Sometimes it works itself out in ten to twenty minutes, or an hour or two... or three. Sometimes the root cause of the malaise floods out with the tears as the overwhelmed sentiment pours out. But sometimes, like last night, I am never the wiser.
The scenario is an angry outburst following my enforcing a bed time or suchlike. The displeasure is clear, but it is usually not caused by this particular enforcement, although it could be something which seems equally unworthy of such a huge reaction to me... Then a restlessness ensues where the afflicted soul stomps or paces, possibly banging into things, or actively hitting them. As I continue to futilely probe, at the same time as attempting to go to bed as I'm not seeing a solution to this situation anytime soon, the exasperation steps up a notch and he marches out of my room, often slamming the door. However, seconds later he is back, seemingly even more displeased. He may lie on my bed or put my hands on his face or his shoulder; he may sit crossed legged on my bedroom floor eyeballing me intensely, or lie on the floor kicking my bed. But despite my questions, even when formulated as yes/no answers he still can't seem to express what's wrong. I consider writing them down with ticky boxes, but by now am so physically and emotionally exhausted that I can't. I actually drift off to sleep at points, only to be woken by a sudden movement or noise that jolts my entire nervous system.
Last night's version lasted for four hours, but by 3am I was thankfully released into sleep, when my charge finally condescended to shower then collapse into his bed. This morning though, the emotional hangover hungover me weightily...even by the afternoon the density clustered around my head seemed to remain. At least he was fine this morning, although I remain somewhat scarred and fearful of the next episode.
I've lived with this for a number of years, first from my former partner, and now although thankfully far less frequently, with this new generation! It's just incredibly hard for a talker such as me to get it! Just say what's wrong, for goodness sake! Spit it out! Tell me so I can hug you and we can move on....but no. They can't, or at least not on that occasion. it's as if the words are trapped in the brain, overanalysed to such a point that they're tied up in mental knots. The exceptional eloquence of the person in question is reduced to grunts and groans and postures as they struggle for a way out of the mental prison they have encapsulated themselves in. It is truly heartbreaking to watch the inability for them to release themselves from torture...although that heartbreak is more often overpowered by the frustration of being able to do nothing to help.
But maybe the real issue here revolves around the nature of help. I am such a quick thinking, solution based, problem solver, I seem to think that all results are supposed to be instant. But with the deeper to process types, it doesn't necessarily work that way. Last night, as tortuous as it was, I just needed to be there....like a punch bag of sorts. Although I never found out the exact cause of angst, it had somehow worked itself out by today, with my sleep being the only casualty. So it seems to be a question, like so many other things, of enduring. Of slowing down and not looking to 'endgame'. To remain calm (even calmer than I did on this occasion....) and allow him to experience his emotions in his way, which is so different from mine. To know that words, although my own closest ally, don't work for everyone at all times. To take the punishment as one of the joys of motherhood and know that if I wasn't there to take it, everything would be even worse.
So what I need to do seem to be to gain a more Zen approach and remain present and yet detached. To be there, and to probe a little, just in case it's one of the shorter episodes...but to be prepared to go the long haul, knowing a few hours less sleep won't kill me... and to remember that some feelings just need to be left unsaid.
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