I know that many of you who read this blog read Julie’s blog as well. If you do, you know that Julie’s daughter, Lulu, was hospitalized again a couple of days ago. This recent development occurred after Lulu’s escalation, where she once again threatened to hurt herself or others.


As Julie was describing the scene to me yesterday, she mentioned KayKay’s reaction … Without sharing details that are not mine to share, I will tell you that it was at that point I lost it myself. Suddenly I was having my own flashbacks to scenes that occurred in my own home … scenes my healthy kids witnessed with the attendant fall-out on their emotional health. Traumatized kids share their trauma with everyone.


Julie’s entire family is suffering—suffering greatly—from PTSD. I have watched my dear friend struggle for years, trying to help Lulu heal, trying to find that magic bullet. I am constantly in awe of Julie’s perseverance, the vast amount of knowledge she has amassed, the depth of her commitment to her child. Her description of the events of the past couple of days was journalistic in nature … a reporter, dispassionately describing horrific events unfolding in front of her eyes. Julie is well past exhausted—she’s numb.


I continually feel impotent and frustrated about my inability to offer up any magic words or quick fixes for those of you living one moment at a time, hoping to make it through one day at a time. I rack my brain to find some brilliant idea about what I can do for Julie or her family; what I might say or do for Kelly’s family as she struggles with Sammy; what I might suggest to all of you who post poignant comments describing your lives with kids who turn your lives upside down.


Julie, Kelly and I share a strong faith and a belief that God has some bigger plan in all of this. Certainly, without Amy and Lulu and Sammy, ATN wouldn’t be growing exponentially and serving more and more families across the country. Were it not for our children, I wouldn’t have met two of the most awesome friends a person could find. In fact, I have found it harder and harder to find people who have as much depth and compassion, or as much to offer in terms of a friendship or a relationship, as the awesome people I encounter on a daily basis—those involved in at least trying to make the world a better place for children and families.


My heart aches for Julie. My heart aches for Kelly. My heart aches for all of you, struggling with your dysfunctional, family-bashing kids. My own heart still aches for my own losses. I have but one thing to offer … we can plow through the pain together.


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