I hit rock bottom with my kids last week. It has been almost eight years since we adopted them at eight years, five years and sixteen months, and I just couldn’t do it anymore. Counselors sit in nice comfy offices asking me if I understand Reactive Attachment Disorder, and I answer back that yes, I do, but it doesn’t help much when I am living it every interaction, every day. The sheer exhaustion of getting push-back on what they wear, what they eat, whether they do chores, how they treat each other, homework (!!!!), t.v., vitamins, etc. It just never stops. And this on top of the medical and psychological conditions they have.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was my nine-year-old taking a bath before school when we were running late, and I told him he only had time for a quick shower. I was already upset with him about that, and when I turned my back, he dumped his smoothie down the sink. That packed-with-nutrition smoothie that is rather expensive to make and physically demanding getting that raw honey out of the jar, that I feel so good about giving my kids because I know it’s healthy. And the thing is, he didn’t really care that about getting in trouble. He cared that it was inconvenient, but not that he had done anything wrong. “No remorse,” was how his teacher described his behavior at school when he was taken to the principal’s office. Until later when he realized it was going to cost him recess. Then, remorse of a different color.
I went to parent-teacher conferences last week with my sophomore, and I heard one teacher tell the parent in front of me (about her daughter), “I wish I had thirty more just like her.” Instead, I hear, “He’s just not doing the work, when he turns it in, he hasn’t finished, he just sits there in class, he doesn’t seem to want to make much effort.” So together with Gavin and the teachers, we made a list of all the missing assignment he had to complete last weekend. My favorite part was when it was time for him to do his English paper, he said he didn’t know what to do, hadn’t been listening that day in class, didn’t have any friends in class he could call for info, so Sorry, Mom, just can’t do the assignment. Yesterday he took page two of his biology assignment and shredded it because he didn’t want to do it.
And just to round it all out, back to my nine-year-old, he’s telling me that he hears voices, has heard them all along, but didn’t want to worry me. He says that’s why he’s so loud all the time because he’s trying to drown the voices out. I don’t even know if it’s true and neither does the psychiatrist, who admits nevertheless that “it’s concerning.”
I’m actually jealous of people who have events they have to get over, like the loss of a loved one or a foreclosure. This never ends and there’s no end in sight, and somehow, the older the kids get, the harder it gets.
I accidentally found a solution for myself today when I was trying to help a friend. She asked me how I was doing (dangerous question) and I had a melt-down. She and another friend spent the next hour letting me cry it out and sharing some of their survival struggles with me so I would feel less alone.
Nothing has changed, but just getting it out to people who care seems to have lightened my load. Usually I keep that stuff in, feel like I should handle my problems myself, but today, I couldn’t and it turned out to be a good thing. When you’re in Survival Mode, sometimes not having the energy to put on a good front can be a blessing in disguise. Thanks to two good friends, I think I’ll survive another week at least.
Donna …. I doubt it was coincidence that I was browsing my home page which has a feed from adoptionblogs … and I saw your post. I am really not doing much of anything related to RAD these days as I have passed the torch to Julie Beem, who is now doing a fabulous job of running the Attachment & Trauma Network (ATN). But I am the person who wrote the first two year of this blog … and your post absolutely jumped out at me. My two older kids have major attachment issues, and they were nearly the death of me. I can’t imagine having three. I don’t have any stellar words of wisdom, other than HANG IN THERE and LEAN ON THOSE AWESOME FRIENDS and by the way, are you getting support from ATN too? I know that writing this blog is a lifeline for many folks, because they don’t feel so alone and isolated in their own private hell. And I truly believe that sharing the REAL story … ie not sugarcoating how hard it is and not living in denial … is one of the best gifts you can give to those reading your story. I have a third adoptee, and unlike my older two, she has taken advantage of all the resources we have offered and she has done some seriously hard work and she is truly a gift in our lives … and we knew what to do and what to offer because of what we learned on the two who chose not to work on their lives. All you can do is offer; they have to take you up on your offer.
This has been a pretty rambling comment but mostly I just wanted you to know I HEAR you and I UNDERSTAND and one day, this too shall pass … (Although kids with serious issues DO tend to be “the gift that keeps on giving …”!) Keep writing!! And take care of yourself!!!
I wasn’t even aware of ATN so I will check it out, thanks. And thanks for writing and for the support. I appreciate it more than I can say, wasn’t expecting any comments to my post, but I feel a ton lighter knowing it’s not just me.
Donna…I followed Nancy’s blog for two years and learned a great deal about RAD and the complete emotional exhaustion that goes along with parenting a RAD kid. For a long time I wanted a solution to my “problem”. I felt that I was not loving her enough, not giving her what she needed to heal and feeling guilty that I spent day after day dreading getting out of bed, knowing that I would be doing battle with her over absolutely everything. Of course, we did the attachment therapy route. We would make some small gains and then fall backward. Our whole household was in turmoil. It took me a long time to realize that the ball was in her court. I kept thinking that I could make it better without cooperation from her. I finally came to the realization that she needed to choose for herself what direction her life would take. We gave her all of the options of choosing a good, productive life. She chose to reject us and our options and live a life of instability, instant gratification and dishonesty. It broke my heart. I now realize that, in spite of turning myself (and my family) inside out for years, she was going to do what she wanted to do. I love her, but I had to get out of her way before she destroyed our family. Thank goodness we chose to adopt again and have been blessed with a beautiful soul who can attach and can love. I could never go back to those years of pain. You will survive and more on; but in the meantime, take care of yourself the best way you can and know that you are doing the very best for your children.
Just wanted to tell you that your candor is a blessing to me. We have two adopted kids who cleaned our clocks for 13 years. Now 19 and 18, one is a blessing and the other is a cipher–in the juvenile justice system. I spent years feeling crazy, different, and stressed. Your blog helps me feel less alone. I will be praying for you.
Thank you so much for commenting. It makes me feel like I’m not such a bad parent if other people are having similar struggles. You made my day!