ADHD Teens – Page 2

9 Months Later (Part II of “3:30 a.m.”)

I sit here in awe of the fact that I’m here typing the second part of this story and it’s NINE MONTHS LATER!

Everything that has transpired since my last post in January is so unbelievably heartbreaking, frustrating, and at times, mind-numbing.

Today is September 21, 2023. My father, whom I was never incredibly close with (not by my choice), is dead. He passed away on September 17 due to complications from a hip-surgery and severe dementia. He was 82.

As if losing a parent, regardless of how close we were or were not, isn’t difficult enough, our now 16-year-old son, Hawk, is attending Day 4 of a partial hospitalization mental health and substance abuse rehab for adolescents. It’s taken not just months, but years for us to get to this point. Yet it seems like this all happened in the blink of an eye. It’s like the old saying, “The moments are long , but the years are short” but in our case, by ten-fold.

So how did we get to today?

Through an unconscionable amount of fear, anxiety, grief, anger, and patience.

After the incident with Hawk-Squared last fall, Hawk was suspended from school because the school resource officer learned that Hawk and Hawk-Squared were both guilty of throwing around death threats on social media. Brilliant.

As it turns out (and unbeknownst to me until this month), Hawk-Squared was actually expelled from school. Maybe someday I can share more about how I discovered this, but not today.

That’s only the beginning of our story, really. My son, and the aforementioned Blakely, ended up dating one another exclusively until just a few days ago, when she finally broke up with him. Although he tried to break up with her a few weeks ago and then got back with her because she threatened suicide. Fabulous manipulation skills! Their relationship lasted for almost a year!

During their eleven months of dating, the mental health of our son and the dynamics within our family, steadfastly deteriorated. As if it were even possible for it to get worse.

Our son’s use of marijuana went from what was probably once or twice a month to chronic use–every day.

Concurrently, he became addicted to vaping nicotine, increased his alcohol consumption to a few times a week, transitioned from smoking weed to consuming it in edible formulations daily, and experimented with benzodiazepines, acid, and mushrooms.

In December of last year, I learned that he was suicidal; but didn’t realize it until March 13 of this year when he had a marijuana and alcohol-induced psychotic break. On that Monday night, Hawk was distraught because my husband and I were trying to limit his time with Blakely because his schoolwork was suffering. He told me that if we didn’t let him go with Blakely that he would “kill himself.” I told him to not use those words and later that day after my husband warned him about the danger of using those words in a manipulative way. Then right after this conversation on, Hawk smuggled alcohol into our house (we keep our adult small adult stash locked up) AND got high.

He became so intoxicated that at around 10 p.m. that night, he trashed his bedroom so severely that several pieces of furniture were broken, the lava lamp his girlfriend bought him was smashed on the porcelain-tile floor, and multiple holes were made in the walls and the door.

He was so enraged that he screamed, “I FUCKING hate myself! I just want to DIE!!!!!” “I FUCKING hate you both and wish you’d die!!!!”

We were terrified and concerned for his safety and everyone else’s (and didn’t realize he was intoxicated) so we called the police. When they arrived, he ran away. The sheriffs ran after him with search dogs. Our entire neighborhood knew what was happening because a) we have very aware and, some might say, nosy neighbors who complain about everything; this kind of situation is far from the norm in our community; and b) a concerned mom chose to post his name all over the neighborhood Facebook page. (Fortunately, she promptly realized her mistake and removed it).

After searching for him for what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality probably only about 30 – 40 minutes, the officers found him at his girlfriend’s house 6 miles away–he called an Uber and hauled himself to her grandparent’s house (because, of course, she doesn’t live with her parents; that’s an entirely different drama). They were unaware that he climbed through her bedroom window until the police banged on their front door.

Upon finding him, we asked the sheriff’s office to 5150 him. For those of you who aren’t familiar with this, it’s when law enforcement involuntarily escorts someone to a mental health facility because they are deemed in immediate danger and are a potential harm to themselves or others.

They took him to the closest children’s hospital ER and then, after he was evaluated, he was taken to a children’s behavioral health facility where he remained for 72 hours.

The toxicology reports came back and showed that he had a .04 blood alcohol content. He was definitely drunk, and high, when he had his outburst.

Hawk spent the next 72 hours in the children’s facility. I visited him every day. Every day he was in tears and would sob and beg for me to discharge him. However, I stood my ground and made him finish out the 72 hours in hopes that the attending physician would write orders for a bed-to-bed transfer to a residential treatment facility about 70 miles away.

Unfortunately, the doctors refused to do this. They would only write for outpatient therapy and a psychiatrist. Because, in this state, unless you literally have a needle hanging out of your arm, and are willing to go to rehab, you’re screwed.

So under careful watch, my husband and I tried to support our son by withdrawing him from his brick-and-mortar school and pivoting him into the state online school. All of us met with his school assistant principal, guidance counselors, and case manager (he has an IEP for “other health impairment” for his ADHD, anxiety, depression, and quite possibly ODD–oppositional defiance disorder). We urged him to finish out his second semester online so that he could better address his mental health (and marijuana/nicotine/alcohol addiction) to recoup his failing grades.

And it worked. For the most part. Or so we thought.

For Summer (Part III of “3:30 a.m.”) read Monday’s post here.

3:30 a.m.

Some say that nothing good ever happens after midnight, right? I can’t say that I disagree. But if nothing good ever happens after midnight, how about after 3:30 a.m.?

Photo by SevenStorm JUHASZIMRUS on Pexels.com

In this case, I’m referring to a very specific 3:30 a.m. The one following the Friday Night Lights football game that our son Hawk attended, and was subsequently kicked out of with his friend Ivan.

Unbeknownst to my husband or two other children, sometime before 3:30 a.m. on this Friday night turned into very early Saturday morning, our son Hawk chose to sneak out of his bedroom window again. (If I haven’t already written about the other times he snuck out within the last year, comment below to remind me to post later about those stories).

Anyhow, at 3:30 a.m. on this night, I woke up to go to the bathroom and to get a drink of water in the kitchen. On my way back from the typical water fetching routine in the kitchen on any given night, I always stop to peek in on each of my kids. This night was no different. Upon checking on Hawk, as I squeaked the door open, I noticed that the window shade was drawn and that the window was unlocked.

Hawk had crawled out of his window and was no longer anywhere to be found on our property!

Here’s where the story gets very murky. Because so much has happened over the last four months, I haven’t been back to this blog site to provide any updates. And of course I’ve forgotten many of the details.

But what I believe probably occurred upon discovering that he wasn’t home, is that I either checked Life360 to track where he was OR I tried to track him using Life360 or FindMyiPhone.

From what I recall, I texted him to please come home immediately. He assured me that everything was alright and not to worry. He said that he was at one of his other “friends'” houses, And that this friend was also named “Hawk.” In this case, we’ll refer to him as “Hawk Squared.”

He assured me that everything was okay and that he would be home soon..Meanwhile, I was so frightened that there was zero chance that I could just go back to sleep.

From what I recall, I grabbed my car keys and I drove to his friends’ house and demanded that he return home with me. Out of shear embarrassment, he got in the car. Moments later when we arrived home, I told him to hand over his phone and go to bed and that we’d talk later that day.

What I didn’t know when I said that was that apparently there were other kids sleeping over at Hawk Squared’s house, including a girl.

I only discovered this the next day when she and two other friends, including Ivan, showed up at our house after school. I thought they had just planned on hanging out and told Hawk that they weren’t supposed to be there and would have to leave because he was technically grounded for sneaking out.

However, Hawk pleaded with me to just let them stay for a few minutes. Although very unhappy, I decided to give them a few minutes to say their goodbyes.

But then things escalated quickly. I heard their voices increasing in volume. When I walked to the bonus room to ask what was going on, I saw panic and fear in their eyes. My son responded, “Hawk Squared is driving over here and he wants to kill me!”

I said, ”Wait, what?!?”

The girl, Blakely, responded, “Hawk Squared is angry because he knows that I don’t like him and that I’m interested in Hawk. He’s threatening to kill Hawk because of it.”

Before I knew it, I was pleading with my Hawk to stay inside and to not go outside. But he wouldn’t listen.

The next thing I knew, Hawk Squared screeched up in his beaten up Honda Civic, jumped out of the driver’s seat and ran caddy corner across our front lawn onto our driveway.

He shouted at Hawk, “How could you do this, Hawk? You’re such a horrible person! I’m going to fucking kill you dude!”

To which my Hawk screamed, “Oh yeah, well I’m gonna kill you!”

(Side note: before Hawk S. arrived, my Hawk grabbed a kitchen knife because he was so frightened. I was able to get it from him and secure it.)

As i physically stood in front of my Hawk I shouted, “No one is going to kill anyone! Stop it guys! Hawk S. leave right now or I will call the police!” As I was screaming this, I thought, “OMG, this is like a Jerry Springer episode!” Note: not to sound braggadocious but we live in a pretty affluent neighborhood. How ironic.

He responded, “Really, you’re going to call the police on me? You think I’m that horrible of a person?”

I said, “I don’t even know you to be able to answer that but what I do know is that if you don’t leave right now, I WILL CALL THE POLICE!”

With that he shouted, “You’re the worst person in the whole world, Hawk! I hope you go kill yourself! FUCK YOU!!!!!!” Then he jumped in his car and sped off.

Check back next week for Part II of "3:30 a.m."

For more Fierce Boy tales, check out https://wordpress.com/post/fierceboy.com/7.

Too Much To Keep Up

Photo Courtesy of Truly Lemonade Hard Seltzer, October 10, 2022.

This morning I found two cans of Truly hard seltzer next to Hawk. I walked into his room at the ungodly hour of 5:35 a.m. to make sure he was awake for school.

He was passed out, fully clothed, on top of his bedsheets. With an empty can on his nightstand, and another hiding behind his desk chair.

“How on earth did he get those?!?!” I thought, as you probably are too as you read this. We have all of our alcohol locked up in a secure closet. More importantly, we don’t drink Truly. Or White Claw. Or the Kirkland/Costco variation. We have a few bottles of Sam Adams and a small assortment of IPAs, as well as several bottles of my favorite chardonnay. We don’t even own hard liquor anymore.

But regardless, HOW DOES HE GET IT? I’m guessing via a neighborhood “friend” or a social media plug.

Yes, we’re horrible parents. We had parental controls set up on his iPhone and his MacBook but he figured out a way around them. As he always does and always has.

Because even though he’s acting extremely stupidly and carelessly, he is very smart. At one time testing at the gifted level. Nonetheless, he’s failing most subjects at school. He’s late and/or tardy almost every day.

His new girlfriend is no winner. Sorry, but not sorry. Her behavior is the female equivalent to his. It’s as if they compare notes to try to one-up one another. I try to treat her kindly because I don’t want to create another wedge into our already dysfunctional relationship. However, I truly hope this will propel him to push her away too.

I have at least a half a dozen posts to complete about everything that has occurred over the last few weeks.

But I’m so tired. So heartbroken. Feeling so helpless.

What do you do when you believe you’ve tried everything to help your child, but nothing works?

How can you help him when he doesn’t want help?

Friday Night Lights

When you’re a teenager, what’s more American than spending a Friday night cheering on your high school’s football team with your friends?

When Hawk texted me from school the day after being busted at his “friend” Mario’s house, asking if he could go to the football game that night with his friend Ivan, I thought, “I suppose it’s good wholesome fun, why not?”

I texted Ivan’s mom to make sure she was okay with having them meet there and she agreed. So I bought Hawk a ticket and texted it to him (if you’re a Gen X or a millennial without kids or grandchildren, then know that today’s kids present digital or QR codes to gain admission to school events).

The plan was to have Hawk meet Ivan at the game because Ivan’s parents would be dropping him off at the football field on their way back from the city. I dropped Hawk off at the front entrance of the school because he wanted to walk in and not have to wait in the long drop off line.

When I saw him walk away from the van, I noticed that he had a bottle of his favorite juice drink. Which struck me sort of strange, but not really because the kid was always carrying around water, Gatorade, iced tea or some kind of cold beverage.

I drove to the nearby pharmacy to pick up a prescription and then to the grocery store to grab some essentials. Less than 45 minutes after dropping Hawk off at the front entrance, I receive a phone call from the school district. My heart dropped a bit. At first I thought it was a weekly update or alert from one of the school principals. I answered hesitantly on my bluetooth.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Yes, may I please speak with Mrs. I?” the young female voice asked.

“Yes, this is she.” I hesitantly responded.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. I. This is Mrs. Stuart. Everyone is okay. Hawk is okay. But I’m going to have to ask you or someone to come and pick him up from the game. A principal just caught Ivan drinking from a bottle containing what we believe is alcohol. Hawk didn’t drink from it as far as we know but because he’s with Ivan, we have to ask him to leave too.”

After a quick discussion, I learned that Ivan’s parents gave permission for me to pick both of them up because they were both back in the city for a date night. Ivan was supposed to sleep over at our house that night anyway.

So I agreed to pick them up with the caveat that Ivan could no longer sleep over. It seemed only appropriate under the circumstances. I picked both of them up and lectured them about the dangers of drinking from “strangers'” bottle (e.g., COVID, other germs, drugs, etc.).

Hawk’s response, “C’mon Mom. It’s no big deal. We didn’t know that there was any alcohol in the bottle. Besides, everyone does it.” Yeah right, I thought to myself.

Ivan actually apologized and seemed contrite.

When I dropped him off at his house, I tried to give him a gentle yet firm pep talk about deserving to make healthy choices and believing that he and Hawk needed to act more responsibly in order to become successful.

The talk seemed to work and both he and Hawk seemed appreciative. Ivan’s mom even texted me later to say, “Whatever you said to Ivan really had an impact. He seems to have a lot of remorse for making the bad decision at the game.”

So although they were both very bummed that there was not a sleepover, and it was only 9 p.m. on a Friday night, they both appeared to be accepting of the boring outcome. A low-key Friday night at home with parents.

Until at 3:30 a.m. when I woke up to find that Hawk wasn’t in his bed. Or in the bathroom, or in any other part of our house.

Please read tomorrow to find out where I found Hawk. To read previous stories about Hawk and our adventures, check out Today He Got On The Bus.

Today He Didn’t Get Off the Bus

Although Hawk successfully got on the bus on time today, he didn’t walk through the front door like he normally does at the end of the school day. By normal, I mean in comparison to previous years. Because this year, at the age of 15, he’s trending towards either texting me to say, “Hey Mom, is it okay if I go to my friend’s house after school today?” to evolving into no text at all.

Probably in part my own fault because I lean strongly towards being a helicopter mom. Yes, my BFF during this era of “teendom” is, you guessed it, Life360.

Some free-range parents may consider the GPS tracking app to be stalking or “an infringement of privacy.” However, when you are informed enough to know that your ADHD child is already thirty percent behind his peers from a maturity standpoint, it’s your go-to for attempting to keep your child safe and, well, alive.

GPS tracking apps like Life360 can be a saving grace for parents or can drive a deeper wedge into your parent/child relationship. Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Anywho, when Hawk didn’t appear, I clicked on the app to get a snapshot of where he was. In this instance, he was at a different location than usual. So, I texted him and asked him where he was. His response? “I’m at a friend’s house.”

“Which friend?” I asked.

“Why does it matter?” he responded.

“Because you know the rule, Hawk. No catching rides with friends I don’t know. And no hanging out at ‘friend’s’ houses if we don’t know the parents or if we don’t know if there is an adult present.”

He said, “Okay, I’m at Mario’s.”

My heart sunk and probably skipped several beats. “Not Mario’s house!” I thought to myself.

Although I never met Mario, I knew OF Mario.

One of Hawk’s best friend’s moms, whom I had recently befriended, warned me of a group of kids that she and her husband were trying to keep their son, Ivan, away from.

The reason? These kids were bad influences. Mario and his girlfriend were drug dealers. Or, in 2022 terminology, “plugs.”

If you don’t know what a “plug” is, you probably don’t have tween or teen kids and you surely don’t know about all the devious dealings going on within social media apps like Snapchat, Instagram, and TikTok.

“Plugs” are drug dealers. More sophisticated than in previous generations because Big Tech continues to dig their heels in by refusing to administer controls that protect children from being victimized online.

So, upon hearing that Hawk was hanging out at Mario’s house, I implored him to come home. But he ghosted me. Radio silence.

I immediately texted Hawk’s friend’s Ivan’s mom, Meghan and asked her if Mario was one of the kids that she had warned me about.

She said, “Yes.” and “Do you know if Ivan and Hawk are together?”

I responded, “I’m not sure.”

She said, “Well, I’m going to drive over to Mario’s house now to see if Ivan is there because he is FORBIDDEN from hanging out with him.”

A few minutes later she texted me, “Is Jake’s (Hawk and Ivan’s other close friend) car an old green Volkswagen Jetta?”

I said, “Yes!” Her response, “Okay. Well it’s here outside of Mario’s house. I’m going to text Ivan and ask him to look for something in Jake’s car to see if he comes out.”

A moment later she texted me, “Ivan just came out of Mario’s house. Hawk is with him. BUSTED!!!!”

Upon reading her text, I called Hawk. He didn’t pick up so I texted him, “If you don’t pick up the phone right now, I’m driving to Mario’s house to pick you up.”

My message worked. He actually called me back. When I answered he said, “Mom! What is the problem? Why are you being so weird? I’m just hanging out at my friend’s house!”

My response, “The reason I’m acting so ‘weird’ is because you know the rules. Yet you continue to ignore them. I’ve never met Mario. But I’ve heard about him and I know that his mom isn’t there. You KNOW the rules about hanging out at friend’s houses without an adult. It’s not allowed.”

Hawk responded, “Why do you always have to be such a bitch, Mom?”

Yes, you read that correctly. Yes, it is extremely disrespectful. I do not condone swearing. And I certainly don’t condone swearing to adults and authority figures.

But know this: if you’re not familiar with neurodivergent brains or brains that are wired differently like ADHD teens, then you don’t know that they cannot control their impulse to not curse when upset or challenged. This is especially true if your child is unmedicated or the medication isn’t quite right.

They are (usually) not trying to be extremely disrespectful. They simply cannot control the impulse connecting their thoughts to their mouth.

How does one know if a teen is truly a disrespectful delinquent or just not in control of their prefrontal cortex like most neurotypical peers? The latter will usually come back to you within an hour or perhaps more or less to apologize and explain.

Thankfully, even though it was hard to realize it in the moment, Hawk apologized to me when he arrived home about 30 minutes later. His friend Jake drove him home as soon as Ivan’s mom busted them at Mario’s house.

The reason I didn’t completely freak out and drive over to Mario’s to pick up Hawk? Ivan’s mom assured me that they were sober. She confronted them outside of Mario’s house and texted me to assure me that it was okay.

When he walked through the door, to be quite honest, I don’t even really recall specifically whether we continued to argue. The reason: the last nine months have been so full of chaos and unpredictability when related to Hawk that it’s hard for me to recollect many details from most days.

Minutes blend into hours which meld into days. So many memories from the last few months are intermingled and mixed up.

This is the norm in most people’s lives. But when you live with and parent a child with ADHD, the memories tend to end up like pasta letters in alphabet soup. Sometimes deliciously delightful. Sometimes scalding and searing. Definitely a hot mess. Never boring.

To find out what happens on the next day, check back tomorrow for the latest.

Today He Got On The Bus

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.

Getting up on time for school is hard for any teen, but for ADHD kids who haven’t figured out how to self-regulate and structure time, it’s a completely different ballgame. Photo courtesy of Cleyton Ewerton and Pixels.

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!

Photo courtesy Fandango, “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” Posters & Photos. https://www.fandango.com/ferrisbuellersdayoff1986_28124/moviephotosposters?photoid=31816

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.