Sunday, August 5, 2012

Rollerblading or Coming Back to Life


Sparrow,

I’m feeling better after my “lame” rollerblading accident.  My ego, on the other hand, is still bruised and needs more time to heal, but that’s another issue!  Like a good girl, I spent the week recovering, “milking it” as you suggested and, while I didn’t do much in the way of writing, I did do a lot of thinking.  In a roundabout way, Sparrow, I did a lot of thinking inspired by rollerblading and, even though you’re so far away, by you…

You sent me an email recently in which you wrote, “Holy Cow, you went rollerblading with Fledgling!” I know, I know, anyone reading this must be wondering what the big deal is; kids rollerblade all the time. You, however, know otherwise. You know my kid.  You know something about her that only a handful of my closest friends and family know and, now (sorry fledgling), anyone following this blog:

My kid is clinically depressed

 Fighting depression has been a way of life for this family since my youngest was around 6 or 7 (and, really, it’s a condition that holds this family unit, as well as extended family, in a tight and vicious grip).  Fledgling is only 12 and depression defines huge chunks of her life. When  I say depressed, it would be underestimating her condition to think that what I mean is Fledgling  is sad because she doesn’t feel pretty, because a friend was mean to her or a pet died, though any of us with teens know these are valid reasons to feel “blue”.  What I’m talking about in this case is a severe and debilitating depression. It’s a condition that has, at points in her life, taken away my child’s ability to function in her own day to day life.  At these times, she shuts herself up in her room and loses all interest in food, hobbies, school.  God forbid she be touched, spoken to, asked to participate.

While I don’t advocate medication in all cases or for all people, our family, as a family, and along with a pediatrician, a psychologist and psychiatrist, recently decided that anti-depressants would be an appropriate route for our daughter. Without exaggeration, we were losing this child and this child was losing herself. She desperately needed a break from the nightmare happening inside of her own brain, and we hoped that medication, along with the appropriate talk-based therapies, would give her the relief she desperately needed.

This isn’t to say, however, that medication was an easy choice and I don’t think it should be. Medications are powerful tools that, when used properly and appropriately, can be a lifeline to so many people but I HAVE to recommend research, research and more research. If you’re turning to medications do you know if they’ve been tested on children? Do you know ALL the negative consequences of a specific medication and the class of drug? Has your child had a thorough psychological/psychiatric/medical evaluation?  Drug therapy is a powerful tool but it can also prove to have adverse effects-in some instances even coming up as a possible link to suicidal tendencies in children, the exact thing you were trying to avoid (http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/antidepressants/MH00059).

When it was obvious, to all around her, that my kid was again deep in the throes of depression, it still took us months to not only get a prescription for anti-depressants, but also to be sure that we, as a family, were ready to give them to her.  In the end, after all of my careful research and discussions with the medical professionals in her life, we came to the conclusion that not medicating this child could have serious ramifications; we could lose her, literally.

Now, my kid is rollerblading.

This week, Fledgling swam. We had conversations. She baked brownies, and ate them. After my lame brained rollerblading accident, she offered sympathy, and, last week, she hugged me.

She hugged me.

You, of all people, Sparrow, know that while these things may seem minor, insignificant, even, they are HUGE. They are the signs of a child coming back to the land of childhood and I happily share this post with you because you, too, had to stand by and watch her go through this. I’m including this quote by Helen Claes because not only does it apply to my Fledgling, but to both my daughters, and your children as well:


What I wanted most for my daughter was that she be able to soar confidently in her own sky, whatever that may be.

Love always, a grateful, grateful, “well-hugged”, Red Bird

2 comments:

  1. Ah, the medication debate. As I'm sat here reading your post, I'm fully medicated, it's allergy season and without the medication I am in an unpleasant fog. With the medication I am also in a fog. Being petite, medications tend to overwhelm me and I feel drowsy and spaced out, that warm fuzzy feeling when you've had a little bit to much to drink and you can't stop smiling. One fog leaves me exhausted and unhappy, the other, well I'm sat here with a goofy smile on my face. It's a no brainer, why suffer when you don't have to. That's why, no matter where you go, you'll always find a pharmacy, even if it's one shelf in the nearest petrol station. Funny how we so readily self medicate but have such a difficult time when it comes to children and mental health. The outcome is the same, to offer some relief so healing can begin.
    This morning my husband asked our boy which destination so far on our journey he would want to live in. Instead of silence or an instant "I don't know", he was thinking, you could see it on his face. He isn't usually able to answer questions like that. The question is too vague and he can't form an opinion on something without all the variables defined. We waited patiently giving him time to process the question and in that moment my heart soared, I kept thinking "Oh my god, he's going to answer, he's actually going to answer". These minor insignificant things as you said are huge to us and were made possible with medication. It opens up a door for them. I'm brimming with joy that Maggie ate a brownie and you were hugged. I can't express enough how happy your post made me. An amazing leap forward for you both.
    Always yours
    Sparrow

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  2. Sparrow, this was a similar reaction another friend had after reading the posting. I immediately got a text after this went up with her exclamation of "OH MY GOD SHE HUGGED YOU". It goes to show what a night and day difference the medication made in our lives, and Fledgling's in particular, that my nearest and dearest can be so moved by something as seemingly simple as a hug!

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