I offer a trigger warning today as I’m going to get specific about what I usually just call chronic childhood trauma. I encourage you to take any steps that help you hear sad or shocking information without ruining your day. Please. Most of us spend a bit of energy protecting ourselves from stories like these so read on but protect your own mental health.
I’ll describe 5 children I have known over the years and whose stories have echoed in my brain all this time. Our culture is big on trigger warnings these days and sometimes it seems like everyone is out to claim a history of trauma. It is not my place to debate what constitutes trauma for one person or another, but I doubt anyone will contest whether trauma is central to the situations I describe below. Remember: when any child is completely dependent upon an adult for sustenance and safety, any repeated violation of that trust is likely to constitute trauma and create neurological pathways that will persist long after the situation changes. Such a child may have now developed a worldview that does not see other humans as sources of comfort or support but, often, as pawns to be manipulated to get what they need.
Self-regulation keeps me on an even keel. My self-regulation helps me manage stress-loads and reduces the intensity of my impulses, resulting in my long-term well-being. When I am self-regulated, I am less inclined to panic attacks, debilitating anxiety, outbursts of anger, or self-doubt when faced with stressful situations. Each of these people was trying to navigate the world ill-prepared to do what most of us take for granted: getting through the day without bringing down hurt on ourselves or others.
I met J when he had just turned 15. His adoptive mother had placed him in the Residential Treatment Center (RTC) in response to his destruction of her home and physical assaults on her and others. J was born to a mother with significant cognitive deficits, with no other supports in place, and no training to feed a baby with a severe cleft palate. Beyond the cosmetic appearance of his lips and face, J had an opening in the roof of his mouth that made swallowing inefficient, messy, and frustrating; leaving him very hungry, very unhappy, and very noisy ALL THE TIME. One day when he was just a few months old, his mother took him grocery shopping. A fellow shopper offered to comfort the crying baby while she got her shopping done. By the end of the shopping trip, the fellow shopper had offered to take care of the baby permanently. J’s sleep deprived, overwhelmed mother consented. When a neighbor noticed that mom had returned without the baby who had kept the building awake for weeks, she notified the police. Amazingly, the woman and J were located, and J was placed in foster care. When I met him, he’d undergone the series of surgeries necessary to correct his cleft palate and had been in 13 different foster and adoptive homes as a result of his violent temper. Obviously, his problem with self-regulation was like that of a frustrated, hungry infant but now in a much larger, much more powerful body.
I met P when he was 6 years old and some combination of our institutions responsible for Mental Health and Child Protection decided to remove him from his home where he had sexually perpetrated on his 4-year-old sister. Eventually, I learned that his father had left before he was born and that a friend had assumed caretaking while his mother dragged herself out of a bout of serious postpartum depression. Somewhere in P’s early months, his 4-year-old brother who had been sexually assaulted by a cousin, assaulted the infant. I won’t go into those details here but by the time I met him, P would strategically wait until staff turned their back on him for a chance to thrust his hand down the pants of anyone within reach. Eventually, I directly learned of 3 generations of incest in this extended family. Only with this revelation was I able to convince his mother not to let him play in private with his little sister while on weekend passes. His problem with self-regulation was in his sexualized impulse control.
I met A when she was 22. I met her at a campsite in Texas. She was gorgeous. She was earnestly trying to figure out her value beyond her beauty. Her parents had exploited that beauty her entire life. She had been employed as a performer in pornography since early childhood. I remember feeling awkward about how open she was with this information until I realized that being seductive was part of her identity. Talking about her past was her first step out of that existence but shedding that well-trained seduction could only come later and with significant effort and support. If she didn’t talk about it, she would be doomed to unwanted advances over and over again while she unlearned old training. Her problem with self-regulation was in her unconscious yet overt seduction of anyone in her orbit.
R was born to a prostitute in Laredo. He had been raised around drug deals, violence, and poverty. He was 15 years old when I met him and academically gifted. In my mind, his trauma came from his community. I suspect he got some decent care as a newborn as he seemed capable of showing empathy and trusting others. He was, however, unable to see his intelligence as a way out of poverty. His street smarts were legendary and soon, he had replicated the life of a drug dealer in his new circumstances. When finally released back to his mother in Laredo, he was killed in a drug deal before his 18th birthday. His problem with self-regulation was in his inability to imagine a life different from the one he was born into.
M was the 8th pregnancy and born with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome to an alcoholic mother experiencing physical abuse at the hands of her husband resulting in multiple hospitalizations. The abuse didn’t stop during this or any other pregnancy. Her mother insisted on terminating M’s only pregnancy at age 15. She obtained her Government Equivalency Diploma at 25. M was a voracious reader but retained extraordinarily little. She had difficulty holding jobs and struggled with a gambling addiction. She died at the age of 60 of a rare auto immune disease. Her difficulty with self-regulation was in her vulnerability to being taken advantage of by others when she turned to them for important decisions.
As Dr. Perry puts it: it isn’t a question of what’s the matter with you, it’s all about what happened to you. These souls were doing their absolute best considering where they learned what seemed to work: J screamed for food, P brought pleasure as he knew it, A knew flirting kept people happy with her, R saw one way to put money in his pocket NOW, M turned to anyone willing to make decisions for her. Sadly, their survival skills just didn’t generalize to the broader world beyond the niche they knew so well. He also reminds us that our connections, not our adversity, best predict our successful navigation of the world. So keep on celebrating these dear ones. The more of us that do, the more likely they will be able to see past their imposed but familiar horizons and imagine a better future beyond.
Peace,
Cathy
