Learned helplessness

My child who is working so hard to heal still totally fascinates me.

To learn to survive, children with a history of trauma sometimes learn ways control their environment as a way to feel safe. To do so, they quickly discover that they can "play dumb" to get more things handed to them, to annoy others and be looked over. This puts them at an advantage in every situation. If you are receiving additional help, you can focus on your own safety. If you are annoying others, you have control over them. If you are being ignored or falling between the cracks, you are proving that no one else can be trusted in life. It feeds those hurting beliefs that are deeply ingrained in our children.

So, the short story? Our kids are unbelievably smart. Their brains are highly developed, just not the parts that are working for good!

Today one of my kids chose to play the "dumb" game with schoolwork. I kept tabs on the amount of time wasted as they acted as though they had forgotten how to read ... anything ... and pretended to have lost the entire concept of "instructions" and why on earth those random words would be wasting space at the top of a page.

Now, some of you with emotionally healthy children (and school teachers) are saying, "Hey! Kids do that all the time. Lots of kids don't follow instructions. What's the big deal?"

This is where I simply don't have enough bandwidth to explain the enormity of this learned helplessness. I know my child intimately. I have spent the vast majority of the last ten months with her. Most of my other kids DO fly through things, doing a quick job and not paying attention to details. This is quite the opposite. I watch this child fly through 20 problems, and refuse to answer one correctly ... and, bless their heart, it will be one of the simplest on the page (many times it will be identical to one they have already answered). Then, when they do finally move forward, they answer it perfectly, quickly and with absolutely no assistance. It is completely calculated. They don't rush through anything at this point in their life, because something might slip by them. They just doesn't feel safe enough for that, as of yet.

It's my job to stay playful and present to create a space that feels safe for them.


So, today it played out a little like this:

"Let me know when you're done pretending not to know all this stuff, and we'll move on."

A very (VERY) long while later (after moaning and crying and hoping desperately that their siblings would believe that I was asking so much more of them than they could ever possibly accomplish), they stood up and said, "I'm ready," and completed their last two assignments.

We addressed the fears behind the need to control. Then I explained that I'll help them practice this whole "playing dumb" thing so that they'll be even better the next time. Acted silly - almost ridiculous. Fought my tone so as not to sound sarcastic.

My child gets this amazing look during these moments. When I switch up consequences and try to stay one step ahead, they have a mixture of being proud that I'm a good mom to them, but not terribly happy that I'm a good mom to them! I just let them know that whether they love it or hate it, I will always be here and love them and never, ever leave them.

I love this kid so much, even when they're not exactly sure how to feel about me. They want to make it very difficult for me to love them. I just can't not.

So, I guess in a really small way, I understand those mixed emotions.


(super awesome photo by Steve Woods)