Walking Off Anger

GloriapicWhen the strain of keeping my composure, buttoning my mouth and retreating from potentially incendiary situations becomes too much, when I feel razor blades of venom about to spray from my mouth, I grab my phone and my earphones and I walk.

I walk the Anger Walk.

The Anger Walk takes half an hour, less than that if I’m top grade angry.

The Anger Walk is my way of processing the adrenaline which if left to course freely through my veins would bring the house down.  The soundtrack is very important.  The playlist is called ‘ANGRY’.  It starts angry, then gathers rhythm and energy and then attempts to repair and uplift.  Sometimes I’m not done stomping and fuming when I should be uplifting.

This afternoon as the sun was going down, a solitary figure strode along a muddy road, earphones poking out from beneath a woolly hat.  There was out loud singing.  Shouty singing.  Singing with punk attitude.  It was the sound of Vivaldi being murdered in the English countryside.

It was dark when I got home and the house was quiet.

RANTY RANT RANT

I need a new bag.  I need a bag which is big enough for an A4 pad and my A4 sized laptop.  It needs to have a few pockets for train tickets, keys, a tampax and earphones.  It needs to be hands-free.  Not a big ask I thought to myself TWO YEARS AGO when I started looking for one.

I do not need a small glittery clutch bag.  I will never need a small glittery clutch bag because they are completely fucking useless.  No, I need to carry stuff, you know stuff which one needs to earn living with.  I need something like a ……….. man bag, WHICH IS ALL I CAN FIND.  Either that, or a shopper for fuck’s sake.  Is that all you think women do, clutch and shop?

Neither do I want a black shiny nerd bag from the land that taste left behind. Nor do I want a plastic nightmare with gold clasps which looks like something my gran would have used.  And I’d rather not have a wipe clean ‘retro’ bag with cup cakes all over it.  I BLOODY HATE cupcakes.  Cupcakes do not say ‘please take me seriously’.

Will you please, shops, start making bags for REAL WOMEN WITH JOBS AND STUFF.  And while I’m on a roll, you could look at your shoe collections too.  Some of us actually walk in ours.

That’s better.

The Unofficial Guide to Adoptive Parenting

My second book ‘The Unofficial Guide to Adoptive Parenting‘ was published by Jessica Kingsley Publishers this week.  It took twelve years to produce; one year of writing and eleven years of research.

978-1-84905-536-9-sm

Adoptive parenting of children who have experienced loss and often neglect and abuse as well, is not like normal, average, everyday parenting. It took me a very long time to realise this and then to work out what that meant in real, practical terms.  I’ve been on loads of courses and workshops, I’ve read books and scoured YouTube for advice and much of this has been very good, but tends to be heavy on the ‘why’ and the ‘what not to do’ but a little less forthcoming when it comes to what to try in real life situations.  Most of us are the experts on what not to do and have the self-flagellation sticks of blame to prove it.

What I’ve always been desperate for is positive advice; strategies, ideas, techniques and clues which recognise that the front line of therapeutic parenting is messy, imperfect and mammothly difficult, but ultimately hopeful.

In The Unofficial Guide I’ve gathered together everything which has made sense and been effective, not just in our adoptive family but in those around me as well.  It covers everyday challenges like mealtimes and education and the more difficult stuff like stealing and anger.  It recognises that we don’t all feel super-therapeutic all of the time so there is forgiveness, repair and self care in there too.

Despite how hard adoptive parenting can be and has been for us at times, I remain relentlessly optimistic about the benefits of creating a therapeutic environment around a child who is hurting. It takes a lot of energy and it takes support.  The support around adoptive families is often woeful and confused with blame.  Blame is the opposite of support.

My greatest hope for The Unofficial Guide is that adoptive families find it supportive and authentic.  It’s been conceived of from our domestic frontline in all it’s brilliant and sometimes terrifying beauty; written and drawn and blogged and lived by all four of us.  It’s a bit sweary and raw in places, it’s rude and it’s jagged but it’s our paperback child and we’re very proud of it.

IMG_1532sm

Dr Bruce Perry speaks at the Adoption UK Conference 2014

Frankly I get pissed off with being told that developmental trauma isn’t a real thing.  Yesterday 250 people who live with the everyday realities of trauma in children gathered for the Adoption UK 2014 conference to listen to Dr Bruce Perry speak.  Not once were we told to put more structure in place, or to set up a system of rewards and sanctions, or to lecture more or to just pull ourselves together and grow some back bone.

It became clear to me quite early on that I was sharing my life with two children who see threat everywhere.  They see it in eye contact, tone of voice, they smell it in certain smells, they expect to result from the most benign of circumstances.  There is not a single week, or day, or hour or sometimes minute when I am not reminded that their inner working models are based around threat and the expectation that others are not well-intentioned.  I’m told that there is little scientific evidence for all this.  To that my response is, come and live in my house for a couple of weeks.

Now that’s off my chest, here are a a few of the most relevant things I learnt or was reminded of yesterday:

1.  The brain develops templates based on experience.  If it’s template for ‘person who I live with’ is lack of care/hurt/fear then this is what it will expect of future ‘person who I live with’ (or who teaches me or otherwise tries to care for me or who tells me to do stuff).  This is why I get accused of shouting, being threatening and hating everyone if I ask someone to take the rubbish out or brush their teeth.

2.  Shifting these templates takes consistency, permanency and persistence.  This is why I always feel I am fighting the templates (‘you are SHOUTING at me’/’I’m talking in a normal voice, see how quiet it is’/’STOP SHOUTING’/’I’m not shouting’/’yes you are, I hate you you child abuser’).

3.  The brain at first sees novelty as a threat (‘would you like to watch this programme with me about space?’/’no get lost, I hate you’/’shall I take that as a no then?’/’fuck off’).

4.  Our children are sensitised to threat.  (This is so obvious I can’t understand why it’s not accepted.)

5.  Children respond to stresses by fight, flight or dissociation.  I live with one of each, but both can use either, depending … They dysregulate easily (again, so obvious).

6.  A dysregulated child needs the support of a regulated adult. We have to act as their external regulatory system. A dysregulated adult cannot hope to help regulate a child. Ever.

7.  Self care is the most important part of therapeutic parenting/teaching etc #takingcare

8.  Rhythm calms dysregulated children; music (listening and playing), walking, cycling, bouncing, talking, car journeys.

9. Take a step back from a dysregulated child and lower your voice (reduce the perception of threat).

10.   Reward schemes are constructed with the assumption that children are choosing to be aggressive/figgety/chatty/gobby.  They are not.  They are dysregulated and therefore not operating in the thinking part of their brains.

11.  Children with poor templates around relationships need lots of space around them.  Try standing or sitting parallel to them.  This is why one of my children talks and talks and shares loads every evening that I drive him to his club.  Then he falls asleep (that’s the rhythmic thing about engines).  This could also be why children flip out at school when adults flood in around them at times of stress (again, obvious?).

12.  Children need regular time to dissociate i.e. veg out.  For us this is particularly noticeable after school.  Don’t hit them with ‘how was your day?’, or ‘do you have any homework?’  Give space and time and then go in gently (regulate then connect).

But what does this all this mean practically?  In our family it means playing music at mealtimes, making more time to massage each others shoulders and generally being a bit more mindful of trying to keep regulated, whilst all the while remembering that it’s not possible to get it right all the time.

National Adoption Week – Adopting Siblings

Eleven years ago Mr D and I left our home, just the two of us, and two hours later returned with two children, Jamie and Rose.  Jamie and Rose are birth siblings. National Adoption Week 2014 has the theme of siblings.  It can be a week which polarises adopters, prospective adopters, agencies and local authorities.  Unsupported families living in great difficulty don’t always appreciate the marketing of National Adoption Week (a gloss job?).  Those seeking families for children don’t always appreciate those in difficulty talking openly about their difficulties (pissing on the parade?). IMG_1414 In the interests of balance and honesty here are my thoughts about National Adoption Week and about adopting a brother and sister in particular.

1.  Keeping siblings together is thought to be a universally good thing.  Each situation is different.  Some siblings thrive together and some don’t.  The impact upon children of early neglect complicates sibling relationships greatly.  This is under-appreciated by many.

2.  I am still in a state of flux about whether Jamie and Rose should have been placed together.  They needed to maintain contact, but sometimes living together and sharing a family has been very challenging for them.  They’ve only recently become able to be in a room together without the presence of either Mr D or me.

3.  Families with adopted siblings should have support around them which takes account of the complex sibling dynamics of attachment and trauma.

4.  Being an adoptive parent has on occasion brought me to my knees and close to breakdown, but it has also taught me to appreciate small and precious moments.

5.  I would do it all again.

6.  The difficulties we’ve experienced would have been greatly alleviated if the services around us had been better quality and more understanding of our needs.

7.   Our family life is very different to other families around us, but this isn’t always necessarily a negative thing.  (Sometimes it is though.)

8.  Children who have experienced neglect and/or abuse require a different style of parenting from healthily raised children.  Not a bit different.  Very different.  Families need much more help with this than they are given but knowledge and training around therapeutic parenting is improving.

9.  With hindsight I’d be much more savvy.  I would talk to many more agencies and Local Authorities and opt for the one that offers the best long term post adoption support.  This is my number one tip for prospective adopters.

10.  Issues around lack of support aside, I remain convinced that done well (meaning with honesty, humanity and professionalism), adoption can be transformative for children (and their families).  It offers something with other options don’t find easy to achieve, and that’s permanence.

Adopting brothers and/or sisters is not for the faint-hearted.  It will change your life in ways you never imagined possible.  It may bring you to the very edge of what you thought you were capable of and then push you further.  It will cause you to see the world differently from other people, which can be great (‘I’m a much better person for having adopted our children’) but also not so great (‘where have my old friends gone?’).  It may also open up your life to a wealth of new experiences and boundless love and unexpected glorious moments. This is my experience*.

*other experiences are also available

The Open Nest Conference – Taking Care

There were all sorts of reasons to be nervous leading up to very first Open Nest Conference.  It was called Taking Care.  I hoped that everyone who was coming would feel we’d taken care.  How awful if it had been a bit rubbish and not deserved it’s title at all.

We are on the face of it, a motley crew – a bunch of speakers and trustees and delegates, adopters, adoptees and professionals, who had ‘got to know’ each other mainly on social media.  We are primarily parents, and worse than that many of us are mothers.  The mother’s union.  As Jazz said, we are the adoption WI.  It’s not always easy to carve out a space for yourself when you’re a not quite parent, without a job and with a head full of trauma which few other people understand.

How bloody marvellous it was then to spend the day amongst friends, getting to really know those we twitter know, not having to explain anything, finding so much common ground, not having to tip-toe around and laughing a lot (in that ‘I’M AWAY FOR A WHOLE WEEKEND’ way).  How marvellous it was to see Taking Care unfolding.

I came away with so much.

I learnt a lot from watching Severance again, particularly alongside Fran’s experience and views about contact and coping with past trauma.  It reminded me that despite similarities in experiences, everyone has a different story, if we just take care to listen.

I learnt that despite it’s misuse in some circles, social media can be a real force for good.

I learnt that yes, I’m not the only one who has discovered (not altogether great) things about myself through parenting a traumatised child in the wee small hours.

I learnt that importance of clear-sightedness and pragmatism in seeing what’s needed to support a community and just getting on and doing it, whether that’s online or in real life.

I also learnt that a special cable is required to connect a macbook to a projector.

My message to Open Nest Towers, as life hunkers down for a bit after a busy time, is this – you achieved something marvellous, through taking some care. Your conference well-deserved it’s name.

The Horse’s Mouth

I have of late been spending less time in my sad little office at home and more time going to conferences and training days.  It’s nice.  I get to put on proper clothes and speak to actual people.

Earlier in the week I went to the North West Adoption conference ‘The Post Adoption Support Challenge’ in Crewe to talk about the support that adoptive families need compared to what they often (or don’t often) receive.  It was based on a presentation I gave to the Department for Education which you can look at here.  I won’t bore you with the detail because it’s pretty obvious stuff about not buying into the ‘they’ll get over it’ myths and giving families fancy things like named social workers and access to regular and free small group training.

IMG_1437

What I’m learning from taking part in these sorts of events is the power of the ‘voice of the user’ (or as I was referred to on Monday ‘the horse’s mouth’).  As an independent person (i.e. a bit self-employed) I get to say what I think, not rudely or offensively, but kind of simply and straightforwardly and with respect for those doing a difficult job and taking difficult decisions. I don’t have to worry about my income streams, or my customers, or my employers, which is kind of psychologically (if not economically) liberating.

Many of the other presentations, including Edward Timpson’s keynote speech demonstrated that the ‘user’ voice is at last dribbling down into and influencing policy and practice.  Professor Julie Selywn presented on her research ‘Beyond the Order’, which gives the leading role to those families who were interviewed: their quotes sing out of the research.  Rob James, Head of Behaviour at Brynllywarch School talked about understanding children through their behaviour, not imposing our own values upon them and why we should protect and not punish children in crisis.

IMG_1441

How long it will be before this interest in the user voice translates to real change for all of us is hard to tell.  In some areas of the country the improvements are already noticeable and impressive.  In others, like where I live, things feel worse in terms of support for adopters than they ever have.  The common thread in areas where support is improving seems to be proper engagement with users.  There’s no engagement at all here.   So this optimistic horse’s mouth is remaining cautiously optimistic for now..

The final conference speech was made by Hugh Thornbery, the Chief Executive of Adoption UK.  He said,

‘if you get beneficiaries of a service involved in its design, it is more likely to be successful, to meet needs and to be used’.

Well said, and I’d add something to that; it could well be better value for money too.

Twelve Things I Wish I Liked

This weekend we headed off to the fells and tried a version of geo-caching, called surprise child-caching.  It goes something like this; plan walk, look forward to walk and therapeutic nature of ‘the outdoors’, make lunch, park car, head off into remoteness, see not another single other person, at most remote point avoid conflict with child, do well but fail anyway, watch child stomp off into further remoteness, walk a bit, eat lunch, stroke horse, spend much time searching for child, find child, stupidly expect child to be sorry, give child lunch, watch child throw rocks at other child’s head, march to the car in a boil of silent rage, drive to supermarket, procure beer and aero, self-medicate.

Whilst Mr D and I were marching everyone back to the car we fended off temporary insanity by thinking of all the things we wished we liked, those things which give other people so much pleasure and which might brighten up our lives if only we, well, got any pleasure out of them.  This is not an entirely positive way to spend one’s time, but you have to understand we find our laughs where we can at the moment. Here are mine:

1  Autumn

Oh the autumn colours, the fruits, the walks amongst the crunching leaves, the bonfires.  Nope. It last about five minutes and it leads to something horrible – winter. Give me spring or summer any day.

2  Olives

The level of enjoyment olive-lovers get from consuming a small bowl of olives is only comparable to my consuming a sizeable aero or a share size bag of Walkers Sensations but is not followed by the self-loathing and false promises.

3  Strictly Come Dancing

I just don’t get it; the spangles, the cheesy grinning, the orange skin, the cover music, the dancing.  I wish I did. It would make Saturday evenings something to really look forward to.

4  Facebook

Before I went on to Facebook, all I ever heard about was everything exciting I was missing due to not being on Facebook.  I must have joined the wrong part of Facebook.

5  Scrabble

It makes me alternate between slipping into a coma and wanting to punch people.

6  M&S Food Hall

The reality is such a long way from the television adverts.

7 Baths

Great for about five minutes, then coolish and boring, or dizzyingly hot.

8  Dan Brown

I say Dan Brown, but what I really mean is many ‘International Bestsellers’ that lots of people rave about.  It makes reading for pure escapism difficult and accusations of literary snobbery fair.

9  Woolly Jumpers

So natural, so cosy, so on trend. SO ITCHY.

10  Religion

It’s just not for me, but sometimes I think it might be better than living in an universe of infinite meaningless and randomness.

11  Party Politics

To be able to pin ones colours to either blue, red, yellow or green would I imagine bring peace of mind and certainty. I like and dislike bits of them all.  It turns the simple act of buying newspaper into a complex decision-making process.  Deciding who to vote for gives me a migraine.

12 Running

There are many positives about running, but all are out-weighed by its overwhelming dullness.  The same routes over and over, the discomfort, the ‘miss a couple of runs and lose 50% of your fitness’?  No.  And do I want to hear all about your 5ks and your 10ks and your tapers and your carb-loading.  No I don’t. No one does.

To move towards positivity, which I’m sure you’ll agree is a more worthy and harmonious pursuit than all this dreadful negativity I shall be putting some thought into things which increase my general happiness and the general happiness of those around me.  I shall be preparing ‘The Venn Diagram of Happiness’ and we’ll see what if anything is in the middle.  We’ll also see if ‘tracking child through remote countryside’ appears anywhere at all.

 

Agent Provocateur

Every conversation a confrontation. Every request a battle. Rising emotions met with a smirk.

Rules are important, for others. Those others who break the rules are scum. Pure and simple. But there’s no rules allowed here.  You want rules?  You delusional old fool.  Put them in the bin, with dinner.

Rudeness (it’s more than rudeness, but we call it that to avoid calling a spade a spade) chips away at the soul. Soul destroying. Protect the soul and the peace by slicing away parts of yourself. Soon there will be nothing left.

Walk away. Stay calm. Stay regulated. Describe rising anger, but don’t let it see the light of day. An overwhelming anger. Technicolour anger. Not allowed to be angry. (Anger isn’t a real emotion.) How dare.you.speak.to.me.like.that.

No one in my life has ever spoken to me like that.

An urge to hurl a plate at a window. To run into the street and scream and lie in the road and be taken away and not to care anymore. Or to drive. Away from here. And cry like someone has died. (Someone has died.)

You don’t mean it? Repair and recovery? Right now? An emptiness of instant words and empty-headed reconciliation. Lost for words.

Day-in-day-out. Relentless. Soul destroying.

You want the silver lining? Right now I don’t have one to give.

The Open Nest Conference 2014

Layout 1

As a new charity The Open Nest is developing in the open and involving those with experience of many aspects of adoption. It has fortuitously been born at a time when social media is enabling scattered groups of people to connect, share and support each other and is engaging with the adoption ‘community’ in ways which some of the larger charities are struggling to.

I’m a trustee of The Open Nest and proud to be so. I’ve had a lot of time to think about the support we’ve needed as a family and since the publication of No Matter What and my involvement with the DfE have listened to many other families’ experiences too.  It’s satisfying to be able to direct at least some of that into something positive and hopeful.

Our first conference takes place on 18 October at the Royal York Hotel, in York.  The 18 October is a Saturday, because we know that some of you have actual jobs and children who need to be collected from school from someone they know well.  The cost is £25 because we know that sometimes it’s difficult to return to work when you parent a child with attachment difficulties.  The hotel is next to the station because we know that life can be complicated enough without google maps.

The speakers include Fran Proctor, an adoptee who has taught me more about the healing process following trauma than anyone, and two inspirational women who have established We Are Family, a fresh approach to support groups and networking in North London.

Amanda will be screening, for only the second time, a ground-breaking documentary about her and her daughter Jazz’s experiences.  I was there at the first screening and can barely express the depth of impact it had upon the audience.  It is a stunning piece of film.

For those who want to find out more about how to find support both online and ‘in real life’ Sarah and Vicki from The Adoption Social will explaining how to do this and what’s on offer.  They will be facilitating some social time because we know that sometimes the most useful part of a conference is meeting others in a similar situation.

Al Coates is an adoptive father, social worker and blogger and will be talking about the complexities of adoption which are sometimes over-looked.  If you use social media you may have come across him and his engaging writing.

And me, well I’m going to be looking at ways we can advocate on behalf of our children, particularly at school.  I spent some years working in industry as a negotiator, so let’s just say I’ll be drawing on some of that experience, as well as some crushingly terrible mistakes I made in the early days, which I can (almost) laugh about now.

If you are an adopter, an adoptee, or someone supporting an adoptive family in either a professional or personal capacity then please come along.  You will be most welcome.  Come and join in with the freshest, most creative, new charity kid on the block.