It’s happening more and more in response to LuLu’s explosions…I shut down. By the time I got us safely home from church last night, I was wiped out. I had plenty of other things to accomplish this evening, as it was only 8:30, but my brain was mush. And my body could barely move.

I actually snuggled and consoled LuLu, and she calmed down, only to flare again, so I gave her the additional medication she takes when she can’t calm down, and hurried her off to bed…mostly because I had had enough!

I can’t describe the “shut down” feeling to those who haven’t experienced it. I’m assuming it is secondary PTSD or in other words, my trauma response. And mine is definitely to freeze. I literally can’t move. To try to do anything productive is a huge waste of time. My mind is distracted and unable to concentrate on anything other than my own emotional turmoil. In many ways, this must be exactly what LuLu feels like as she starts to go into vapor lock.

Some days I’m able to keep my emotions out of this better than others. This always helps, if I’m able to do it. Problem is, darn it anyway, ,I’m human too. I don’t particularly want my car trashed (windows broken and pieces ripped out of the interior), so my emotions were both anger that she was trying to do that and a bit of fear that she would actually break things, hurt herself and hurt me.

At the height of her explosion, I considered calling the police. Her 90 lb body is capable of an incredible amount of destruction. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out my intention and picked up my cell phone. This did shift her behavior some (she began more self-hurting actions), but it didn’t cause things to subside. I had threatened her (I know better), and she was now even more in fear mode.

Of course I did not call them. I know other parents who do, and it’s the right choice for their family. Safety is priority number one for all of us, so there is definitely a time for law enforcement officers to be involved. Some children are able to change behaviors if they know that the authorities are on their way. For LuLu, though, I know it would be an incredibly traumatizing event. Since it is obvious that she has very little control over her actions once in vapor lock, I know she would still be explosive when they arrived, and would be in even worse shape if they tried to take her away. So, that will only occur if there is nothing else to be done to keep her/everyone safe.

As Super Dad and I debriefed the day (about the only thing I was able to coherently do last night), I told him that my logical brain recognizes that overall there is improvement. LuLu’s major explosions are less frequent. She’s been able to participate in church activities like never before, attended her sister’s chorus concert on Tuesday night with no problem, and continues to amaze me with her helpfulness around the house. But when the explosions come, they are doozies! And for us, it’s harder to take. We let our guard down when she’s doing better…then when something like this happens it feels like I’ve been hit by a 2x4. I mused that it was easier on me if she was just whiney and threatening all the time…because I could steel myself against it and easily slip into therapeutic mode. But this way, I’m caught off-guard and respond from my own emotions, disappointed once again at how her disabilities have restricted our lives.



Related Links:

Walking Wounded
Traumatic Stress – You can Catch It From Your Children
Issues Facing Adoptive Mothers of Special Needs Children

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