Minding Mental Illness

He was such an adorable little boy. Red hair with brown eyes that sparkled. My first-born child. I was in my mid-30s when he was born, and I believed I was ready for the challenge of motherhood. When I was pregnant, I had visions of this perfect little angel, wearing perfectly pressed clothes, meeting all his milestones early. I had even practiced saying his first and middle name over and over to see if it sounded professional and regal enough.  

I did my first pregnancy test on September 11, 2001. Yes, that 9/11 and the test showed positive. I was so excited–I was pregnant! I called my then husband to spread the good news then headed off to work in downtown Manhattan. I worked across the street from the World Trade Center on 9/11/01. Well, as you can imagine, that day went badly. I ran for my life protecting my unborn baby that I only knew existed starting that very day. That’s how my son first announced himself to me and the world.  

When giving birth to him, I opted for a natural delivery. We were almost there, the doctor even said to me “he’s a red-head” but then things started to go badly. He wasn’t positioned right for the delivery and couldn’t be turned. He was transverse. In layman’s terms, he was lying sideways in the birth canal which requires a C-Section. My boy had finally entered the world, albeit by force.

His pre-school years were marked with difficulties relaxing, being aggressive and mischievous and walking around the pre-school. Most notably, he just couldn’t learn quickly. He struggled with potty-training, spoke later than expected and no matter how many reading lessons he received it was just not happening. I was starting to get nervous. What’s wrong with my son?

Elementary school provided all sorts of new challenges for him. He still walked around the classroom and couldn’t focus on the lessons which made him become frustrated and even more aggressive. He just didn’t want to go to school anymore. He wouldn’t wake up easily in the mornings and he would spend his time in school in the nurse or guidance counselor’s offices. We tried everything to make him want to go to school and learn. Better diet, re-taught him every lesson at home at night, did reward charts in conjunction with school. Nothing worked to any great degree and it was hard work to maintain. In second grade, it was just getting even worse. You could tell he was trying hard but there was a wall preventing him from succeeding. I called a neurologist. What’s wrong with my son?

My son was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). It was determined that he had low “H” though. The next steps, to medicate or not. I deliberated about it a lot. I’m the type of person who won’t even take an aspirin for a headache, I just tough things out. I didn’t think though that we could just tough out this condition. He was placed on a low dose of Focalin at that time. I was defeated and sad. My boy was not as perfect as I had dreamed. He had a medical condition that affected his brain. As I sat crying the next day, my son came over to me and handed me a waffle he was eating. He placed blueberries to make eyes and a mouth. The mouth was smiling. He then told me, this is the first day I am happy–thank you Mommy. Wow. He needed the medication after all. I felt a sense of relief and vindicated as a mother.

My son is now 18 years old. He has been on ADHD meds (or as he calls them, his “thinking pills”) consistently since the second grade. He capped out on the Focalin dose and moved to the Vyvanse family. He capped out on that dose too. He is now 18 years old and on Adderall. He still struggles with his ADHD. While in High School, his assignments always looked disorganized and his bookbag in disarray. His thoughts were there but the organization was way more chaotic. He hated reading books or studying, he just couldn’t stick with it.  I bought him e-books, or he used Spark Notes. He was tested for a learning disability, but he does not have one. If he’s interested in something, like video games, computers or music he is brilliant. Did I mention he was captain of the drum-line in a winning high school marching band? As an ADHD mom, I didn’t have many academic bragging moments, so I became his greatest musical champion.

As he is becoming a man in his late teens, he is still notorious for losing and misplacing things- which gets worse as the dose needs adjusting or as medication needs changing. He gets easily distracted at times and requires some adjustments and guidance to stay on track. He can be impulsive as well. He dropped out of college after one semester, there was too much reading he said, and he is now enrolled in a top-notch trade school. He always learned best with his hands. I always called him my tactile learner. He sits near me and listens to his trade school zoom lectures sometimes. To me, he still reminds me of that second-grade boy trying to learn addition except now he stares at the ceiling, plays with his pencil and looks at his phone.

He just passed an important HVAC proficiency test. No studying, just listening and learning with his hands. He will have a lucrative vocation after all.

You’d be surprised what you can do even with a restless mind.