Parenting children with significant needs can often feel lonely for both the kids and their parents. This reality is particularly clear when we observe children with physical disabilities or illnesses. Time spent in hospitals translates to missed school days, playdates, and outings, which can weaken the bonds of friendship. While sympathy and casseroles are often offered in such scenarios, the same support is not always extended to those battling invisible disabilities, especially when mental health is involved. It’s disheartening to note that suicide has become the second leading cause of death for children aged 10-14 in the U.S., a statistic that surpasses even cancer. My son is one of those who grapples with a mental health condition, and while I have a mountain of documentation to back that up, what matters most is this:
When he was just three, he began mentioning a boy named The Other Alex. Initially, we thought it was a typical imaginary friend, but it quickly became evident that when The Other Alex was present, my son was absent. As his condition worsened, he experienced his first psychotic episode at school before he turned seven. I will never erase the memory of the guidance counselor calling to get permission to transport him to the hospital, nor the moments when even more troubling voices emerged alongside the first.
Mental illness, particularly in children, is challenging to define and measure. I can’t pinpoint where my son stands compared to his peers. But here are some numbers that tell part of our story:
- 7 schools by the eighth grade, with 4 being full-time special education placements
- 4 inpatient stays in pediatric psychiatric facilities by age twelve
- 5 evaluations seeking answers
- 5 different medications, plus multiple doses administered throughout the day
- Numerous calls to law enforcement and a CPS investigation
- Multiple jobs lost due to the need for full-time care
While these figures may seem grim, they don’t define who my son is; he is an individual, my child, and I see far more than just his struggles.
Raising children requires community support, and for me, the definition of community has shifted. No longer is it about casual coffee chats with other moms from PTA meetings; it’s about assembling a team ready to face life’s messy challenges. My support network now includes:
- 6 outpatient therapists
- 3 social workers
- 2 pediatricians
- 3 psychiatrists
- 2 school resource officers
- 2 crisis support teams
- An array of dedicated teachers and aides
- Healthcare case managers
- Emergency responders and spiritual advisors
I am incredibly thankful for the team we’ve built around my son. They help alleviate the isolation and ensure my children’s safety. Though I wouldn’t have chosen this path, I am grateful for the lessons that parenting my son has imparted. His resilience inspires me daily.
I may have never learned how to advocate for children facing hardship without my son’s journey. I also would not have gained insights into childhood trauma, its effects on the brain, or the relentless fight required to secure the necessary treatment. Understanding the economic challenges families face, the critical need for Medicaid, and the maze of the healthcare system has empowered me to keep going.
Now, my mission is to share the knowledge I have gained, so others may benefit from what I’ve learned through these challenging circumstances. For more insights and support, check out this post on Home Insemination Kit and explore resources on childhood mental health. If you’re seeking guidance on conditions like these, WebMD provides excellent information.
Summary
Parenting a child with mental health challenges has reshaped my support network from casual interactions to a robust team of professionals and loved ones who provide essential help. I’ve learned invaluable lessons about resilience, advocacy, and the importance of community support. My mission is to share these insights with others navigating similar paths.