I am not sure how to talk/write about medication when it comes to my kids. It is not because I am embarrassed, ashamed, or not confidant in our decision. I really think its because you want to protect your child from an already cruel and judging world. I do not want you to see medication before seeing my child. Or even have thoughts "must be a day they need to up the meds..." Medication and mental illness do NOT define our children or our family. We are the Tanners, we stand firm in our solid foundation in Jesus, and this is our journey, not our identity. Therefor, medication and the topic of diagnosis is a touchy one. One we desperately need to shine the light on, but also one you have to be so cautious with. Each word I ever write is prayed over, He gives me permission and releases things I didn't even know could exist.
I do know I have yet to meet a parent that is excited and happy to put their child on any type of stimulant, anxiety pill, or antidepressants. There are not happy dances and praise hands the day your doctor says "its time." No. There are fears, and sadness...there is concern and the unknown of the future can leave you frozen unable to put one foot in front of the other....
There is also thankfulness, yes. Hopefulness, yes. Even relief, sweet relief...but happy, joyful, excitement? No, not terms I hear from parents that are walking this very hard and challenging road. People ask when we knew it was time for medication, my response is always the same "You just know..." it is really that simple. Every other thing fails you and you are left so desperate and so low you are not sure which way is up...its in that moment you can't wait another day. Relief is desperate. You are screaming for anything to help you and your child. You see them drifting and somehow someway today is worst then yesterday which was worst then the day before.
You find yourself googling, looking for anything that could possibly help. You feel like the most contradicting inconsistent parent on the planet. What worked yesterday made things worse today. You try hard not to stir up any battles or wake the sleeping anger that lays beneath your sons sweet demeanor. So eggshells is your life, you walk lightly, talk sweetly, take so many deep breaths you feel light headed. You find yourself losing your cool on every other child and living creature that crosses you wrong. Your exhaustion is beyond anything you could type on a blog. You look like a parent who doesn't discipline because you put up with attitude and sharp comments and big fat "NOs!" and its not because you agree with the behavior, its because you know where and what it could do. Desperation is probably not even the right word.
You find yourself crying to anyone who will give you a moment to speak, you find yourself sobbing into the phone leaving your dad a message of total brokenness. You are unsure how you will face tomorrow or if tomorrow can even be faced. You are lost. You have prayed the name of Jesus in every room of the house, anointed with oil, crawled to the foot of his bed while he sleeps and make your desperate pleads to the One who Knows all and is All. And yet....silence. The next day is worst then the day before and it feels as though your prayers just made everything worse.
You finally hit the roof after weeks of walking on eggshells and all your pent up anger comes rolling out of you like Niagara Falls and there is nothing to stop it. And 5 min later when your voice is horse from all the yelling you are broken once again because you feel like you just lost everything you had maybe gained. You are done. And you see the brokenness on his face. How did it get to this place?
You know....You go to the doctors with your beloved son and you lay it all out. You are done, he is done, we are done, everyone is done. By golly, the dogs are done. You know... It is time. And although there is no happy dance there is hope.
One week later post "vitamins" which is what these medications are referred to in this home, you see glimpses of your son. You see a smile return, a skip to his walk, a sweet hug and a kind word...oh my heavens, then the happy dance starts. Your heart could leap...
Two weeks later and there are no broken pencils, no thrown objects, there is a calmness and peacefulness that returns to your home...Oh Jesus. Thank you.
One month later. I have no words. We are thankful for the reprieve and although we know in two months we might be back to the drawing board with a growing and changing boy we know that medication is needed in this family. We see the change. And when the doctor asks how it is going and he says "I feel better..." you want to squeal and hug every single person in that doctors office. All of the sudden the dark, scary, awful, medication becomes the light, answers, peace, joy, thankful medication...
Now it is just a part of the day. No one even blinks an eye. .3 seconds it takes to take and our world aligns and peace come.
See, desperation always brings us to solutions and cry for help. If I didn't experience the desperation I wouldn't of been willing to go this route, and Jesus knew we needed this medication...he needed this medication, but we had to walk the dark and scary road to see those things.
I don't know where you are on in your journey. But you are not alone. Coming to the decision to put your child on medication is one of the hardest and scariest path a parent has to walk...see its brokenness in this world and its not suppose to be this way. Neither is cancer, or disease...but we live in a broken fallen world desperate for Jesus. Desperation broke us, and in that brokenness we were able to find the healing we all needed.
If you are a parent who has never had to face this journey with your child, I am thankful, this community of parents who are facing it would never wish this for anyone. No one. Be thankful, but be sensitive, be quiet, we don't need words or answers we need prayers and grace. Don't be quick to judge that parent with a child who is out of control in the middle of Walmart...you don't know what their journey is or what they are facing that day.
I know now, but it took desperation and brokenness to know it.
But Jesus, getting glory.
You find yourself googling, looking for anything that could possibly help. You feel like the most contradicting inconsistent parent on the planet. What worked yesterday made things worse today. You try hard not to stir up any battles or wake the sleeping anger that lays beneath your sons sweet demeanor. So eggshells is your life, you walk lightly, talk sweetly, take so many deep breaths you feel light headed. You find yourself losing your cool on every other child and living creature that crosses you wrong. Your exhaustion is beyond anything you could type on a blog. You look like a parent who doesn't discipline because you put up with attitude and sharp comments and big fat "NOs!" and its not because you agree with the behavior, its because you know where and what it could do. Desperation is probably not even the right word.
You find yourself crying to anyone who will give you a moment to speak, you find yourself sobbing into the phone leaving your dad a message of total brokenness. You are unsure how you will face tomorrow or if tomorrow can even be faced. You are lost. You have prayed the name of Jesus in every room of the house, anointed with oil, crawled to the foot of his bed while he sleeps and make your desperate pleads to the One who Knows all and is All. And yet....silence. The next day is worst then the day before and it feels as though your prayers just made everything worse.
You finally hit the roof after weeks of walking on eggshells and all your pent up anger comes rolling out of you like Niagara Falls and there is nothing to stop it. And 5 min later when your voice is horse from all the yelling you are broken once again because you feel like you just lost everything you had maybe gained. You are done. And you see the brokenness on his face. How did it get to this place?
You know....You go to the doctors with your beloved son and you lay it all out. You are done, he is done, we are done, everyone is done. By golly, the dogs are done. You know... It is time. And although there is no happy dance there is hope.
One week later post "vitamins" which is what these medications are referred to in this home, you see glimpses of your son. You see a smile return, a skip to his walk, a sweet hug and a kind word...oh my heavens, then the happy dance starts. Your heart could leap...
Two weeks later and there are no broken pencils, no thrown objects, there is a calmness and peacefulness that returns to your home...Oh Jesus. Thank you.
One month later. I have no words. We are thankful for the reprieve and although we know in two months we might be back to the drawing board with a growing and changing boy we know that medication is needed in this family. We see the change. And when the doctor asks how it is going and he says "I feel better..." you want to squeal and hug every single person in that doctors office. All of the sudden the dark, scary, awful, medication becomes the light, answers, peace, joy, thankful medication...
Now it is just a part of the day. No one even blinks an eye. .3 seconds it takes to take and our world aligns and peace come.
See, desperation always brings us to solutions and cry for help. If I didn't experience the desperation I wouldn't of been willing to go this route, and Jesus knew we needed this medication...he needed this medication, but we had to walk the dark and scary road to see those things.
I don't know where you are on in your journey. But you are not alone. Coming to the decision to put your child on medication is one of the hardest and scariest path a parent has to walk...see its brokenness in this world and its not suppose to be this way. Neither is cancer, or disease...but we live in a broken fallen world desperate for Jesus. Desperation broke us, and in that brokenness we were able to find the healing we all needed.
If you are a parent who has never had to face this journey with your child, I am thankful, this community of parents who are facing it would never wish this for anyone. No one. Be thankful, but be sensitive, be quiet, we don't need words or answers we need prayers and grace. Don't be quick to judge that parent with a child who is out of control in the middle of Walmart...you don't know what their journey is or what they are facing that day.
I know now, but it took desperation and brokenness to know it.
But Jesus, getting glory.
1 comment:
You're amazing . It's not easy to realize that sometimes the brain needs medication too. I began taking a medication at sixteen and it continues to save me.
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