G is 8-years-old, and I have to remind myself, when he is being a pain-in-the-tail, teasing, annoying, talking about poop every 29.5 seconds kid, that medication will not change that. Sometimes it is hard to tell how much of a kid's weirdness is actual, potentially diagnosable problematic weirdness and how much is just being a kid.
I sat with a class of 8-year-olds at a theater performance today. It was a nice reminder that all second graders, and not just my kid, 1. can't sit still for long, 2. talk very loudly about all manner of random sh*t, and 3. look like ragamuffins.
We are at 2 weeks of Celexa use for G's actual, diagnosable weirdness. So far, so good.
What I noticed almost immediately after beginning it is that he started falling asleep without his verbal repetitive loop of worry, even when he doesn't take melatonin. He began the medication on a Monday. On the following Friday and Saturday nights, he fell straight to sleep and didn't wake during either night. He has stopped freaking out over every single thing. If something gets moved, he expresses his displeasure, but he just says it. He doesn't scream it or cry or otherwise throw a tantrum.
I have noticed that he is saying, "I love you" more to me than he has in a very long time, which makes me wonder if he was just so busy trying to contain worry that he couldn't bother with affection and communication. That makes me sad. And it also makes me very glad we took the steps we did.
I wish I could say that I am without worry over him, but I can't. He has had a runny nose, so my mind immediately went to, "He is allergic to the medication," although nasal drippage is not a side effect I can find anywhere in the literature.
He threw a gigantic fit the first night we gave him the medication, which had me convinced that he would end up homeless, schizophrenic and suicidal, and that worst-case scenario remains at the back of my mind. I think he thought he would take the medicine and wake up a different person. He kept asking, "Will I still be me?" He and I are now taking our "brain" medication together every morning, which I think helps him, as did the realization the next morning that he was the same.
He got a haircut today and didn't cry afterwards, which had started happening with great regularity and led me to start whacking at his hair myself to avoid an actual salon. He would have preferred to leave it longer, in his eyes and untouched by the stylist, but he was ok.
I don't want perfect or spectacular or amazing. I'm thankful that my kid, for right now, is doing ok.
I sat with a class of 8-year-olds at a theater performance today. It was a nice reminder that all second graders, and not just my kid, 1. can't sit still for long, 2. talk very loudly about all manner of random sh*t, and 3. look like ragamuffins.
We are at 2 weeks of Celexa use for G's actual, diagnosable weirdness. So far, so good.
What I noticed almost immediately after beginning it is that he started falling asleep without his verbal repetitive loop of worry, even when he doesn't take melatonin. He began the medication on a Monday. On the following Friday and Saturday nights, he fell straight to sleep and didn't wake during either night. He has stopped freaking out over every single thing. If something gets moved, he expresses his displeasure, but he just says it. He doesn't scream it or cry or otherwise throw a tantrum.
I have noticed that he is saying, "I love you" more to me than he has in a very long time, which makes me wonder if he was just so busy trying to contain worry that he couldn't bother with affection and communication. That makes me sad. And it also makes me very glad we took the steps we did.
I wish I could say that I am without worry over him, but I can't. He has had a runny nose, so my mind immediately went to, "He is allergic to the medication," although nasal drippage is not a side effect I can find anywhere in the literature.
He threw a gigantic fit the first night we gave him the medication, which had me convinced that he would end up homeless, schizophrenic and suicidal, and that worst-case scenario remains at the back of my mind. I think he thought he would take the medicine and wake up a different person. He kept asking, "Will I still be me?" He and I are now taking our "brain" medication together every morning, which I think helps him, as did the realization the next morning that he was the same.
He got a haircut today and didn't cry afterwards, which had started happening with great regularity and led me to start whacking at his hair myself to avoid an actual salon. He would have preferred to leave it longer, in his eyes and untouched by the stylist, but he was ok.
I don't want perfect or spectacular or amazing. I'm thankful that my kid, for right now, is doing ok.
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