–by Janyne McConnaughey, PhD The teacher and I exchanged knowing looks as a kindergartener flung herself across the table, scattering crayons and paper in every direction. We understood that intervening at this moment would only make it worse, although it probably was going to get worse anyway. I was a volunteer. I had no clue what to do, so I sat down on the floor next to the table under which the child had crawled.
–by Laura Dennis, with much gratitude to Hilary Jacobs Hendel, to whom I owe both the title and content of this post This is not a book review Last month, I wrote a post previewing Hilary Jacobs Hendel’s new book, It’s Not Always Depression: Working the Change Triangle to Listen to the Body, Discover Core Emotions, and Connect to Your Authentic Self. In it, I promised a review of that book, which Hilary was gracious
–by Laura Dennis I don’t know about you, but parenting a child who has suffered trauma and been diagnosed with reactive attachment disorder can bring out a side of me no one should ever see. I’ve yelled far more than I care to admit (it’s a miracle I still have a voice with which to speak) and I’ve locked myself up to cry. I’ve revved up to fever pitch, then just as quickly shut down.
–by Sara Borgstede (originally posted on the author’s blog, The Holy Mess, on November 14, 2017) Have you recently given birth to a baby or brought a new family member into your home through foster care or adoption? Maybe you are a relative or friend looking for Christmas gifts for a new little one in your life. I’m thrilled to bring you this guide to gifts that promote attachment and bonding. We were foster parents for
–by Emerging Mama Monica Reynolds [originally published on the author’s blog, November 14, 2017, just in time for the biggest food extravaganza of them all!] Just this past week, I discovered a new secret stash of food and food wrappers in my child’s bedroom. It wasn’t in the same place as the stash before, or the one before that, or…the one. before. that. Secret stashes of food and food wrappers are a sad reminder that while
–by Lorraine Fuller Time to confess some things. When I first started this journey of parenting a child with trauma, attachment, and other issues, I read everything I could get my hands on. I joined groups, attended classes, and went on retreats. I was determined to do everything right to help my son heal. From my reading, I got the impression that it was like a math problem: if I simply followed the steps and
–by Hilary Jacobs Hendel, LCSW, originally published on the author’s blog, September 14, 2017 “The problem with verbal abuse is there is no evidence,” Marta shared. She came for help with a long-standing depression. “What do you mean lack of evidence?” I asked her. “When people are physically or sexually abused it’s concrete and real. But verbal abuse is amorphous. I feel like if I told someone I was verbally abused, they’d think I
–by Hilary Jacobs Hendel Originally published March 10, 2015 How can it be that a seemingly depressed person, one who shows clinical symptoms, doesn’t respond to antidepressants or psychotherapy? Perhaps because the root of his anguish is something else. Several years ago a patient named Brian* was referred to me. He had suffered for years from an intractable depression for which he had been hospitalized. He had been through cognitive behavioral therapy, psychoanalytic psychotherapy, supportive
–by Lorraine Fuller Back-to-school time involves mixed feelings for so many of us trauma moms. We might look forward to the respite it provides. I am a stay-at-home mom and while I love my kids, I enjoy the much-needed break at the end of a long summer. The routine my child thrives on is easier for me to keep up with during school. Plus being able to grocery shop without my son stealing is nice.
–by Sara Borgstede This was originally posted on the author’s website, The Holy Mess – Balancing Faith, Family, and Fitness, on June 4, 2017. As we drive through the beautiful rolling hills of western New York, my husband reaches over to grasp my hand. I glance over and see a stream of tears run down his cheek as he navigates the car. My eyes are dry. I’ve cried so much over these days, I have no