Childhood Trauma and its Effects on Adults

Childhood trauma can have profound and lasting effects on individuals as they grow into adulthood. The experiences and events that occur during childhood shape our development and can significantly impact our emotional, psychological, and physical well-being later in life. In this article, we will explore the effects of childhood trauma on adults, the potential long-lasting consequences, and the…

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I know I've verbally expressed how fucked up it was that I involuntarily became a parent at 26

But have I really truly GRASPED how that fucking changed my life?

25-26 was such a pivotal year in my life, I went from one lifestyle to a wildly different one and then within a few months of that switch BAM, I had a 14yo who relied on me to be his rock through the most fucked up shit.

I wouldn't change that, the thought of him going through adolescence without a safe adult and possessing my commitment to putting children first... but man that is not what I thought I'd be doing at the end of my 20s. This kid who is now a young adult himself has grown in so many positive ways and it is a absolute honour I had any part of that.

As I process him leaving I remember so many conversations and outings from over the years. The tears, the dissociation, the venting, the fearful questions, the contemplation of new perspectives, the reality checks, the debates, the curiosity, the proof that things can get better. Sitting in parks, in my living room, in my car, in Tim Hortons. Picking him up from random places all over town to take him back to my house or his house to make sure he was safe. All the trips to the hospital. Stocking him up on first aid supplies, on groceries, on personal hygiene supplies. The long texts of him telling me everything that was happening and validating his feelings, helping him pick coping strategies, and providing encouragement and love.

I remember the specific day he told me his friend was kicking him out and he wasn't sure what to do, wasn't sure he could afford to rent a room and wasn't sure if he wanted to live in the kind of place he'd be able to barely afford. I remember sitting on the porch with my roommate of our 2 bedroom shoebox of an apartment in a mid-level sketchy part of downtown and telling her he didn't have anywhere to go and I was scared he'd end up in a trap house. I remember being on the left and she was on the right and we were smoking and she said, I know you want him to move in with us. I know you love him so much and I absolutely can't say no to you offering this vulnerable kid a safe place to live. Your heart is too kind and loving to not take him in. I said, it would be okay if he moved in? She said, I know it would kill you inside if you couldn't make sure he is safe.

I remember my fear the first night as it set in. I remember him barely leaving my side for months. We made the living room my bedroom slash home office and he took my old room. He would sit in my room while I worked and we spent hours every day talking. It was endless therapy. I remember a couple months in that he was having a hard time adjusting, that he had never been so undisturbed before... that he had recently started hanging out in his room with no pants on because it finally felt real that no one was going to barge into his room, drunk. He said that feeling of security was so new to him. A month later he complained that the apartment was *too* quiet, and I explained his nervous system just needed time to learn constant hyervigillance wasn't necessary anymore.

Before he agreed to move in he asked what the rules would be. I only had a few, and one was that he had to communicate. There would be no passive aggression, no burying issues until they explode, no building resentments. He wrote back that he agreed to that, that it's hard for him to assert himself but he would like to get better at it and so that works.

I remember the first time he said to me, "can I tell you something that upset me?" I said of course, you can tell me anything. He told me he felt angry that I seemed to criticize his friend a lot and that I only ever said negative things about her. He was so visibly uncomfortable and hesitant. I tried to stifle a smile. He stumbled over his words, not knowing how to express himself and scared that I would get mad. I looked him in the eye and said, "thank you for sharing that with me. I didn't realize I was saying so many negative things and I am sorry. I will be more careful and thoughtful about what I say now that I know it makes you feel so badly."

It makes me chuckle to think about our arguments the past year. God damn he is expressive, assertive, confident. He is so bold and honest when he is hurt, unhappy, or annoyed. He is such an amazing self advocate now. I remain committed too responding to his words with calmness, validation, and encouragement. I've only lost my temper a few times and I ALWAYS make sure to apologize. He has lost his temper too and he apologizes. I've seen him apply these skills to conflicts with friends, I've seen him become ANAZING at setting boundaries and then ending friendships when his boundaries aren't respected and I have sat with him through the sadness and uncertainty and have comforted him through these losses while reaffirming his good choices. I have witnessed his arguments with his friends and I have seen him take what he learned from testing the waters with me and apply it to other people. I have witnessed his strength reach whole new levels. I've seen him develop self worth and resolve. I've seen him draw lines and with encouragement, hold people accountable.

Our old roommate visited a few weeks ago and she hadn't seen him in a year since we moved out. She was blown away by what a confident, social, open young man he is. A total change from the shy and insecure young teen who moved in with us. She praised me for taking such good care of him. I don't think there was any option not to. It was draining, but all those hours spent talking through his pain were pivotal for his development. It's amazing to compare what we would talk about in my car at the look out versus what we talk about now. It's amazing that I had an impact on this teen. That as much as sometimes I was tired or drunk, I knew that his pain was more important. I'd work 9-5 then spend 5-10 with him before he moved in. I'd be partying at his mom's house and he would text me from his room asking to go for a walk and I'd be like fuck, I am drunk, all my friends are here and I don't want to leave. But I would. I'd write back yes and we'd head to the park. I would let him cry til the tears ran out. I would let him decide when to head home because I never wanted him to feel like partying was more important to me than him.

I promised him when he moved in I would never kick him out. I told him conflicts will happen, sure, but we will deal with them. This is a kid who has never had a planned move. At least a dozen times he was made to leave with no preparation. I promised to be there for him through thick and thin.

This year has been so trying. He has debated moving out. I reassured him we can negotiate anything and everything because he is welcome to stay as long as he wants. This is his first time *choosing* to leave. This is the first time he's been able to plan it, feel in control. We have been through so much together. We have worked so hard together. This is a peaceful, positive transition. I am happy he feels ready to go out on his own. I am happy he had a few years of safety to calm down and get a better grip on his mental health. I am happy to have fulfilled my commitment to him. His mom didn't think I would. She told me he breaks down placements in mere months, without fail. I told her it'll be different with me. And it has been. He is leaving knowing he can trust me. He is leaving a much more stable person than the 15yo his mom kicked out. I remember his fear. I remember when she cut off his cell phone bc he wouldn't talk to her. I remember promising him, freshly 16, that he didn't need to be an adult yet. The I would help him ease in, he has years ahead to become an adult when he is ready, piece by piece.

I dont think many people have kept their promises to him. It makes me cry to know how much I mean to him. I never chose to be his step parent. But I couldn't let him keep suffering alone and neglected and in so much harms way. He was so much like me as a teen. I would have given anything to have an adult give a shit about me back then. Idk how all these other people could see him struggling and NOT be there for him. So when his mom granted me parental authority and I was now I'm charge of him, cuz she was done, the right thing to do was step up and do it.

It's fucking wild to think about him then vs now. I can't undo the severe trauma and neglect of his early years. But I did the best I could to change his teen years and I hope it was enough to help him have a better future. I love him so much. The last several years have been fucking wild man.

*sleeps with a golf club by my bed for sexy, sexy hyervigilant reasons*

have any of u ever heard of paranoia or anxiety that takes the form of feeling like theres someone behind your back? (i dont have hallucinations or delusions btw) When i get paniced about things sometimes I have this horrible feeling like someone is right behind me and I feel mentally unable to turn around to look. I have never heard of it in anyone else and if I look it up it just comes up with scary stories and things that NTs expirience sometimes but its not like those things so idk

Hey anon,

I know I personally experience that feeling often due to hypervigilance from PTSD. I feel often like there is someone looking over my shoulder or going to jump out from behind a corner and scare me. This gets worse for me on days when my anxiety is more intense overall. Usually strategies like deep breathing and grounding techniques reduce my anxiety overall which can take the edge off that hyervigilance symptom. I hope knowing that this happens to me can help you feel more understood in your experiences. Of course, if this is something that is significantly impacting your life, I urge you to seek support from a MH professional. And also, just because this is an extension of my PTSD, it does not mean that it has to be the same cause for you as well. Take care,Ari