by Jeanne Denney
It happens less than it used to, but still more than I wish. Often it happens so suddenly that it catches me by surprise and I have no idea where it came from; and leaves just as suddenly, like a hit-and-run driver or a short-term hijacking. I have lived with it for most of my life as a parent. It’s a condition I’ve nicknamedToxic Parent Brain (TPB) – that sudden state of revulsion – of myself as a parent and my children as children. It’s a jumbled state of fear, panic, shame, self-recrimination, over-analysis, anger, projection and worry, shaken and stirred into a toxic cocktail that occasionally overshadows much of my happiness and joy in being a parent. It is a dark cloud that I am suddenly enveloped in and then have to find a way to navigate through. My work with other parents has confirmed to me that I am not alone in this brain state. There are legions of us that struggle to manage it in guilt-ridden silence.
Encountering Toxic Parent Brain
Almost every parent will have to deal with Toxic Parent Brain at one time or another. In my case it is what happens when I find myself confronted with an experience of parenting that is not in accord with my inner image of either the Good Parent or the Ideal Child. Usually TPB strikes when my personal resilience and emotional resources are low.
That this state of mind has to do with my brain neurology is clear to me from the years I have spent as Mark Brady’s friend, bolstered additionally by my own study in neuroscience and somatic psychology. It is often highlighted by the sudden onset and the irrational conclusions I draw from seemingly innocuous events. For example, walking into the house and finding my thirteen year old children (I have twin boys, Gil and Peter) playing computer or video games, candy wrappers strewn across the floor, while still in their pajamas at two in the afternoon. Other examples: my older kids leaving me the car with no gas, or our kitchen looking like it needs federal emergency funding.
Doomsday Scenarios
Some wild neurons in the deep recesses of my brain fire “Danger! Danger!” and start a cascade of doomsday scenarios which result in imagining all kinds of disastrous futures: my children grow up to be social lepers, nincompoops living dependently at home well into their 40’s, unable to be responsible, hold a job, pay bills or do their own laundry, prepare their own meals. I imagine media-saturated, consumer-driven, ecologically-disastrous half-citizens who have no interest in engaging the world or moving their bodies out of bed, living like puppets in the constant distraction of text messages, driven solely by the lust for the next Big Entertainment Thing. This isn’t the picture of children I want to devote my life to raising. I feel angry and betrayed. By whom, or what though, is not quite so clear.
That I leap from the simple experience of seeing my children playing the Wii, or spying dishes in the sink, to “this means I am a complete failure as a parent in raising socially responsible, spiritually and emotionally astute adults” is clearly a gross distortion. Even though, in my more mature judgment, I might choose to find an opportunity to set better boundaries about use and timing of video games and family cars, Wii baseball in pajamas in any moment is clearly not immediate danger requiring either sudden rescue or hand-to-hand combat. There is no real evidence that their life is in peril, nor that my parenting, as a result of this short-term adrenaline-fueled distortion, has been a total failure. In a Toxic Brain state I cascade from small pieces of self-defined imperfection to the children’s ultimate demise. I cannot see them or myself compassionately as works in progress or in any way see the much deeper truth of their nascent beauty. I compare them to mental pictures of what I wanted my children to be like, the deal perhaps I thought I got into when I signed on. Why aren’t they dressed? Cleaning their rooms? Learning woodworking? Practicing viola? Reading the New York Times or playing outside?! Things that would make me feel like I really am a GOOD parent (since I’m clearly not feeling like too much of one).
Doing Psychic Harm
This sudden hijacking, as Mark likes to call it, is the state in which I am most likely to do psychic harm to my children. This is the state where I speak in frustration, judgment, anger. I shout, stomp, slam and humiliate, or conversely, I sink into the passivity of depression, or both. My Toxic Parent Brain permeates their world and becomes a natural disaster, one that they are hyper-vigilant to avoid or resist. For many of us, the fear of being stuck in Failure Projection Mode is the most painful part of parenting. Our heart knows how painful this is for them even as we often lack the resources in the moment to effectively inhibit it.
Examining the Causes
After a recent three day, post-holiday episode in this state, I took the opportunity to witness and observe some of the anatomy of this upset. Here are some of the things that I noticed about myself and others:
1. In almost all cases TPB occurs much more often when I am in a state of relative self-neglect and/or feeling low in confidence.
2. It occurs more often when I have not moved my body, expressed my emotions, or listened to or spoken personal truths to myself for an extended period of time.
3. It is often true that my children are trespassing on some sacred, but unconscious images I have of children I had hoped that I would raise. This ideal seems most likely to have its origins in some wound in my own soul, my own heart. It may also be a vestige of an unconscious parent judgment I carry from my own childhood, or perhaps some quality in myself that I unconsciously expect them to replicate (Gee, I was already a great seamstress at their age, why aren’t they?).
4. It occurs when I am feeling isolated or alone in the experience of parenting.
5. It also often occurs around experiences in larger community, such as extended family, school meetings or social gatherings when children are being judged or compared, either obviously or covertly, by a group (Awards Ceremonies are but one egregious example).
6. It occurs when I’m confronted with over-idealized images of family life in media or culture (for example, do you believe that when hunting for a photo for this column I could not find even one picture of families who were not completely happy like this?).
7. It often occurs when I am either obviously or covertly being criticized as a parent, for example by a teacher or other adult, or I’m asked to produce an outcome that is not within my control.
These last three experiences are remarkably common in our culture, and part of what I have previously written about.
What I can share, as part of my own experience as a parent and a parent counselor, is that this is a very common experience, one that our intellects alone cannot fully address. We can’t “think” our way out of the Toxic Parent Brain state. It takes great care and awareness of my own body, emotions and spiritual life. Perhaps it also really does take a village.
I hope to write more about some of the things that help me recognize and work with this painful condition in a future column. Until then I am offering you help with Number 4: You are not alone. Oh, and the other thing 21 years of parenting has finally taught me: your children will invariably also surprise you.
(here via Mama-Om)
Yes. Sometimes I can trace these episodes to specific events in childhood (http://travelshifts.blogspot.com/2009/02/stay-on-right-track.html); other times it becomes difficult to distinguish the triggers — and much can be traced to a feeling of not meeting my ideals and those of others (husband, in-laws, especially). Thanks for your honesty.
Wow. This rang so true it scared me. When I’m in a good mood, I can see that my kids are good, kind, fun people who are really OKAY. But when I’m not, I go into a downward spiral: they don’t “do” anything, they’re content to be lazy, other kids their age are outstanding, they don’t care about succeeding, it’s all my fault because I’m a lazy parent, I should have done more, I should be doing more, I should be stricter (or sometimes LESS strict), I should care more, I should care less, it’s all my fault but I’m so angry at THEM . . .
And so on.
I feel lucky that I have warm, supportive friends who are willing to share their own moments like these so I feel less alone. But I’d love to figure out how not to go down that spiral . . . Thanks for putting it all into words.
Very insightful column Jeanne. I experienced TPB the other day too. And your anatomy rings very true. As I read, I began thinking of what triggered my hijacked state. It had to do with my painful single parent memories of raising a teenage daughter, the isolation, depression, drugs, anger, and fear that she would ultimately not become a successful adult (and it would be my fault). Fast forward to today. She is 22 years old. In college, a 3.9 GPA in biology, working at Applebee’s, with a boyfriend, likes snowboarding and rave parties in LA, sans XTC after a frightful scare, thank you. I recalled reading recently about a concept called The Good Enough Parent, or was it The Good Enough Family? I remembered that as I glimpsed the hijacked state, then to step away and realize that although our children may not be perfect, and I am certainly not, there are several elements that are “good enough”. Elements that are intact, functioning, and are ingredients for success. She still does things that I get worried and upset about, but the overall prognosis is excellent. Sometimes the perspective of time is a beautiful gift. Thank you for this opportunity to express myself.
This article should go to pto’s around the country
Thanks Jeanne.
Love to hear more of how you evolved and are evolving out of this condition.
William
Thank you so much for naming this and bringing this to light. I have 3 teenaged boys and what you describe occurs on a regular basis. I appreciate your framework to be better able to notice, recognize, understand and change my experience
Best,
Marla
Jeanne,
Thanks for being so real. I identify with this struggle myself. I have been a mom for 25 years, and am still in the throes of raising 2 teens and an 8 year old. I have days like this regulary, questiong my parenting ability and asking “what kind of person will they turn out to be?”
Although, my 3 older children (now grown) have shown me how resilient they were to my less than perfect attempts at motherhood. Each is employed, educated beyond highschool, 2 are married and two own their own businesses.We need desperately to believe in our love for our children as a bigger force than we realize, and our children’s tenacity to navigate the sometimes murky waters of growing up.
Keep writing!
jody
Ahhh – fantastic! I had a range of responses to your wonderful article – I laughed, I felt sad, I felt heard & listened to – just great. Your list of causes was extremely useful, thank you.
I have been a parent for 15 years (3 kids) and I definitely battle with TPB on a regular basis – altho it is reducing, for which I am extremely grateful.
You are spot on with highlighting self-care and self-awareness as a major key to it, as well as that elusive village… so hard to create if its not just ‘there’. I feel the grief of that lack in my life regularly, and dream of my next incarnation in an extended family culture!
Many thanks – I look forward to reading more from you!
Warmly
Hilary in NZ
Wow. I can’t begin to describe the sense of Aha! and Ah! that washed over me as I read this. In my 11 years as a parent (8 of them a parent to two boys), I have regularly experienced TPB. You are spot on in your description of how it feels and how it arises. I have shared it with close friends and understand that I’m not alone, but to hear it described so insightfully adds one more small layer to the continuing self-awareness that helps us feel our way through these eruptions.
I’m also interested because of my role as an educator (working with parents-to-be and parents of young children). I often wonder how I can best help them anticipate and even avert TPB. I always encourage self-care and try to help them let go of impossible ideals, shoulds, and the inevitable guilt. But you’re right: it takes a village, continued and continuing support from a loving and forgiving community, to get through being a parent.
Thank you for these insights!