Hello All

My 15 year old son was just diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Before reading many of your posts and educating myself on this disorder I felt alone and near hopeless. My son is a very bright, social, active and musically talented child. If you met him on a good day, you would think him a normal, well adjusted, polite young man. On a bad day, most would  think him a spoiled, violent, arrogant, selfish, dangerous and manipulative brat. As an infant and toddler, he sought constant stimulation. He rarely napped and cried, screamed and tantrummed frequently. But he he was very bright and engaging. I tried consequences and positive reinforcement as discipline but nether worked. The consequences led to bigger, longer and higher intensity tantrums and the rewards had to be bigger, better and more frequent for every incident--or else. He went through about 5 pre-schools between  1 1/2 years old and 5. He had an odd aversion to coloring and challenged every adult who care for him. The best option ended up being a Montessori pre-school where he could choose his own activities. Toilet training was near impossible. In the crib he had to have a tent zipped over him or he would dive out. Once in the toddler bed, there was no keeping him in his room at bed time. I was advised to put a latch on the door and lock him in. I can't tell you how terrifying it is to hear your toddler scream, punch, kick, hurl things, and bang his head against the walls, while you hover outside his door. And he won't stop until you open the door. I couldn't do it. I was convinced he'd end up dead or seriously injured.

In kindergarten, he couldn't sit still, talked continuously, and had several physical incidents with one other child. Yet the teacher adored him. He had a near perfect score on his standardized tests. He began playing piano and excelled. At home, the word "no" never worked. He was brilliant yet he couldn't remember to turn out a light or brush his teeth. He was always thinking 10 steps ahead of where he was. With piano, reading and any prolonged task he became easily frustrated--turning red, overheating, and cycling between physical rage and deep self loathing and would punch himself in the head or face.

Throughout grammer school, he glided through with little academic effort. Seen as gifted. Yet he talked continuousely, couldn't sit still without disturbing someone and occasionally hit or kicked another student. Still the teachers adored him! At home he would rage if told "no", agonized over homework and studying, and could not find joy in normal play activities. He was bossy toward friends, destroyed a warehouse of video game controllers and learning to ride a bike and skateboard became "all or nothing" endeavors. Immediate perfection or self destruction. He played baseball and soccer. He excelled in soccer but couldn't cope with going to practice and getting ready for a game. When he was at his best on the field, he was at his worst at home. Curled up in a ball crying one minute and raging the next. I was always torn between forcing him to maintain consistency in an activity to keep him away from countless hours of video games, and letting him quit because of the unbearable pain he seemed to be in.  I could never be sure if his "episodes" were real or manipulative.Yet, all his friend's parents adored him, his friends loved him, he performed classical piano as far away as China, and maintained straight "A's" in school. He had this complete other side to him.

Then came middle school and puberty. Homework and studying brought with them increasingly higher intensity periods of rage. He became a human tornado. He would be happy and funny one minute--then suddenly dark. He had no ability to self soothe. Even if I provided an immediate solution to the problem he would scream at me, insult me, swear at me, and hurl every item not nailed down in his path. Holes in walls, doors ripped from hinges--mass destruction. Then he would collapse, cry, express deep remorse, and pass out. When he awoke he had little or no memory of the event. He was oddly disturbed by odors I could not detect. He became obsessed with his hair every morning--angry if it wasn't just right. Never a morning person--middle school brought with it an earlier start time and the morning waking ritual was a highly calculated and syncronized process for me to ensure he made the bus. If he didn't he would rage even though I could easily drive him there. He had always complained of stomach aches and headaches but testing revealed nothing. In this phase, he refused breakfast nearly every morning. Without protein, he was a time bomb.

If he had 6 teachers each marking period, 5 loved him and one thought him the devil. The detentions and suspensions began. He became increasingly disrespectful to certain teachers and felt superior to them. He was smart and occasionally proved them wrong on certain matters. He was brutally made fun off by a number of classmates and called "crazy" and "bipolar" by them. He would be randomly punched in the hallway. Yet he refused to "rat anyone out" and when he would snap at another child violently because of a history of verbal torture he refused to be deemed a victim. The shame  he felt was so imensely humiliating. He knew he had little control over his emotions and outbursts. Yet he'd rather go down fighting than admit he needed help. this made him appear cold, tough and oppositional. Yet with his guard down he was lost and desparate for an answer.

As a parent, I was virtually paralyzed. I was a bright, successful and stable person. My son had never been abused. I ensured he had a good education, a stable home, all the material items his peer group had, nice vacations, encouraged him in all his activities and tried hard to convince him that I loved him no matter what. Failure to get A's, perform perfect piano pieces and complete flawless skate boarding tricks would not disappoint me. I started wishing he was just average or bad at things. The pressure he put on himself to succeed was killing him. He became increasingly violent at school. The rage episodes at home also increased. Then he would have periods of complete normalcy. It  was as if he were two different people and I rode through his good periods with the hope that it had all passed.

But in the end it hadn't. I questioned everything I did throughout his life. Other family members were viciously critical of everything I did from discipline to treatment. In 7th grade I took him to a psychiatrist and he was diagnosed with Intermittant Explosive Disorder and put on trileptal. The first day he went to school on it he became confused and dizzy. He hated it. Then prosac was added. Counseling proved fruitless. He completely shut down. The mere mention of his behavior caused anxiety and escalation. Therapy=stress. Crisis hospitalizations followed. His combativeness led to restraints. I watched as he hit, kicked and verbally harassed police, security and hospital staff and as they fought back. I couldn't believe this was my little boy. And the sorrow and shame and remorse and helplessness and hopelessnees oozing from him as he layed bruised and strapped down to a cot with thorazine and haldol altermnately injected into him--and surprisingly having little effect. He could go easily an hour or two after the injections, struggling to free himself  as if if he were fighting for his life.

And yes, I was waging a concurrent battle with the insurance company, treatment providers, family members and trying to keep my job--without which there would be no home, no insurance and no future ability to provide for my son.

A four week stint at a residential when he was 14 was marred by my insurance company approving only 2 days at a time and forcing me to appeal every 3 or 4 days to keep him there.

Somehow I got him back in school and he graduated 8th grade--with honors,  even though he had been home or hospitalized almost continuously from January through May. He had been diagnosed with the following that year--ODD,CD, ADHD, Mood Disorder(NOS), Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Panic Attacks. There was a mention of Borderline Personality Disorder Features. He had been prescribed--Trileptal, Depakote, Prozac, Busbar, Risperdal, Concerta, Vyvanse, Seraquel, Klonipin and Xanax. Then there was the thorazine, haldol, ativan and geodan he was given when restrained.

He trusted me and thought I could make him better. He wanted to believe that every psychiatrist he encountered had figured it out and that "this time" the medication would work. But after so many failed treatment attempts and medications changes, he could no longer believe that any of the adults in his life could help him. We were no longer seen as a safe and secure support for him. He lost faith and I couldn't blame him. We are the adults and no matter how old you are or independent you think you are, you still look to us to "make it all better".

He applied and got accepted to a local private school and began Freshman year there. He made it through his first marking period with straight high A's in all honors courses and not one disciplinary glitch. His teachers saw him as a friendly, funny, outgoing, bright child with an enormaously promising future. He was asked to play piano for many school events. It seemed like he was on a roll. At home, every morning and evening was a nightmare. Obsessive and compulsve behaviors dominated the mornings. Waking was a disaster. Eatting more of a struggle. As soon as he was off the bus the anxiety hit. Homework consisted of him either overly focused or on the verge of a breakdown. Then we were back in crisis. After a switch back to his public school the academic pressure dropped but by the end of his second week, he was taken by police to crisis because he cut the lunch line, and when confronted by a teacher exploded hurling books and banging his head against the wall. He demanded to go back to class because he was missing notes for a test and then would fail and not go to college. The school had never seen anything like this. Four similar episodes followed and the day before Christmas break my son was facing expulsion and assault charges. But for the fact that I had requested and a Child Study Team Eval in 8th grade(which was ridiculously delayed and during which I just didn't have the strength to fight that battle as well), he would have been facing consequences that were not justified given the severity of his mental health issues.

Which brings me to the present. A new psychiatrist. Lithium. A Child Study Eval in the works. And a greater understanding of what had been building inside my son and the imense suffering he has endured for most of his young life.

And ending with a huge THANK YOU to all who have taken the time to share your experiences here, which has made made my fight to heal my son so much more bearable.