Nervous System Management

Self-Regulation, Coregulation, Mediation and Repair On Repeat

Nervous Systems

I have been functioning at very low mental/emotional capacity for the last several weeks, and a pattern has emerged in the intensity with which I am self-regulating, and the frequency with which I veer towards calming all the nervous systems, not just mine. I am actively practicing increasing my capacity for meeting the present moment, and it feels like finally, finally, I have worn enough grooves in the neural pathways that this is the easier path to start down.

Is this the next stage of integration?

If you’re a subscriber, you probably know I have cancer. Here’s the latest on that.

The latest, latest, is that I am on dexamethasone which makes me antsy and unable to sleep, but does help sometimes with my bone pain. I am trying to counter the sleeplessness with THC (the narcotics we tried were too much) but the pscyotropic effects last into the day and make me a) very grumpy; b) super sensitive to any noise (think clanking dishes; screeches from a ten year old; high-pitched whining; one person talking to me while a second and third make noise; two people talking to me; three people talking to me; three people talking to me while the dog stares at me because there’s seven and a half minutes until dinner time; any white noise - kettle, extractor fan). I can’t seem to separate out sounds and my brain short circuits; c) headachy/tired/like someone poured molasses inside my head; d) unable to switch between cognitive tasks easily. When my attention is called away it’s jarring. Basically, my whole nervous system is moving from one jolting moment to another.

My needs for ease, peace, and space are constantly unmet. And I find myself repeatedly looking to self-regulate because I am aware that a trigger, hot and bubbling like magma just below my imagined mantle of warm, caring, supportive motherhood is ready to come to the surface. I often fear the “warmth” is just going to shoot straight over into “burn” mode.

Another new experience is the consistency with which this ever-present undercurrent of dysregulation feels separate, somehow. I can see it, observe it, know (at least, in theory) that it is not because one child just air-flicked the other, but it’s because the medicine is making everything so much harder to absorb. It’s not me. It’s not fact, it’s feeling. It’s something to watch. That separation, the observation (the thc is causing the howling to make my head rattle and I feel overwhelmed because I need peace) takes me out of the mindset that I must fix the other person in front of me (I literally sometimes have a visual of reaching out and smacking said person in front of me), and into the mindset that I need to self-regulate, NOW. From there I can be self-responsible.

Self Regulation

In my desperation to ground myself against the agitation of the dexamethasone, I might practice a total of three two sun salutations and meditate for 10 minutes. Journaling is also helpful. But it’s all icing on the cake. What is most effective is noise reduction.

Here’s what I look like much of the time.

The ear defenders are my first line of acute nervous system care. I keep them in a drawer in the kitchen for speedy access. They dampen the noise and I can remain both physically and mentally present. I can look my kiddos in the eye instead of avoiding interaction.

In this state where I am actively self-regulating, I have the option to move into co-regulation and begin the process of listening.

Co-Regulation

As always, the children are tuning forks for my energy and anything that lands in their awareness as “mummy isn’t available” (because of pain/brain fog/annoyance) and which likely translates in their bodies as a lack of safety, comes out in needling; name-calling; screeching; whining; OUCH YOU HURT ME!; MUMMY, SIBLING JUST SAID SUCH AND SUCH!; MUMMY! SIBLING IS IN MY ROOM!; MUMMY, MUMMY, MUMMY, MUMMY!

Argh!

In addition, one or both are also learning the skills of impulse control, boredom tolerance, frustration tolerance and more impulse control.

Co-regulation is whatever is going to soothe their nervous system in a given moment and let their bodies know they’re safe. When they don’t have the skills to do it, I can share my own inner calm. Usually, it comes when I can stay present, make eye contact, breathe and listen.

Sometimes it happens when I physically put my body between the two of them, or move to help funnel a body into another room because impulse control support is needed.

In this season of our life, co-regulation seems to be almost always necessary.

Sometimes, within the space of two minutes, there’s a cycle of near-trigger, self-regulation, co-regulation. I’ll be all self-regulated and calm and deliberately, slowly (smugly?) move my body to intercept impulse control, and one child will yell at me, “DON’T HIT ME!” which suddenly stimulates so much anger because my needs for honesty, being seen, and emotional safety are suddenly acutely unmet.

A) I don’t hit my children, b) I’m not going to hit this child, c) I haven’t ever hit this child but just when they yell “DON’T HIT ME!” I want to to simultaneously scream at them I’m not going to f**king hit you while also maybe smack them around the head a bit.

And then I breathe, grab my ear defenders and remember it’s just this moment. And I have practiced the idea that I can get my need for space met later. It doesn’t have to be right now. What do I need to do to calm myself and let this child know that they’re safe?

Oh look, my need for peace just got met.

“Tell me what happened,” I sometimes say.

“Oh, so you were wanting xyz and instead this thing happened?”

“I’m so sorry this happened again. No I’m not going to give your sibling to an orphanage.”

There is no one answer in any given moment, nor the same answer every time. It takes sensitive observation of what I am needing, what kiddos are needing, and what’s possible. What’s going on for everyone’s bodies right now? And I often get it wrong. One strategy that may co-regulate today might create tension tomorrow. My own present silence that might be settling this morning could ellicit, “You don’t even care!” this afternoon. At breakfast, we might enjoy a crossword together. Tomorrow if I suggest it, it may generate an explosion of screeches.

Ultimately, they are seen, heard and understood, and their bodies feel safe.

Mediation

When sibling fighting looks like crying and “She always!” and “He never!” and “I hate them,” and “Why can’t we just do it my way,” my impulse to run in and fix and lay down the law and tell them how it’s going to be is still strong. But lately, mostly, I can be present and ask questions.

“I hear you wanting xyz. I hear your frustration.”

“What do you think is possible right now that might work for both of you, even if it’s not your first choice?”

“You are wanting this, and your sibling wants that. Can you imagine a way forward that would work for both of you?”

The principle that I discovered early on is so present: When children are seen and heard and understood they gain the mental and emotional capacity to solve their own problems.

Repair

And still, I’m grumpy, and I worry about how this affects the children - to have a grumpy mother who is just so very annoyed all the time. These are more my fears than reality, but the truth is there’s lots of room to repair and I am doing that daily.

“I am so sorry that I’m so grumpy at the moment. I want to make sure again that you know it’s not because of you.”

“You’re not that grumpy.”

“Well I feel grumpy and I want to be warm and caring and loving, and for you to know that I love you no matter what. It’s not because of you, it’s because of the medicine. I want you to feel safe, and not worried if I’m annoyed.”

“I know. I know it’s the medicine Mummy. I know you’re trying to be patient. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Acknowledging my own behaviours and the impact of them - the needs left unmet - is still a difficult practice for me, but it’s getting easier and I see, daily, the ripple effect that it has on my family. My children will spontaneously apologize to me, to each other, to their dad.

Shameless accountability generates open-hearted discussions.

The Long Game

At some point in the past I’ve had the story that if I just respond this way, today, it’ll all be fixed. Like if I just cut out sugar for the next week. Or if I take a walk this afternoon. But mattering and belonging are not a try-it-this-afternoon diet; it’s a lifestyle choice. It’s a way I want to be in the world. And that means I choose in any given moment between do I want to be helpful or controlling?

I was lamenting this cycle of dysregulation, coregulation, mediation and repair to a friend, because I’m exhausted and it seems never-ending and WHY CAN’T I HAVE SOME PEACE?? And she said something to the effect, I think maybe you can’t see how much your children’s bodies are absorbing all this attunement.

It’s baby steps in a long, long game.

The principles are still the same.

My nervous system, regulated or not, affects the children.

Children need to be seen and heard and understood. And when they are, their nervous systems are soothed and they have more space and capacity for solving their own conflicts.

Misattunement is inevitable. It’s the speedy repair that is important in creating a relationship where children know in their bones that they matter and they belong.

Attunement and coregulation are the scaffolding of future self-regulation.

How was all this to hear?

COMING SOON

Self-responsible discourse.

Where disconnection can come in and what it can look like to stay connected.

Needs-based conversations with kiddos around the election.

What that looks like.