I posted my first second-anniversary list, on Advocacy,
about two weeks ago. Immediately following that post, I had a startlingly
depressing IEP meeting, hence, the delay in this second list – and this disclaimer:
none of us knows what to do all the time! Sometimes life is hard, and there are
major and minor disastrophes, however hard we try.
It was “funny” to have this second second-anniversary post
in the back of my mind as I endured one of the most attachment-disordered
weekends we have had in recent memory.
The drama was epic, with violent and threatening tantrums starting
Friday afternoon - and the consequences (effective or not) were many. Still, I
stand by my lists – I just may need to adhere to them with more vim and acumen
myself!
This time last year, I wrote about attachment disorders in
general and listed some of the things I wished I’d known about them before embarking on some painful and discouraging times
with very little knowledge of how to help my child. I had moments of
desperation, regret and despair that I would not wish on anyone. If you are
looking for general definitions and tips, or are new to attachment disorders,
here is the link to that post:
http://fullspectrummama.blogspot.com/2013/01/first-anniversary-lists-ii-attachment.html.
This year, I decided to write about our current state of
slightly more advanced (partly more healed…and partly more “subtle,” as
fine-tuned by Herself, La Z) mild to moderate* attachment disordered-ness.
Thoughts on
“Advanced”Attachment Disorders
- Therapeutic Parenting helps.
Thanks to what we’ve learned and
implemented about therapeutic parenting, Z’s tantrums are down to once a week
or less. They usually (usually – hahahaaaaaa) occur on Sundays, when we have
spent what feels to G and me like a relaxing weekend. While G and I both
desperately need such extended sensory/social breaks, they entail much less
stimulation/world domination than Z, even on a purely kinesthetic level, craves
and needs. Either “side” usually has to compromise on a given day, but on slow
weekends tantrums are likely…Less likely,
however, than they were during the Pre-Therapeutic Parenting Era!
- The Sooner the Better.
I know: they say this with ALL interventions…And sometimes
you just don’t know what is going on. (For example, G wasn’t diagnosed with autism until second
grade.) But if you do know that your
child has an attachment disorder, and are dilly-dallying…Don’t. I know single
moms who are raising teenagers with attachment disorders -- big, male teenagers
– and it’s a lot harder to tackle in that dynamic than it is for me with Ms.
Puny Stuff over here.
- Cycles/Patterns.
It’s so important to bear cycles
and patterns in mind when things seem bleak: change will come, for better or
worse (hopefully the former!). Z,
as I have explored at length elsewhere on this blog, has certain times of year
(spring in particular) and certain types of events (holidays) that seem to
trigger her most disordered behavior. Other times, we may have positively
peaceful stretches; these are what we look forward to – if we can remember to
do so – when times are rough.
- Presumed Omniscience.
Presumed omniscience seems to be a
hallmark of many people with attachment disorders, including Z. I’ve recently
had to disavow her of the habit of saying “I was thinking that,” or,
alternatively, “I was just about to say that,” every few minutes. She tells her
friends she has done/seen [fill-in-the-blank] “about a thousand times.” Also,
she openly pities those pathetic and inferior individuals – and this is not
limited to fellow children -- who have not done/seen/known [fill-in-the-blank].
“I’ll be the mom” is a phrase that
is in common usage chez the Full Spectrum, especially when Z (8) mimics my
instructions to G (12) regarding his “teenager practice” activities (you know,
eye-rolling, grunted replies to all questions, slouching at all times…). As one
might imagine, G does not take kindly to his bossy peanut of a sister’s
reprimands.
Omniscience also encompasses the
alleged inability to make (admit) mistakes. So when Z and I are working
together on learning a new skill, say…sewing, mistakes are not made in the
usual sense. Rather, the thread often “needs help” – or the fabric “has a
problem.”
This omniscience may represent
efforts to make sense of a world that feels unstable. It’s something we, as
individuals with attachment disorders (or in interactions with those who have
an attachment disorder), or as parents of children with attachment disorders,
should consider.
- Control.
Children and adults with AD may
feel the need to control their environments because on a very basic level they
feel unsafe. Although the connection may not always be evident, that fear
impels a state of constant inner vigilance and is expressed in controlling
behaviors.
If we don’t have any potential
human servants non-family people at the house, much of the time Z spends at
home is spent corralling one or both of our cats. She will – for long stretches
of time - hold one cat very close and march him or her around the house,
ignoring any wiggling or desire to escape, and “showing” him or her the views
out of our windows and so on. Alternatively, she will bring both cats into a
small, enclosed space and “play” with them.
We have really nice cats.
Adults need to set impeccable
boundaries so that, on the one hand, a child with these challenges may feel
more safe and, on the other, the child (and their pet{s}) really is safe. With attachment-disordered adult relationships,
this may be more tricky. In my experience, though, the principles of boundaries
and consistency will hold across quite a Full Spectrum and so it certainly
cannot hurt to try this sort of healing work.
Here is a really fascinating
example of boundary setting: last night, I politely asked Z to put away the
deck of cards with which she was playing. She continued to spread out the
cards. I reminded her of my request and she explained that she “wanted to show
[me] the cards.” I insisted that she do as I had asked. Therapeutic parenting?
Done! For that moment at least…
As potentially boring, relentless
and annoying as such boundaries may feel in their enactment – and from day to
day it can feel endless -- these baby steps help heal that frightened impulse
toward constant control.
- Subversion.
The first thing I learned about
therapeutic parenting was that everything I was doing as a progressive, choice-
and respect-offering parent was wrong. To put it in less-loaded language, it
was not working. My child needed me to
set strong boundaries and make most choices on her behalf in order to feel safe
and learn to trust. Bit by bit I got this down. But Shawty is SMART. She turned
it around on me!
Ergo:
Z: “Can I go in
[G]’s room?”
Mama: “Sure.”
Z: “Can I take
three steps in the hallway?”
Mama: “Z, come
on.”
Pause.
Z: “Mama!…Mama!
Can I walk through his door?”
Or--
Mama, shouting (nicely) upstairs
to bathroom while doing 17 other things: “[Z], please wash your hair now!”
Z: “Okay.”
One minute later,
Z again: “Mama?”
Mama makes way back to bottom of
stairs from doing 19 things: “Yes?”
Z: “Should I now rinse my hair?”
I think you can see where I am going with this.
[Insert informative “Answer Section”
with instructions on how to handle this development.]
- Refusal
to Ask.
Does Z need me to charge one of
her contraptions? Does another toy need batteries? Does she know how to sew a
complicated project without ever having been taught? Is there something important
that she wishes or requires? I won’t know unless I ask her. Because she Will.
Not. Ask. For. Anything (Help-Related). See: Control. See: Presumed
Omniscience…
That being said…is this an
“Attachment Disorder” thing? Or is it…
- Temperament
Z is a strong personality in a
family of strong personalities. It’s hard to imagine she would have been the
shy, retiring type under any circumstances. Some of Z’s less-pro-social
behaviors are personality-derived, some are rooted in her attachment disorder.
I have to try to strike that elusive balance between accepting Z as she is –
obviously not a unique issue in any relationship -- and helping her to heal
those aspects of her being that are affected by her attachment disorder.
Whereas with G, who has aspergers syndrome, I use general health-promoting
practices and promote radical acceptance of neurodiversity, I do actively want to “cure” Z of her attachment disorder,
insofar as that is possible. As we grow together, I hope all the different
parts of Z’s life - personality,
environment, history, dreams… -- will come together in increasingly healthy
ways.
The main themes here can be summed up in a two concepts:
TRUST – and trust promoting
actions, and
BOUNDARIES – and setting them
consistently.
This latter should, ideally, set a foundation for the
former. NB: this process may unfold in a remarkably extended and painstaking
fashion! I hope someday Z, as her trust in the world grows, will be able to
look upon such things as letting go a bit, or needing help, or not knowing
something as normal human activities –
both in herself and in others.
Meantime, do you know
everything? Do you never need to ask for information or help? Do you never make
mistakes? Are you in command and
control at all times? Do you not need new batteries? Just in case the answer to
any of these is “no,” I will leave you, dear reader, with these words, uttered
by Z when I lost a mean game of Apples to Apples: “Sorry you’re
kind of a loser.”
Coming Soon: Anniversary List III: Choosing Your Battles…
Love,
Full Spectrum Mama
* I have written elsewhere on the differences between severe
and mild attachment disorders, and there is much available on this subject
online. Z has what is known as a “mild to moderate” attachment disorder.
Very interesting post.
ReplyDeleteI adopted a Russian orphan 16 years ago. (She was 25 mos old.) She will not ask for anything but is getting (a little) better. She's never been diagnosed with RAD or autism although Northwestern University tested her in the second grade and said she had many similarities to kids on the high-functioning autism spectrum, but she was not autistic--just had a receptive and expressive language disorder.
Because we live in such a small community there was no help here. They put her in speech therapy. Sheesh, what a joke, but hey, they wanted to feel like they were helping. I home-schooled her in 5th and 6th grade hoping to gain more progress on communication skills and trusting me.
When I started researching RAD for a YA novel I was writing I found Daniel Hughes who put me in touch with a therapist an hour away from me. I interviewed her for my book but ended up bringing my dau to her too. In the end, I felt like all we could do was accept her for the way she is and love her for who she is, but we can't change her.
I still worry about her functioning in the working world, but so far she's trying. (She works at a pet store and has to greet customers and check them out. She's introverted and doesn't speak very loud so this is giving her practice.)
I'm so glad to have "met" you here. I'm going to send you an ecopy of my book since you "get" the RAD thing. Thanks for leaving your email here.
Michelle
Dear Michelle,
DeleteTank you so much for your thoughtful comment.
Please feel free to put a link to your book here.
Sounds like you have worked so hard to both get tyour daughter what she needs and to love and accept her as she is. what else can we do? Beautiful.
We were lucky with Z in that we found, through other parents with children who had been adopted, in our rural but more diverse community, a therapist specializing in RAD when Z was 5 or so.
Good luck with your family and your book.
Please do keep in touch.
Love,
FSM