Not everything is a "disorder", except when it is

I grew up in a very conservative, Catholic household. Where nothing was wrong with you, particularly when it came to mental health. If there was no blood, you were essentially "ok". It's just how it was. After my stint in the military, I decided that I was going to do something different. That I HAD to do something different; for me and my family.

The point of this is to write everything, and get it all out, so here I go:

When I got pregnant the first time, it was unexpected and I was terrified (see above C&C family). Unfortunately, it ended in tragedy and I didn't handle it well (another story for another time). I was spiraling and didn't know how to handle and process everything. After several months, I was finally referred to therapy. It wasn't great and I stopped going, thinking I could handle it on my own. I could not.

Once I got home and I saw what was happening to my fellow Marines and Sailors, I decided, if someone in those situations, with those issues got REAL help, it could do wonders. So, I began to do research and enrolled in school. My end goal was to help the veteran suicide crisis; 22 a day. Another story for another time, because, actually, this entry isn't even about me and my mental health journey; it's about my kids' and theirs and how I learned to cope with what THEY needed.

When my son was young, like 3 and a half, 4, I began to notice something. I was a stay at home mom at the time and I spent all my time with him and my infant. The way he acted and was constantly on the move was odd to me. His inability to focus, yet his hyper fixation was something I couldn't understand. It almost became too much and I felt like such a failure because here I was being told by everyone that his behavior and certain idiosyncrasies were "normal" and he'd grow out of it. I assumed it was some form of high functioning autism.

When he started going to pre school, his teacher, Miss. Anne, told me they had certain ways of dealing with kids with his "issues" and she'd try to work with me and figure out a way to get him to sit and focus, at least during school. The methods they were trying seemed to help, albeit, not entirely.

As he got older, as did his sister (she's in a league of her own), control and order were nearly out of my grasp. I had asked their doctor several times for referrals to a counselor for outside help and was repeatedly told, "It's fine, This is normal", because, of course. After years of being told this and feeling like a failure after reading so many books and talking to other parents, I knew this was different. It wasn't "normal". I stood my ground and, begrudgingly, got my way.

Both older kids began seeing a phycologist a town over who specialized in children and families. Dr. Angela was amazing! It took time, but the tools she gave the kids and my ex and I became immeasurable. The normal methods didn't work with them, as in rewards and charts. They needed more, and we all learned how to utilize different methods. It wasn't perfect, I wasn't expecting it to be, or a miracle, but I was happy to know I wasn't crazy and my kids seemed a little better. By that I mean, they could understand themselves a little more and that seemed to make a difference.

However, because my daughter had more severe behavioral issues, we needed even more help. My oldest was stuck trying to deal with his sister and not get in trouble for retaliating against someone who had her own problems. We were then referred to a psychiatrist.

It continues to be an on going battle with my oldest son; growing up in a broken, but loving and chaotic home I know takes it's toll on someone so young. The battle now is, do I consent to give him meds for his, now, diagnosed ADHD, NOT autism, or do I continue this path of trying support and redirection alone, without the aide of pills for a 10 year old. I am 100% on board with vacations, but I feel life long meds for someone so young may not be the best thing. I don't know, but I do know there are pros and cons to both.

All I can do now is what I've been doing: giving him the love and support he needs and talking to his doctor. The question, I think, now is maybe.... is he old enough to decide on his own if he needs the meds? Or is this a decision his parents need to make for him?