Is This Trauma?

I wrote these thoughts as new thoughts emerged over the week. I've now gone through it and am ready to click "publish."

The day of the incident:
I cried at lunch.
I cried on my way home.
I cried to my husband.
I played dodgeball - ran around like a nut, threw with all my might like a wimp, saw stars at one point, had a hissy fit on the floor of the gym, yelled, screamed, played my heart out, and slept deeply when I hit the pillow.

"Day after" morning:
Woke with thoughts of the incident.
Cried in the shower.
Figured I should talk, so shared it with Hubby.
Cried a bit more through the morning.
Thoughts throughout the day, trying to figure it out:

I used to be prepared to handle students when they acted out in this fashion. I used to say, "You can't show fear. You have to show them who's in control." I had a first grader who would bite and kick. When I was starting out teaching in my 20s, I was prepared as to how to handle it. Now that I'm not a "special ed." teacher anymore (Aren't I, though?), I'm not trained in the new approaches. I'm more vulnerable. I wanted to protect the other teacher in the room. I didn't know how. I acted as if I was not scared. I had to act that way. I was scared. This realization came today. For some reason, I wanted others to know what I'd witnessed. I wanted them to know the power and the strength I witnessed. I wanted others to know what some teachers go through. Some - on a daily basis even.

More thoughts on this day:

I have been protected for a long time. I'm spoiled. I've got a very comfortable life. Am I now a total wuss because I haven't been exposed to violence or aggression? If I am exposed to it more often, will that make me a hard-ass? Will it make my heart harder? I signed up for this - when I was 22 years old. My role changed in 2002 when I was 29 and started working in "regular ed." I'm not cut out for a profession that includes violence or aggression. I've known that from the start. I'm worried that when I go back to school I will SHOW my fear. I will act like I'm not scared, no less. I'll hold it together. Other teachers see behaviors like this on a daily basis. Many are "used to" it. I can do this, too. I could. I have in the past. Now - I don't want to.

I figured out this must be what people call "trauma."

Second "day after" morning:
Woke with thoughts of it again. I decided I needed to write. Sat down to write this after I cried in the shower.
Cried writing this.
Thoughts this morning:

Thought of Mom coming over (we're going Christmas shopping). Thought of how I'll break down again when I hug her hello. Thought of my coworkers that support one another. Thought of how I don't want to "dump" this on them - for various reasons - one being that they're empathetic. Glad the one that was with me will not be in school Monday. She's had so much to deal with this school year already. Thought of talking with one of our social workers, yet she, too, has so much on her plate and has had a difficult start to the school year. 

Who do I turn to? I tell people they need to ask for help. My husband is helping. He's letting me cry and letting me talk it all out. I felt that writing this may help me process my thoughts more. As of 9am, my head says people will say, "You can't let it get to you like this." My thoughts back to myself say, "I can. I WON'T, though. I don't want to wake up like this each morning."

Third "day after" morning:
Today I look at this title and I cringe. It looks so dramatic! I think I must doing better.
I only cried twice today - once when the team kept talking about it, and again when I was coming home and "Joy to the World" came on the radio. I realized that my alone times conjure up visions of the incident. I need to stay occupied with other thoughts. My coworkers checked up on me. I felt supported and strong. I was ready to press the button and ask for the C-Team if needed. The first time I cried, I was on high alert already because we had two substitute teachers that would be working with this student. I was worried. I'd said, "Good morning" to the student and received no response. So I repeated myself quieter then turned and walked away. I was more frustrated at this point than scared. I had hoped this child would say something along the lines of "sorry." During class, I was followed around by the student, due the student not having access to technology. I consider this the "sorry" I was looking for.

Now, in the evening, I am relaxed. I'm not devoting tons of my energy to the situation. I'm getting distracted. Even as I told myself, "Live in the moment. What is going on in THIS moment NOW?" I would devote my thinking to it. Not right now. I'm going to listen to my book while I get some Christmas wrapping finished.

Fourth "day after" morning:
I turned to prayer today. I prayed for the student, for the teachers that work at our school, and for the parents. I wondered what home is like. I wondered what they've seen and how they've reacted and recovered. Praying for other people - instead of thinking of me - helped.

Fifth "day after" morning:
I worked one-on-one with this student at the end of class, and all was good. We were both calm and working on the plan for class while other students worked independently. I was at ease.

Sixth "day after" morning:
As the student was becoming agitated today, my co-teacher told me, "Your whole affect just changed." I was feeling the need to take every student out of the room quietly, even though I know this one student has not had a history of hurting anyone. My blood was rushing a bit, so I removed myself from one part of the room and sat down to work with other students, talking about their projects.

Eighth "day after" morning:
Our friend died of pancreatic cancer yesterday while we had our last day of school for 2019. It was expected, yet of course it's still terribly sad. So I'm back to crying again at the drop of a hat. A sad song, a happy song, a Christmas song... all set me off, especially when I'm alone. It has nothing to do with the incident. This time I was thinking of our friend's husband.

What I've learned:
I witnessed an event that was traumatic to me. It's been awhile since this has happened, and I didn't know how to deal with it.
I've learned that witnessing something traumatic takes a toll on a person's mental strength.
I've learned to find someone and talk to that person about it.
I've learned (again) writing helps me process my thoughts.
I've learned to be around other people.
I've learned to stay busy.
I've learned that it takes time.
I've learned that when thoughts of the incident come to mind, I need to notice it and then switch my thinking to something else. It needs to be a conscious act. It's not always easy, but it IS doable.

I still have so much of this life to try to figure out. It's such a puzzle - home, work, children, adults, relationships... One day at a time. One piece at a time. It's living. I'm so grateful for the support of friends, family, and coworkers.