Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection

I have started to write about this many times and stopped, but I am convinced that my reluctance to write about this will somehow one day contribute to his discomfort. And because I am watching a special about a child with shizophrenia and I am right now so thankful that my child will be happy, sound of mind and safe.

My name is Nell, and I put my ten-year-old on antidepressants.

We have friends and family, in and out of the medical field, who feel very strongly about giving psychiatric medication to children. I think it was our knowledge (Corey's and mine) of those sensitivities about how taboo this can be that caused our initial upset over having to make this decision. That and when confronted with the likelihood that it will take mood-enhancing medication to make your child feel "normal," it is the same as hearing that you have failed your child. We did not fail Jake. I hope that those of you reading this who say they would "never" put their children on this type of medication never have a child confronted with the issues Jake has dealt with in the last two years.

What we now understand is how deep an impairment Jake's ADHD is to his executive functioning - his ability for his brain to act quickly enough to control his actions. This is exacerbated by his generalized anxiety disorder, while at the same time disguising it. So for five years he's been medicated for ADHD and the focus was on controlling that, when none of the remedies were really working because the anxiety has been active all along. Then his father deployed, his mother died and life as he knew it was suddenly over and the shock to his system created this perfect, maladaptive storm. This is a kid who is afraid to feel because his feelings are unpleasant and he would rather keep the unpleasant away. The prospect of feeling causes him so much anxiety and his responses to everyday triggers are unpredictable and disproportionate.

His psychologist referred him to a child psychiatrist - the guy she would take her kids to if one of them needed psychiatric intervention. He explained Jake's avoidance of feelings and explained to us how an antidepressant would loosen Jake's tension and anxiety and would remove the fear around expressing his anger and disappointment and sadness in appropriate and expected ways. Adding this medication would mean that his therapy sessions would be more productive and that our attempts to teach him how to control himself would be more productive. Jake was present when the doctor recommended an additional medicine and agreed to give it a try. I cried in defeat and fear, but in the end I trusted the psychologist's judgment. She would not have sent us to anyone who was liberal with a prescription pad. And I was not going to let my child be in pain because I was uncomfortable with a remedy.

We started the medicine in May. I examined him every day for signs of negative side effects or for any indication that he was becoming a zombie or a robot. We saw slight improvements the first few weeks and then suddenly, someone had turned the light on in my kid. He is a happy boy. He can tell you when he's angry and why using his words and not volume or force. He can talk about his mother. He can hate cancer. He still loses himself in computer games and books. He's still wildly imaginative. He smiles almost all the time. He can let himself cry.

Months ago he would have flewn into a rage if he did not hear me order his food correctly in a drive-thru or if I had to ask him too many times how he wanted something. Recently I did not order all that he wanted at Sonic and he did not notice until we got home with the food. Then, instead of getting very upset and yelling and crying about my not ordering his cheese sticks, he simply said he meant to tell me he wanted that, and asked to have some of mine.

He hugs me every day and tells me he loves me. He rubs my arm from wrist to shoulder when I read to him. He looks at the faces of people who are speaking to him. I was in the carport painting furniture when he came home from Beaumont on a Sunday. He walked outside and told me to please stop what I was doing. When I put the paintbrush down, he threw both arms around me, kissed my head and told me he was glad to be home.

He now eats cake with icing on it. This is the first time I have not had to get him special desserts or wipe the icing from his serving. Last week, he ate chocolate pie with whipped creme on it. Even Landen is in shock, for his brother so hated creamy and frothy substances he once threw up on Landen in the bathtub when he was sprayed with foam soap. We had to make Landen stop telling Jake he was eating icing. Last week he ate mashed potatoes. He's dipping food in ranch dressing. His medicine has even taken the anxiety out of food.

So I'm just saying the thing you're not supposed to say because people think it's wrong. Medicine is not the answer for everything. It cannot be thrown at every problem. When he has the mental faculties and behavioral training to control himself, he may not have to take it any longer. But this is the first solution that has helped our child wake up happy and stay that way every day, and I am not going to be ashamed of that. I am not going to let him be ashamed of it either.