My son got on the bus today. The third Friday of the school year. For most parents, getting on the bus is just a typical start to any school day. But for us, it’s somewhat of a milestone. Because usually, for the last 10 years, we’re lucky if he steps onto the bus and makes it on time to school. When he successfully hops on, we’re pleasantly surprised when we don’t get a phone call from the school principal at some point later in the day.
You see, although our son looks like a typical tenth grader, if you look, or listen closer, you’ll see the sure fire signs of it.
What is “it”?
It’s just ADHD. It sounds simple, right? If you are nodding yes, you need to read on because ADHD, or attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, is far from simple.
Why? Because according to the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH), “Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) is marked by an ongoing pattern of inattention and/or hyperactivity-impulsivity that interferes with functioning or development. People with ADHD experience an ongoing pattern of the following types of symptoms: inattention, hyperactivity, and/or impulsivity.” And if that doesn’t sound complicated enough, trust me, it is far more than this. But, for now, let’s get back to today’s story.
This year my son, let’s call him Hawk, made the morning bus only 5 out of 13 days of school. Or 39 percent of the school year. For the first two weeks I gave him slack because we just started 25 mg of a new medication, Zoloft, a powerful antidepression and antianxiety medication. Unfortunately, some of the side effects include insomnia. That, coupled with the fact that for the month leading up to the first day of school we urged and pleaded with Hawk to go to bed earlier every night, he either fought that plea or simply couldn’t soothe himself to sleep. Regardless, we communicated with the school within the first week to let them know that we were facing challenges. They were very supportive.
Earlier this summer, with the encouragement of his new ADHD coach and therapist, we found a new psychiatrist (we just moved last year from another state) and also got a new prescription for a non-stimulant ADHD medication, Qelbree. 100 mg to start.
We agreed upon the non-stimulant option because with previous medication trials, we found that stimulants caused extreme moodiness, anger, and sometimes aggression during the afternoon rebound time. Rebound time, is that time in the afternoon when medications begin to wear off. For children with fast metabolisms like our son, the effects can be scary, aggressive, angry, and hard to witness.
Other things we did to try to get Hawk reset for the new school year were to shut off electronics beginning at 10 p,m. (until 6:30 a.m.) when he leaves for school. That included removing his gaming devices and blocking his laptop and phone.
We also strongly urged him to join a sport. Any sport. You see, last year he ran cross country, even though he never ran long distance before, and he didn’t place at the top, the activity and positivity from the coach, teammates, and parents not only tired him out but enabled him to perform well in school even though he was exhausted. At that time, he wasn’t medicated. And even though we had just moved from a different state, he actually did great!
When cross country season ended, he chose to not continue on with track and field (it’s what most high school cross country runners do). He said he needed a break to focus on his schoolwork and his favorite pastime, skateboarding. He also wanted to study for his learner’s permit as he would be turning 15 in April. So we agreed to give him a break.
From January until April, he needed constant reminding and encouragement to get up on time, make it to first period on time, complete his homework, and even to remember to go skateboarding. His grades took a nosedive. He was failing half of his subjects at times, even though we hired an expensive outside tutor to help.
About a month before his birthday, I asked him what he wanted to do? Did he want to arrange to celebrate with friends somewhere fun? The local indoor arcade/bowling alley/ropes course/laser tag venue? The movies? Paintball? Dinner at his favorite restaurant with friends? His answer was always, “Let me think about it. I’m not sure.”
When his actual birthday rolled around in late April, he said he guessed he just wanted to go out to dinner with us as a family. We asked if he wanted to invite friends, he said, no. So we took him to a new local hibachi restaurant because he wanted to try it. It seemed like a great day.
Until around 11:30 p.m. that night. When I awoke upon hearing a strange scraping noise somewhere inside our house. While my husband snored soundly next to me, I tiptoed to the upstairs of our rental. When I reached his bedroom door, I could hear faint music playing, which was a common occurrence.
I opened the bedroom door and in the darkness I could faintly make out his figure under his bedcovers. I walked over to the edge of his bed to make sure he was okay. When I went to gently touch his head, something wasn’t right.
I reached for his shoulders, only to find I’d been Ferris Buellered! This kid used an old stuffed animal, pillows and clothes to create a Hawk dummy!
Then I heard that scraping sound again. Only it was much closer. I looked over to his bedroom window. It was open, but the shades were pulled down. I walked over, and pulled up the shades only to find two sets of hands holding onto the edge of the windowsill from the outside and what appeared to be the top hooks of one of our fire escape ladders.
I cautiously, and quite frankly scarily, said, “Hawk?”
He said, “Hey Mom!” I said, “Hawk! What on Earth are you doing?!?!”
He said, “Oh, I just wanted to test out the fire ladder because we never had a chance.”
I responded, “Hawk! Get back in here right now? Are you crazy? It’s 11:30 p.m.! There are alligators and wild boar and who knows what else out there!”
Hawk, “Mom, it’s no big deal!”
Me, “No BIG DEAL?!? It’s a school night AND it’s also past curfew! Have you completely lost your mind?”
After a few minutes of back-and-forth arguing with loudly hushed voices, I convinced him to come in. I noticed he was wearing his backpack.
So much for the testing out the fire ladder excuse. What this story boils down to is that this was the point in time when I fully realized we had a BIG problem. Our first-born boy had completely gone off the rails and we didn’t know why. It couldn’t just be that he had ADHD.
And what I found the next morning proved that point. It wasn’t just ADHD. It was also vaping–both nicotine and weed. Our challenging, but sweet kid was self-medicating.
And the year was about to get much worse. This was just the tip of the iceberg.
To learn what happened next, please check back tomorrow for Part II to this story.
