[Issue #26] Parenting with PTSD
A research-based exploration on being a good enough parent while struggling with mental health
“There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots, the other wings.”
- W. Hodding Carter
One of the familial roles I’ve struggled with most is the role of parent.
Being in therapy has been incredibly helpful with learning to parent (and therefore, learning to re-parent myself, which we all need to do at some point) because I have someone I trust and can rely on to give me good parenting advice and guidance. My aim with this article is to point you in the direction of being a good enough parent, like my own therapist does for me.
There’s a big problem with the way we, as a society, typically perceive PTSD and other mental health disorders. The problem is that we tend to think people with PTSD and other mental health disorders are abusive, violent, or otherwise obtuse. And this perpetuated myth is a large factor in why I began this newsletter.
We have power.
We have power over our reactions, thoughts, and behaviors linking to both. While PTSD and complex trauma can change the way we perceive the world, people we love, and ourselves, it’s our own external reactivity that can be aggressive, or in some cases, abusive (we’ll explore the issue of abuse by itself later this year).
To build and maintain safe, healthy relationships we must become acutely aware of our reactions and external behaviors because that is where PTSD makes navigating complex and emotionally charged situations (or conversations) feel jarring and spacious, kind of like a Jackson Pollock painting.
Before I met my wife, I considered myself good with kids. People would tell me I was good with kids, too, so when my life took a 180 and I went from single, all by myself to a family with young kids and expectations, I walked into the challenge willingly, even if naively.
Probably the biggest lesson I’ve learned since becoming a (step) parent is that parenting is the hardest thing in the world. It’s harder than going to war. It’s harder than adjusting to home life after a long stint away, or adjusting to big changes. It’s harder than setting tough boundaries with loved ones. It’s more difficult than writing a novel. At least, that’s how it has been was for me (still sometimes is).
Parenting is grueling. It’s filled with emotional chaos and general un-tidiness, full laundry baskets (which I’ve had to make my peace with), unmatched socks, a never-ending barrage of dirty dishes and missing spoons I still haven’t found.
And, much like anything in life, the silver lining of parenting is evident every single day, if you’re present for it. It’s evident in the smiles, the giggles, the always changing and morphing of individualism in each kid. Parenting showcases what it is, what it means, to be human.
Since my intensive therapy stint in California (check out this issue on my 3 week experience in intensive PTSD therapy), I’ve noticed a much larger enjoyment of the kids than I have previously. Previously, the old adage, “children should be seen, not heard” had settled somewhere inside and has since begun to evaporate, taking a lot of my resentment and anger about parts of my missed childhood with it.
This, of course, led me to a question:
Why is parenting so difficult? Is it this hard for everyone, or just people who struggle with PTSD and mental health?
We explored emotion regulation in a previous issue and how PTSD affects the brain. Understanding the foundational pieces of each will now help us understand why parenting is affected and what we can do about it.
One of the fundamental parts of being a good enough parent is being able to regulate our own emotions, especially in instances where there is misbehavior or inappropriate behavior from the kids. If we become so emotionally distressed from the sound of a toddler throwing a tantrum (I certainly did) that our reaction is one of yelling or other aggressive behavior, we unintentionally hinder our relationships with our kids. I don’t share vulnerable things with strangers because I don’t know if they’re safe or trustworthy. Why should we expect our children to open up to us about their interior lives when they don’t feel safe (or equipped) to do so?
Before we dive into the science and find an answer to our question, in case you need a quick refresher, I’ve created a graphic (below) that lists out the most common symptoms of PTSD - knowing these symptoms will be helpful in our further exploration of understanding the complex relationship of parenting with PTSD.
A mini review article published on Frontiers entitled, “Parenting with PTSD: A Review of Research on the Influence of PTSD on Parent-Child Functioning in Military and Veteran Families” seeks to answer our question about the affects PTSD has on parenting:
“The parent-child relationship may be adversely impacted if behavioral avoidance symptoms interfere with participating in parent-child activities or emotional numbing symptoms interfere with affective engagement and expression...”
“Supporting this view are several studies from Vietnam era samples implicating the avoidance symptoms of PTSD as being particularly deleterious to parenting...”“In turn, the family system, including children, may accommodate avoidance symptoms by facilitating avoidance behaviors, thereby further reinforcing this process and maintaining PTSD symptoms.”
This is particularly important because avoidance is one of many PTSD symptoms, one of the more common symptoms, and can manifest in all sorts of ways. Avoidance can be spending most of our time inside a safe environment, rarely popping up for air, leaving our loved ones missing our presence and interaction. Avoidance can be vegging in front of the TV instead of facing whatever it is we’re trying to run away from. Avoidance can be exercising more than necessary, and deliberately (or subconsciously) choosing to be alone rather than with people we enjoy and love.
The trouble is, of course, as the study above states, once we avoid long enough, our family (or friends) are likely to slowly adapt to our avoidance, giving us the space we are (clearly, to them) asking for. This leads to further feelings of disconnect and loneliness, and PTSD is notorious for its ability to leave us feeling gray shades of loneliness and frightening despair.
Why do PTSD and complex trauma impact how we react and respond to our children’s experiences and emotions in such an astounding way?
I found a dissertation (written by Molly Franz in 2018) entitled “PTSD and Dysfunctional Parenting: Emotional and Biological Mechanisms” which seeks to answer this question:
“Because discipline encounters with children can generate negative emotions, the redirection of attention toward reducing one’s own emotional distress among individuals with PTSD may result in maladaptive parenting responses.”
“Specifically, mothers with PTSD may engage with children in a more hostile manner in an attempt to suppress emotionally aversive child behavior as quickly as possible, or “give in” to their child in an attempt to spare themselves the experience of negative emotions.”
When you have complex PTSD, you’re on high alert all the time and everyone could become the enemy at any time (even the ones you love, and sometimes, especially the ones you love). That’s not great for parenting - I don’t think many parents want to see their beautiful child as the enemy and treat them with hostility, but PTSD blurs the lines between past experiences and present moment. And our brains will do anything to ensure we don’t get hurt in the same way again.
The dissertation further supports the link between parental emotion regulation and child emotion regulation:
“Interactions in which mothers must manage child misbehavior that is largely out of their control often elicit negative parental emotions. Frequency and intensity of these emotions, in turn, may potentiate or inhibit certain parenting behaviors in an attempt to maintain or change child behavior. Consequently, effective parenting responses to child misbehavior are believed to require significant emotion regulation.”
“Research to date consistently reveals predicted associations between experienced emotion, emotion regulation, and parenting behaviors. Recent meta-analyses support broad linkages between negative emotions and hostile parenting and, conversely, between positive emotions and supportive parenting. Observations of mother-child interactions reveal that mothers who report experiencing greater negative emotion are more likely to engage in harsh/overreactive and lax/permissive discipline behaviors.”
It seems, at least in the research I could find, that emotion regulation, hypervigilance, and trust are the three main components to being a good enough parent and are also the same main three components that get rattled by PTSD and trauma. Because PTSD messes with our nervous system, it’s important for us to use all the skills we have in our toolbox when it comes to parenting.
If we can get a handle on regulating our own emotions (especially in times of distress and chaos), our chances of being a good enough parent multiply. If we don’t get our shit together, our children will suffer because we’ll get pulled into the flood of emotional overwhelm:
“With increasing intensity of negative emotion, parents may even experience a sense of emotional flooding. Flooding, a construct originally conceptualized by [Dr. John] Gottman (1993), refers to the experience of unexpected negative emotions that are intense, overwhelming, and disorganizing, and sometimes result in the individual terminating that interaction by whatever means necessary.”
We want to be a wise mentor to our children, treating them with kindness, respect, and dignity. It’s difficult to do that when we’re stuck in a trigger bubble of our own shit. Learning emotion regulation is a critical skill to have finely tuned, at the ready, especially as a parent.
Stomping away when you’re 6 is totally normal and even expected. Stomping away at 36 tells us we have some work to do.
This week, I want to reflect on my own parenting and ways in which I choose to engage and interact with the kids, so here’s a couple parting questions:
In what ways have you been a good enough parent? How might you expand on those times and create more of them?
Has your mental health impacted your parenting?
“I believe there is one true tenet to being a good enough parent and that is: don’t be an asshole to your kids.”
-Adrian Purchas
More Resources for Parents:
The National Child Traumatic Stress Network is a parental resource that has a lost of handouts and info sheets on managing different types of trauma, from mass-violence (like school shootings) to natural disasters;
This PDF is abundant in helpful information about parenting while working through past trauma-
A note from the authors: “As trauma therapists working with individuals with complex histories, we found we were lacking a resource which provided accessible information about the impact of childhood trauma on parenting. In the pages below, it is our goal to illuminate some of the challenges inherent in parenting as a survivor of past trauma and adversity. We offer suggestions to support parents in building increased self-awareness and self-compassion, as well as skills to better care for ourselves and our children. It is important to note some parents may experience one or several of the challenges…”
The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration has some good information for parents and caregivers;
The American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry has information and resources for parents and caretakers.
Your family photo is absolutely adorable...
Thank you for bringing forth this seldom [almost never] discussed topic of the intersection of chronic conditions with parenting. I don't have kids [apart from myself who I am learning how to re-parent ;-)], despite keen interest in developmental issues, but can see how hard a balancing act that would be. ps a children's psychotherapist friend of mine, Louis Weinstock, has written an excellent book, which I highly recommended to everyone. It is called "How the World is Making Our Children Mad and What to Do About It: A field guide to raising empowered children and growing a more beautiful world".