Surviving Reactive Attachment Disorder: A Family’s Journey Through Crisis and Advocacy
- Anonymous
- Mar 30
- 8 min read
Megan* and Cory* developed a strong desire to adopt after working overseas for a nonprofit organization. They began to fundraise and prepare years in advance. Because of their work overseas they decided to adopt internationally. Finally after nearly 6 years they were approved to bring their two adopted children home to join their three biological children.
The Early Signs of Reactive Attachment Disorder
Megan and Cory’s youngest biological child, Riley*, was six when her new siblings moved in. “There was zero honeymoon period,” Megan recalls. “Our adopted son Max*, who was three at the time, became violent with us within a couple of weeks, but even before the violence started, it was like a full-on rejection of us from day one. If we would try to do anything that was nurturing, he would find some way to put a stop to it.” For example, if they read him a book, he might stick a finger up his bottom and then rub that finger on his parents. “Within a few weeks of being home, he would start punching Riley in the stomach when he walked past her,” Megan continues. “He would start scratching and hitting us. We really were shocked at how quickly we were seeing such violent behavior.”
But in those early months, they blamed it on the transition. Still, the wild behaviors were exhausting, and after a few months, they found a daycare that could accept Max a few hours a week. “Within a week of starting there, he was trashing the classroom and attacking the teachers, just like he was at home,” Megan says. “That was when it first occurred to us that it might be reactive attachment disorder, but we were really hoping it was just transition.”
Soon, the preschool refused to keep Max. It was then that Cory and Megan began reaching out for services. However, COVID struck, making services — and breaks from the children — much harder to come by. Still, they persevered, seeking any and all help to determine what exactly Max’s struggles were. “We did lots of different doctor’s appointments — eyes, ears, anything that could be causing him to meltdown,” Megan continues. “We were trying to just check all of them off the box. We even did genetics testing.” Where they were living in Canada had too few pediatricians, so getting in to see one was difficult. “We were reaching out to services, and we were really struggling,” Megan recalls. “Things were just getting worse and worse. The physical attacks were getting really bad. He was also running off into roads and running out onto lakes that were partially frozen — everything you could think of to reject any kind of authority.”
Further adding to the family’s stress was the fact Megan had to stay home with the five kids. Schools were closed because of the COVID outbreak. Cory was having a hard time getting in enough hours of work, trying to help Megan manage.
While Max’s behavior took most of the family’s attention, their adopted other adopted child Sammy* was also struggling. “From the first day that we brought them home Sammy would not let me have any kind of contact with Riley,” Megan explains. “If I came into a room, it was like a race to see who could get to me first because they had to claim me and push the other one away. Riley was 6 when they moved in, and so it was really hard going from being the youngest to now having these two kids that were taking all of our attention. Sammy tried to upset Riley as much as possible, making faces at her, stealing things from her, trying to get her in trouble, etc.”
Desperate for Help, Met with Judgment
As the family devolved into chaos, and COVID raged on, Megan and Cory lost their jobs with the nonprofit organization, including the home that came with those jobs. They also lost family and friends. “We weren't getting any help from friends,” Janet says. “We were just getting a lot of judgment. We lost everyone.”
As they looked for housing, they focused on an area that had the most services to help Max and Sammy. “We thought if we moved to that specific area, we’d get more services and help,” Megan explains. “We thought we could build up a village again and try to get back up on our feet. We were already completely burnt out.”
The physical attacks were getting really bad. He was also running off into roads and running out onto lakes that were partially frozen — everything you could think of to reject any kind of authority.
In their new location, they were able to get Max and Sammy into a pediatrician, who immediately put them on medication for attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). Reactive attachment disorder, also known as developmental trauma disorder can include symptoms that mimic ADHD, so it’s a common misdiagnosis. “The ADHD medication made our son 10 times worse,” Megan says. “We tried about three different ones with him.” When those failed, they tried other medication, still to no avail.
The Cost of Reactive Attachment Disorder on a Family
Home life was only getting worse. Max defecated and urinated all over the house. He caused damage and destruction. He would turn almost anything into a weapon. They had to bolt down the heat grate and remove all but his mattress from his room. Still, he would open the window, climb on the roof and threaten to jump.
“The physical attacks on us were one of the hardest things to deal with — constantly being bit scratched and punched,” Megan recalls. “The verbal threats were constant too — ‘I’m going to kill you,’ or ‘I'm going to kill the girls.’ He was daily threatening to kill himself.”
By then, Max had started kindergarten. Not surprisingly, that wasn’t going well either. “At school, he took a window blind string and wrapped it around his neck,” Megan says. “He would rip up paper and shove it down his throat to try to choke himself. He would attack other kids at school daily.”
Through it all, they continued to try and get help for Max and their family. “We were in hundreds of hours of meetings trying to get services and work up the ranks to try to get help,” Megan explains. “But instead of help, we were just getting child protection investigations done on us.”
The first came about when their doctor recommended they call a children’s aid organization and request a temporary placement for Max. The doctor had worked for the organization previously, and they asked her to call on their behalf. But when she did, the organization took it as a report and began an investigation of the family. While the family wasn’t charged as a result, it only added to their stress.
Eventually they did receive respite funding. However, respite done incorrectly in children with reactive attachment disorder/developmental trauma disorder makes matters worse. Max would get his way at respite, then be all the more rebellious at home. “Our other kids were pretty much fending for themselves,” Megan says. “Our two oldest boys were having to step up as caregivers to their two younger siblings. Sometimes we would get a phone call and have to run across town because Max would be flipping out at a respite location, day camp, or out on the roads. They would even have to finish making dinner and feed the girls. Each time Max would become violent, the two oldest kids would take their younger siblings down into the basement and take care of them, sometimes for hours while we dealt with Max and police.”
Like most families dealing with developmental trauma disorder, Megan and Cory tried various parenting strategies, constantly self-educating themselves and doing whatever they could to keep the family safe. To keep Max off the roof, Megan’s father helped build him a safer room downstairs. Still, they knew it wasn’t enough and pursued in-patient treatment for Max. But instead of accepting Max into in-patient treatment, the facility recommended parent training. They said inpatient would harm his bonding, even though there clearly was no bonding taking place.
At this time, the family lost their funding for respite as well. They hired a lawyer and tried to get Child Protective Services (CPS) to step in and take Max, explaining they could not keep him safe. CPS stalled, claiming they’d first have to find a placement.
“We owe our lives to RAD Advocates,” Megan says. “Our advocate, Amy VanTine, encouraged us to do what was best for our family and for our son. She really walked us through our options and how to navigate the system.”
As CPS continued to drag their feet, things continued to get worse. One day, when Max was 5, the school called. Max had found access to the school roof, and the police were on their way. When the police arrived, they determined he needed to go to the hospital for a mental health evaluation. Megan and Cory gave the hospital their social worker’s contact information and let the hospital know he was in the process of being taken into CPS custody, and the social worker would be the contact. When CPS contacted them, they held strong that they could not keep him safe in their home.
“We owe our lives to RAD Advocates,” Megan says. “Our advocate, Amy VanTine, encouraged us to do what was best for our family and for our son. She really walked us through our options and how to navigate the system."
This step began a two-year legal battle with CPS. CPS has had a very difficult time finding any placement that could handle Max. As legal bills mounted, Megan and Cory had to resort to representing themselves in court. Once Max was out of the home, Sammy’s behaviors became more prominent. This is often the case, as the child with more aggressive behaviors takes center stage. Although she wasn’t violent, she was used to living in chaos. With Max gone, she took over creating the chaos, with her behaviors directed at Riley and at Megan, who she saw as the nurturing enemy. Both Max and Sammy eventually received a diagnosis of disturbance of attachment.
Through all of the chaos and stress, Megan and Cory's marriage was also strained. And the triangulation — a symptom of reactive attachment disorder — that they endured from their adopted kid fostered that strain. “I was pretty much in mental breakdown,” Megan says. “It was really, really tough. And then my husband moved out, and I was terrified because I knew I was going to really struggle parenting all four kids by myself and Sammy, particularly, because that meant now I had no one to help me.” Families dealing with reactive attachment disorder/developmental trauma disorder without support often face similar difficulties and breakdowns, which is why RAD Advocates is working to change the system.
Cory tried taking Sammy for half the time, but that upped the triangulation. He also tried taking her full time, but Cory was dealing with his own struggles. Eventually, a family they knew who had also adopted previously offered to take Sammy, and they are now moving toward adopting her. However, this triggered yet another CPS investigation. In all, Megan and Cory have been investigated five times. “It’s very traumatizing having the system continuously blame you and tell you that you’re a failure as a parent and that you’re harming your children, and it’s scary,” Megan shares. It’s taken a significant toll on her physical health as well as her mental health, so much so that she can no longer work.
“If they understood that this is a total rejection of caregiving, it wouldn’t be a parent blame game, and there would be hope. But there’s zero hope because they don’t understand that, and they can’t comprehend it,” Megan laments. “Until the system can recognize RAD and understand it as something real, families like ours are going to continue to suffer and fall apart.”
To other families dealing with reactive attachment disorder/developmental trauma disorder, Megan recommends reaching out to RAD Advocates. “It didn’t fix all of our problems, but it gave us the extra hope needed to know that we weren’t crazy and that this happens to other people,” she says. “It was the first time we really felt believed, understood and cared for, and it breathed life into our broken souls that were suffocating. In all of the things that we’ve done, having their advocacy was the one thing that helped.”
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