this situation? Any new wisdom? I'd love to hear, and would just love your support right now.
Going upstairs to enter the warzone, again.....