Lesson #1: Online support groups are amazing and necessary, but pale in comparison to in-person support.
I don't get out much.
I'm an introvert with a mild case of Only Child Syndrome. I worry about the judgment of others and burst into very dramatic tears when I think I've done something to upset someone I consider a friend. I have a hard time understanding the nuances of my interpersonal relationships outside of my husband, my childhood friends, and my mom, so I constantly worry I'll screw up blossoming friendships.
My heart races and I feel a little nauseous when I'm out of my comfort zone, and things get really serious when I'm not completely in charge of my plans. I never carpool on the rare occasions I get together with friends because I need to be able to leave at my leisure. Riding with someone robs me of that freedom. I prefer quiet environments that allow me to have my own space, and I struggle with unexpected physical contact... I lived in Hawaii for six years and never got comfortable with the "greeting kiss."
At the same time, I crave social attention. I want a million friends, I want to be invited places, I want to have one of those "girl friendships" I see on TV shows and movies... You know, where my BFF and I get in our pajamas and get a little cuddly as we bond over the latest chick-flick.
And that's why I love the internet. I'm great at online friendships that don't require that up-close, face-to-face, outside-of-my-house-so-I-should-get-dressed interaction of "real" friendships. I can find any type of person I want to be friends with on the 'net... Trauma Moms, moms in general, people who like the HBO show The Leftovers (seriously... that show is amazing), and we don't have to go through that tedious small-talk to deduce good conversational topics that's so common in "real life."
I heard about the BeTA retreat a while back via this blog and part of me really wanted to go. It sounded amazing... Four days with other moms who struggle with their traumatized children?! How cool! Right? I spent an hour or two digging deeper into the internet, trying to find out all I could about this retreat... and then I decided it sounded like "too much" for me to handle and put it out of my mind.
Then, a few months ago, one of my online friends told me I should attend the BeTA retreat. I hemmed and hawed a little, but eventually decided to take her advice. I took a few deep breaths, bit that bullet, and signed up.
The organizers of this amazing event added me to some groups where I could ask a million questions (I did) and talk to other moms who planned on attending the 2016 retreat (I did!). I made friends in the groups and when I left for the retreat I felt excited about meeting all these people in person!
... And then I got there.
Things were pretty crazy at the event's location that first day. There were over 100 women milling around between houses, and most of them seemed to already know each other. As I walked up to the main house, I saw women hugging and squealing with delight, and I started shaking. I walked into the greeting house and stood just outside of the kitchen, silently pleading with my eyes for someone - anyone - to come and take me under their wing.
As the day wore on, I continued to search for my sense of belonging. I started talking to a few of the ladies but I didn't quite find my groove that first night. I was tired from driving the seven hours it took to get there and from being up for nearly 24 hours (nerves!), and I was too shy to push my way into the dozens of conversations happening around me. Almost everyone else looked like they were having a great time, and I cursed my socially-awkward self for daring to leave the comfort of my house in an attempt to make friends. I looked around and thought to myself, Well. Clearly this was a mistake. I'm going to leave in the morning.
The next day, I grabbed one of my bags and walked a block to my car, determined to get out of there after I attended a class on Trust-Based Relational Intervention. But I didn't have my keys. I retrieved my keys, walked back to my car, and this time realized I'd left my bag on the bed in my room. I let a string of expletives fly and blinked back a few tears of frustration.
Clearly, the universe wanted me to stay at this retreat.
I lit a cigarette and pondered my predicament. I thought about all the other times I left my bubble of comfort in an attempt to do something new - sleepaway summer camps, sports teams, choir groups, etc. I always had an escape plan for those (Call mom to come get me!), and I had one yet again (hop in the car and GTFO).
I sighed. What if I don't engage my escape plan this time? I thought. Everyone else looks like they're having fun. Surely I can have fun, too!
I decided to give it the day.
And that was one of the best decisions of my life!!
As a writer, it troubles me that I can't find the words to accurately describe how absolutely amazing and wonderful it was to be literally surrounded by moms raising kids affected by trauma.
Imagine being in a place where saying the words "sticker chart" elicits frustrated groans from literally every other person in the room.
Imagine yourself at dinner with 15 other moms, and imagine you're in the middle of an engrossing and emotional story about your kids' wild behavior, so someone takes your plate to the kitchen for you because they don't want you to have to stop venting.
Imagine telling a group of people, "I don't like it when people do [insert disliked behavior here]," and watching as everyone avoids engaging in that behavior around you for the entire weekend (as opposed to our kids who would actively, obsessively engage in said behavior!).
Imagine someone hugging you and whispering, "I understand."
Imagine wiping a tear from someone's cheek, and them doing the same for you.
Imagine yourself laughing, and I mean really laughing. Big, raucous, belly-shaking laughs. And then imagine laughing even harder because your friend erupts in the most joyful, carefree laugh you've heard in ages.
Online message boards and support groups are amazing, but as much as I love the internet, I now know that it's not enough to sustain my sanity.
I needed to find "my people."
We all do.
So, I encourage all of you to attend an event geared toward trauma parents. There are so many different organizations that have cropped up to help us navigate the shark-infested waters of our lives, and most organizations have events from time to time. If you do some Googling, I guarantee that you'll stumble across something that speaks to you, that makes you want to get out of your house and meet people who will actually be able to relate to you.
Pick one. And go. Maybe attending one of those events will transform you.
But even if you don't have an amazing, life-changing, soul-feeding experience?
At least you tried.
And, because you tried...
You know that you can try again.
This post is also available at my new website Trauma Mama Drama. If you enjoy reading my blog, remember to update your feeds, emails and bookmarks with the new link, because eventually I will only post updates on the new site's blog.
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