When the Fire Can’t Be Tamed: Parenting Through Trauma and Letting Go

I heard a firefighter talk about a fire growing and how sometimes there need to be ways to vent the fire in order to put it out and allow the firefighter access to fight the blaze. I didn’t understand this at first because, from my very limited knowledge of fire science, I figured that if you don’t allow oxygen to feed the fire, it would just die out.

Then, as quickly as that thought entered my mind about my limited knowledge of firefighting, I became painfully aware of the knowledge I do have—about mental health issues, particularly attachment disorders and trauma. My mind jumped to the ways I have to “vent fires” in my own home because of my children with RAD, and how their attachment trauma feeds on fuel and fears that I didn’t create but am desperately trying to tame, heal, or put out.

Some fires are easily extinguished. They require minimal water or a quick sweep with an extinguisher. Other fires in my home produce billowing smoke, raging flames, and leave me choking and suffocating while trying to fight the inferno. I am exhausted from trying to squelch the flames that constantly pop up, while it seems trauma is always fanning them.

So, what do I do when I feel I am losing ground in this battle?

As I said, I feel like an experienced “firefighter” in our home. I continue to look for services for my children, most of whom are getting ready to enter adulthood but are not ready to leave the home. I try to engage them in psychiatry or therapy services, but they are often not medication-compliant or get discharged from therapy due to lack of engagement.

This is where the really hard part comes in. That firefighter said that sometimes they realize the building can’t be saved—and the fire burns. So now we are faced with a heartbreaking choice: having these almost-adults leave our home, because the fires are causing damage to others in our family, and I am afraid that there will be nothing left but a pile of ash and burns we can’t recover from.