RSD In My Life

RSD has definitely touched my life.  A mommy blogger wrote a post on the subject for Scary Mommy or another such platform (forgive me for not saving the site, I have no recollection of the post). But I was gobsmacked when I read her post.  In discussing her experience with RSD, the author was describing my daughter to a T.  It was uncanny, surreal, validating, scary.  I felt a rush of warmth, that I was not alone and my daughter was not alone in this struggle I could never quite label.  It was enlightening to have a label.  It was wonderful to feel empowered that I may make headway in helping my daughter.  It was terrifying to connect RSD with ADHD.

I had my suspicions about BumbleBee, my eldest girl.  I had gut feelings that pointed me towards an ADHD-inattentive type diagnosis.  Reading this article was the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back.  I knew it in my heart and my bones.  This RSD thing, which only really exists in the ADHD realm, was the confirmation and motivation I needed to seek help from our pediatrician.

I urge you to study RSD.  Its insidious path is a thief of the highest degree: it steals our ability to build a solid foundation during childhood development; it steals our ability to accept love and develop authentic self worth and healthy self esteem; it steals away the opportunities to tether to mommy, daddy, and siblings during those first precious years; it steals from parents the ability to connect in profound ways to their children; it steals parents’ ability to feel confident in their parenting.

I have been on both sides of this theft. As a lost, untethered girl and the parent to one. And the grief, loss, and pain are substantial.

The trauma is seemingly invisible, but it is obstinate and considerable in magnitude.

I am only now undoing a lot of the damage, the trauma, the weeds of RSD, ADHD, and ASD that have wound their way throughout my foundation. I imagine a foundation meant to be of solid concrete.  Thick, ropey, durable weeds have grown like roots throughout my concrete foundation.  Since my diagnoses, the stubborn weeds have disappeared.  They dissipated like a corny magician’s smoke.  I have been left with gaping holes and tunnels in my foundation. But I am stronger for it.  I have been able to fill the hollows with love, light, healing.  Mostly love I was not able to receive before.  Mostly love that the old me put in a queue because I was so convinced I was undeserving.  Mostly love that I rejected because I was so damn sure I was garbage.

I have found agency, the power I was needing all along, to help myself.  I have acquired skills, resources, and words to help myself and help my daughters.  But most importantly, I have received diagnoses that give me access to the support I need from my doctors, social services, and the community at large.

Sent from a very tender, and still healing Mama Tine

I recommend chadd.org to start your studying journey

This is likely the Scary Mommy post mentioned above

ADDitudemag.com resource

What You Need to Know About RSD