Dear Reactive Attachment Disorder,
You are not my favorite person right now. In fact, you’re a bully and I’m still waiting for you to move out of my house. You’ve bound my girl for ten years, already. Isn’t that enough?
Yes, you kept her alive for a short season. Yes, you helped her cope when life bounced her from home to home those first years. I get it. But ever since then, you’ve been a loud, rude, misery-inducing squatter who’s kept my child’s heart in a vise.
All she wanted today at school was to eat her lunch in peace. But you assaulted her mind, convinced her to sneak and lie and steal–to create such chaos that nobody would see the broken heart, the fear in which you cage her.
You’ve lied to her all these years. Told her that she’s worthless, that there’s no hope and nobody she can trust, and that the only smart thing to do is to break hearts before they get close to her.
You’ve taken her best route to healing and made it her poison.
I hate you for that.
I hate that you fill her body with cuts and self-inflicted wounds. I hate that you’ve convinced her that the only reason to hug someone is to get something from them. I hate that, because of you, she is afraid of friends, of hope, of gifts, holidays, family and peace.
You are a bastard. A dark pit of anguish. A thief.
You’ve tried to rob my girl of love, and you’ve done an impressive job so far, I’ll admit. But may I introduce you to a concept? Your days are numbered. You think you’ve got her tucked away in your prison, but there is no way on God’s earth this mom will stand by and let you take her without a fight.
Yeah, you know me. I’m the one who spits in your eye when you try to make my kid despise me. The one who laughs it off and plays with her and keeps her just enough off-balance to kiss her mess of red hair and freckled nose. I’m the one who throws you off your game by telling her I love her IN the mess, not once it’s all tidied up.
You’re on your way out, you criminal, you abuser of the soul. Because all you have is fear to offer. The longer you spout empty lies and create moments my child feels damaged, the more bored and annoyed she will become. You taught her that, remember? To move on from things too soon so she’ll preempt others from taking those things from her?
Attachment Disorder, those strategies are going to backfire on you because you forgot something: MY GIRL IS A CHILD OF THE LIVING GOD. She belongs to the King of Heaven’s Armies.
Remember that quiet little moment when she prayed out loud in her room while she didn’t think anyone was listening–that moment when she invited Him in? That was your death null.
One day, whether here or on the other side of eternity, my daughter will stand up straight, look you in the eye, and hand-in-hand with her God, she’ll watch as you dissolve to ash.
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” – Revelation 21:5
I’ll be there that day, so very proud of her.
. . . ecstatic to see you go.
-Laurie
What would you say to your special needs child’s most difficult diagnosis or behavior?
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I heard your story last night (3/22) on KSBJ. As I drove home I went the long way. I just had to listen to what you had to say. I am not a parent of special needs, but an educator. There in a student at my school I work with that as you talked about your daughter and Reactive Attachment Disorder my heart dropped it sounds just like my “Veronica.” I her parents love her, they picked her out and choose her to be theirs. We all at the school love her and want to help as much as we possibly can. She has hurt me, I could care less about me getting hurt. It hurts me so much knowing I cannot help her. Thanks for sharing your story. It opened my eyes to start to understand this little girl more.
Ashley,
That means so much to me—that the words encouraged you in your role with families, and that you’d take the time to drive the long way and stop by here to say hello! It sounds like you’ve got a kiddo there who is much like my daughter was when she was younger. I admire your tenacity, commitment, and willingness to see past the behaviors and into the heart of her needs. We’ve had a few teachers like you through the years and outside of God’s strength, it’s been fuel that’s kept our family going.
Have you found any practical resources to help with the day-to-day? Not sure if you’ve heard of Karyn Purvis or Bryan Post, but they both provide helpful strategies that both support the child and keep us adults ok in the meantime.
May the Lord bless you tenfold for all you’re doing.
-Laurie
Laurie, what beautiful words shared here today. I have a son with autism and I will definitely check out your site and book. Thanks for sharing your link on #livefreeThursday.
Have a great weekend, Kim Stewart
So good, Laurie. Every mom who battles something bigger than themselves should read this today. So powerful and beautiful and encouraging.
Thank you Sooo much Laurie for writing what was exactly in my heart, oh what a long, long 15 years it’s been. We have watched her suffer, watched her hurt herself, watched her lonely, friendless, watched as this thief RAD steals her future. Yet we hope in GOD who made her , God who loves her , our great God who can heal her. I am not a great writer so I am soo blessed when others write what my heart wants to say. Thank you for sharing your gift and for blessing so many other families who love their children through the pain. Blessings, Nicotie
THANK YOU for this reminder!!! Oh, how I needed this today, when the trenches get tough with my niece. She has FAS, RAD, and severe intellectual disability.
And if I can be honest, sometimes, it’s Christians that irritate me the most. Yes, I am continually speaking the Word of God over her and agreeing with Him that she is freed and healed. But when I go to explain to people at church what we deal with daily, most people won’t even allow us to explain because we aren’t supposed to speak what we’re dealing with. We’re supposed to speak what God says. Okay, yeah, I get that. Just because I am believing God and standing in faith for her healing doesn’t mean that I don’t need help or support in everyday life. It doesn’t mean that you as a Christian don’t need to understand what you’re dealing with in my child while we’re waiting.
I hate what her past is doing in her life now. I hate watching her cry because she doesn’t understand what needs to happen for her to make friends, and she wants so badly to fit in. I hate every lie, every theft, every outburst. I hate the light switch emotions, the words she puts in my mouth that I never even said. Every phone call or email we get from the school. I hate that her mom chose to drink and abuse drugs while carrying her because no one told her mom about who God really is for her. Yet, I’m so thankful God placed her here with us and that she has a phenomenal team working with her at school and working with us.
That moment when you never knew you were missing someone in your family, but you realize God had her spot, right in the middle of your heart, before even one of her days came to be.
Rachael, yes. YES! This: “most people won’t even allow us to explain because we aren’t supposed to speak what we’re dealing with. We’re supposed to speak what God says. Okay, yeah, I get that. Just because I am believing God and standing in faith for her healing doesn’t mean that I don’t need help or support in everyday life.” That’s one of my deepest desires for the body of Christ: that we really *get* that it’s not a lack of faith to tell both sides of the truth, what we know in the spirit and what we know in this circumstance.
Laurie,
I’m praying the shed blood of Jesus over Angel. “No weapon formed against her shall prosper.”
Your family is loved!
Thank you, Cheryl. Your prayers mean so much to this stubborn, weary mama. Love you!
I would tell it to go to hell and thank it for stealing the joy from the best years of our lives and for reminding me every day how much I have failed and continue to fail her.
That is a powerful start! Go with it. Write the whole thing. Praying God would give you courage to let it out.
Thank you! My child with RAD turns 22 today. I remember well the very day that, with the help of a gifted therapist, I chose to love him and to fight for his life. He has his struggles but “love you mom” has replaced “I hate you, I hope you die.” A nervous hug has replaced “don’t touch me.” I’m beyond grateful to God.
Barbara, your comment gives me courage! Wow, 22 years… but that he hugs and speaks love, that’s got to fill your heart with triumph! Exhausted triumph… but still triumph 🙂