Reactive Attachment Disorder

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Reactive Attachment Disorder
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    Community Voices

    Does anyone know who does AUTISM assessments for ADULTS in western NC, or east TN, or southwest VA?

    <p>Does anyone know who does AUTISM assessments for ADULTS in western NC, or east TN, or southwest VA?</p>
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    Nowhere to go from here

    <p>Nowhere to go from here</p>
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    Trying to fix my relationship with my mom

    Since it’s Mother’s Day, I figured I’d talk a bit about having a narcissist/borderline mother and how foal rejection in mares, and most animals, is much more common in humans. Any thoughts? #ReactiveAttachmentDisorder

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    # Is there anyone in this group who was adopted at an early age and was diagnosed with RAD? I’m learning that this condition is a big part of my current diagnosis! I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts.

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    Simone Yemm

    What Emotional Dysregulation Is Like for Me With Bipolar Disorder

    I have bipolar II disorder. Apparently. Or not. Who can tell? It’s not like you take a blood test and all is revealed. But I exhibit many of the traits and sometimes a label is handy. And sometimes it’s not. But there’s one thing that can be said for sure: I am emotionally dysregulated. To be perfectly honest, I don’t like typing that — because there may be immediate judgments from some of you. But I want to explore exactly what emotional dysregulation is (from a non-expert point of view). Where it comes from (completely inexpert position). And what it means to me (a valid point of view in my opinion). “Emotional dysregulation is a term used in the mental health community that refers to emotional responses that are poorly modulated and do not lie within the accepted range of emotive response. Emotional dysregulation can be associated with an experience of early psychological trauma, brain injury, or chronic maltreatment (such as child abuse, child neglect, or institutional neglect/abuse), and associated disorders such as reactive attachment disorder. Emotional dysregulation may be present in people with psychiatric disorders such as attention-deficit/ hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), autism spectrum disorders, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder (BPD), complex post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD), and fetal alcohol spectrum disorders.” — Wikipedia So, that’s what Wikipedia thinks. What I think is this: My emotional dysregulation manifests as extreme sensitivity. I’ve written before about being a highly sensitive person and I adamantly believe that to be true. I feel people’s emotions acutely and I’m physically really sensitive. Flip flops cut holes between my toes. That’s how sensitive I am. When I feel excited and joyful, I basically pee my pants. It has happened, I confess this to be true. I laugh hysterically and my whole body gets overly excited, including my already excitable bladder. There’s nothing like pee in your pants to take away from the whole joyfulness of a situation. When I feel sad, I’m consumed by it. I can’t let the feeling go. I can’t stop thinking about the sad situation no matter how much I try to reason with myself. In recent years, I’ve learned to cry and tears just drip from my face, like a rusty tap that leaks without reprieve. For decades, those tears remained bottled up on the inside, unshed and poisoning me from the inside out. As undignified as it seems, they’re always better outside than in. There’s a certain catharsis and honesty in allowing emotions to simply exist. When I worry, it becomes catastrophic. Until such time as I write out my jumbled thoughts, worry escalates and manifests into a truly appalling cascade of completely ridiculous scenarios. I know how illogical irrational fears are. I can tell when worry is escalating into anxiety, then panic. I know it’s happening. I know a chipped toenail isn’t a brain tumor, but I have a very good imagination. And that imagination can create colorful canvases. I’m very good at it. I do have a coping mechanism, though. One that deescalates all the catastrophizing. I write. Sometimes I write here, although recently I’ve only written sporadically. But I also journal. And it’s in my journal I write how terrified I am everyone I know and love is going to die. And when I finish writing, the fear is much less. People tell me to just stop worrying. Honestly. That is useless advice for me. Worrying isn’t a choice. I don’t wake up in the morning and decide I’m going to worry about shit. Do you? Perhaps you have better emotional regulation, you probably do. And perhaps when you start to worry, you keep perspective, let that worry go and move on. But telling somebody not to worry is like telling a crying person not to cry, or a laughing person not to laugh. It invalidates the emotion. I’ve learned coping strategies through dialectical behavior therapy. It’s really good stuff, I highly recommend it. And my emotional regulation has vastly improved. But I’ll always be a sensitive person. I’ll always feel things — a lot. I may not show it or express it because stuffing emotions away is what I was taught. But stuffing them away doesn’t make them disappear, it just fills you up with emotional turmoil that expresses itself in some other way. Self-harm, disordered eating, addiction. There are lots of ways to ineffectively cope with unexpressed emotions, but that’s what comes to mind. I’ve often wondered why I’m emotionally dysregulated. Was I born that way? Did I learn it? I don’t know. It’s probably a combination. My childhood wasn’t physically abusive, but it was emotionally traumatic (I’ve written a whole book about it!). Sometimes I feel like I exhibit post-traumatic symptoms. In fact, I know I do. There are certain moments when I go from calm to panic in an instant and people don’t understand why. I’m consumed by fear of what’s about to happen, even if logically I know it’s nothing. Historically, things have happened and the panic is a fear of what might be, not what is. If I’m in the middle of a panic attack and you’re asking me to explain myself, your timing is off. Panic isn’t logical and a trauma response isn’t a choice. I’ve learned skills, though. Through DBT, psychological therapy, and inpatient stays, I’ve learned to recognize and label emotions (that might seem ridiculously simple, but when you’ve spent a lifetime burying emotions it’s not easy to recognize them). I’ve learned distress tolerance skills. I’ve learned to put boundaries in place that protect me emotionally, just a little bit. Emotional dysregulation is part of my life. I don’t know any other way of living. We all grew up the way we grew up, and sometimes we might take for granted that’s the way things are. I can’t imagine what it’s like to continuously just roll with the punches and let it all go without worrying. I feel the punches and try to work out what I did wrong to get hit in the first place. That doesn’t change. But I’m learning not to carry all that worry into the future and to let the past be a lesson not a life sentence.

    Community Voices

    An Open Letter: To my Mom

    Dear mom,

    I’m forgiving you for an apology that I’ll never get from you and that hurts the most.

    I keep trying to forgive you for blaming me, and neglecting my needs. I’m forgiving you for not being there for me and for all the times I cried myself to sleep because of you. I’m forgiving you for making me parent your kids and myself, and take care of you as well.
    But it’s so hard when you will never admit that you did those things, or that you were wrong.

    Even if you did admit that you were wrong, it wouldn’t do me any good, because I can’t take back all the hurt you’ve caused or the bridges you’ve burned.

    I know that you loved me, and that you did the best you could, but it wasn’t good enough. I deserved better, and I still do. But you won’t listen to that, and I know that you will never be able to do better than what you have done.

    I’m forgiving you for an apology I will never get. I’m making amends for you, and trying to heal my own heart. I guess it makes sense, since I was my own parent anyways, that I would have to parent myself through adulthood, a time when we should be closer than ever, yet I still find myself walking on eggshells around you.

    I’m forgiving you so hard that it hurts. It hurts because you went there. It hurts because of your judgment and rejection. It hurts because I needed you, and you didn’t care. It hurts because you should have been my mom.

    I’m forgiving you, and forgiving you, and now im crying through a damn Lumineers song.

    But I forgive you, mom.

    Because you are my mom. ❤️

    #ReactiveAttachmentDisorder #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #Depression #Anxiety #OpenLetter