There are people who think loneliness and children with psychiatric illness go hand in hand in a vicious circle--a child's illness causes him to withdraw; his withdrawal causes society to retreat from him even further. There are others who define themselves as introverts and insist they are not "mentally ill," they are "just" introverts. Which came first--the introverted chicken, or the mentally ill egg?

The following was posted on my personal blog on April 30, 2008: I had a dream last night--I was in the kiddie psych ward, down at the end of the unit where the vinyl-covered chairs are, next to the locked closet full of bad toys and puzzles with half their pieces missing. I was waiting for Bob. And here he came, in Spongebob pajamas, walking--not running, skipping, or galloping, as he usually does--toward me. Big smile on his face. Big, happy greeting of "Hi, Mom!" right before he threw his arms around me and crushed his little self into me in a hello hug.

You've struggled through Parts 1 and 2 of the Homework Drama. Now you're wondering--is this just an ongoing saga? Will I be fighting this battle for the rest of my child's educational life? Does it ever end? Good news--it just might.

As I began discussing in last week's post, the challenges of parenting a child with a psychiatric illness aren't limited to just managing the illness. Like any other medical condition, psychiatric illness--even when under control--brings other issues to the party. Among them is homework. In this post, the "three-part-drama" of Homework continues. Part II - The Battle Begins

About a week and a half ago, my son, Bob--who has bipolar disorder and ADHD--was prescribed Loxapine by his psychiatrist. Loxapine was added to his medications in an effort to counter his recent depression symptoms, as well as a concurrent onset of overwhelming paranoia, fear of being alone, nightmares, and sleepwalking.

My name is Angela, and my kid has bipolar disorder and ADHD. Now that I’ve completed the first step, I’d like my coffee and donut, thank you. It’s taken me a long time to get here.

Bob was home this past weekend--for the first time in a month, one of only three he's spent at home since May. It was far from relaxing. His childhood anxiety is in full throttle, and dealing with his constant irrational fear had me looking forward to Monday.

Fall is upon us. The shorter days and less light affects my son's mood. Have you noticed any changes in your child's mood? Or yourself?

Bob’s biological father and I are not together, so my husband and I occasionally find ourselves “Bob-less” when he is spending time with dear ol’ Dad. No thanks to a legal loophole, Bob is away from our home nearly every weekend during the summer break. These Bob-free times are bittersweet for me. I miss him terribly when he’s gone. Because he has bipolar disorder and ADHD, I worry about whether he’s getting enough sleep, or drinking enough water, or being given his medications properly. I worry about what sort of ridiculously dangerous activities he might be taking part in, and how he’s getting along with his father. I wonder if he’s missing us, and while I hope he is, I hope not too much.

“You have to take care of yourself in order to take care of your kids.” We hear it all the time—but do we really listen to it? Reading some of the comments left here, I don’t think so. I admit I am equally guilty. As parents of mentally ill children, we spend plenty of time talking to therapists and psychiatrists, but very little of that talk involves our own mental health. So often, we find ourselves completely embroiled in our children’s mental illness and treatment, we end up neglecting ourselves.