A flash of insight

It has been a long, slow process to figure out all that was/is going on with R. The first few years were tough. Really, really tough as we got to know her and really just navigated all of her fear and disregulation. There was no order to it all, no cause and effect. We were all drowning in a turbulent sea of fear and reaction. 

Then a few years ago we found the right combination of medicine that helped take the edge off her anxiety. Finally she had a little, tiny bit of margin where she could begin to feel our efforts to connect with her and make her feel safe. Much of her behavior was a mystery, but there were also moments of seeing things begin to sort themselves out and begin to make sense. 

Over these past few years she has continued to stabilize. She can feel comfort when she sits next to us and not spiral out of control. She exhibits significantly more regulated behavior so that we do have some idea of what to expect from day to day. We all began to really get to know each better and life felt more orderly. 

But the fall has always been challenging. Those first few years it was all challenging, so the fall didn't stand out. Then, as she became more organized in her behavior, these months began to stand out. The problem with one season coming only once a year, though, is it can be very difficult to discern a pattern both because it is so long until the next time rolls around and because one tends to forget. It was only last year that I finally put all the pieces together and really understand how disregulated she is during these months. 

Thus in the past week or so, we have seen a real uptick in anxiety and fear and sleeplessness and disassociation. Having pieced it all together last year, I was at least able to remind myself that this is a tough season. I have spent the past few Octobers sitting on the couch with R. next to me trying to keep her somewhat regulated. While time consuming, this is far better than being admitted to the hospital. 

This morning was particularly hard. She has been so tense the last few days she has been giving herself headaches. (And pain is something else that scares her and causes significant disregulation.) As I watched her today she couldn't even lower her shoulders she was carrying so much tension. I thought about this as I was putting on an extra sweater to run out to pick up H. from her garden group. The air was cool and I felt my muscles tense a little bit as I got used to the temperature. It was at this point that I started to put some pieces together....

While she was wearing long sleeves and long pants, she was acting all morning the same way my body felt as I stepped outside. She was holding her body as though she were cold. 

We haven't turned the heat on yet, so she could be cold.

Cold...

Fall is the beginning of the cold weather coming.

Winter in China is no fun particularly because buildings are only heated to the degree that the government allows which we would consider ridiculously cold.

We know she suffered extreme neglect before she was moved to a foster home. If supplies are limited, would she have been given enough layers to keep warm?

If I spent every winter chilled to the bone, I would dread the coming on cooler weather. Heck, I'm not always thrilled about it and I have layers of wool in my closet and effective central heating.

Dread...

Fear...

Bodily memory...

And there it was. The reason that late September and all of October have been so dreadful. Literally full of dread for her as her body anticipates freezing and discomfort on an epic scale. 

Once I got home I went upstairs and grabbed a wool sweater for her and took it downstairs. She had begun the now daily lament that her head hurt. (This alone is a minor miracle because for years she didn't have the bodily awareness to know why she felt horrible and fearful and certainly couldn't voice it to us.) I put the sweater on her and said, "Feeling cold must make you feel afraid. When you were in China I think you felt very, very cold during winter. Mommy and Daddy will always make sure that you have enough warm clothes and that we make sure our house is warm." As I voiced these things, she took a deep breath, relaxed more than she has in days, and started to cry against my shoulder. "I so cold in China," she replied. And we finished the day more regulated than I would have expected.

Is this the magic bullet? No, I'm sure it is not. It is one more step forward. It also gives her words and a reason for why she feels as she does. Before, she was at the mercy of whatever feelings were washing through her with no way to understand what was happening. It is very easy to assume that there is something wrong with you under those circumstances. To be given a reason that has nothing to do with how broken you see your body is a huge burden lifted. So our new script for her will be: I felt cold and it made me scared. Mommy and Daddy will keep me warm. I need to tell them when I feel cold so they can help. Judging by how much she has brought up her feelings of coldness since that conversation, this is really meeting her at a place that feels vital and important. 

And it makes me sad on several levels. The obvious one is that no child should feel so cold it creates a traumatic memory. But I am sad it has taken me six years to sort this out because it is such a simple thing to fix. I wear multiple wool sweaters through much of the winter, I'm more than happy to have R. join me in my sweater wearing. We could have relieved this particular fear so much earlier if we had only known. I realize, for all the reasons I outlined above, that there was no way we could have known before now, but still.