aggravating

Yesterday I took part in an online exchange... you know the kind- the type that makes all the other people who had commented along the way wish they never had piped in because they're then stuck getting the multiple back-and-forth messages that follow.  The impetus was the CNN story Study: ADHD linked to pesticide exposure, and in the comments that followed, people pointed out the many different illnesses and disorders that they believe are linked to pesticides in our food, water, air, and so on.  I don't know enough to comment on this aspect of the discussion, but it all seems pretty logical to me.  However, the part that got me frustrated was when one person felt compelled to make the statement that because there are a myriad of other so much more serious complications, the discussion loses sight of that bigger picture when we frame it around something like ADHD, which this person plaintively referred to as "aggravating" and not "scary" like cancer or physical disabilities.

And that's when I got pissed.

The rest of the exchange included me, most definitely defensively, trying to make the point that it didn't need to be a "this is worse than that" framework to discuss the potential negative effects from pesticide exposure.  And also, the word "aggravating" was certainly annoying, irritating, and bothersome to me.  (These are all synonyms of the the word "aggravating," in case I wasn't being obvious enough.)  Now, don't get me wrong, ADHD certainly is aggravating at times.  It's aggravating from my parental role to have to give 10-20 prompts to stay on task while my son gets ready for school each morning.  It's aggravating when I create charts and organizational systems to assist my son in keeping his home and school responsibilities in order and they go unused.  It's aggravating to hear my son say the words "I forgot" over and over and over again in relation to routines that are a part of his life each and every day.  And I can only imagine that it's really damn aggravating to be the person hearing those repeated prompts and reminders, and yet still not finding the way to change one's own natural behavior.

But here's the thing.  Behind those aggravating experiences are certainly more that can be described as nothing less than "scary."  It was scary to watch my toddler be completely unable to be understood by others when he spoke, and subsequently break down in uncontrollable emotional meltdowns as a result, all because his articulation abilities were in the less than 1 percentile compared to typical development.  (ADHD is very often accompanied by significant language development delays.)  It was, in fact, scary to watch my preschooler become so enraged at clean-up time at school that he had to be physically removed from the classroom, all the while screaming "I hate you!" at the top of his lungs.  (Difficulty shifting, or "switching gears," is just one executive functioning issue that is present with ADHD, along with deficiencies in emotional self-regulation.)  It can be scary to watch my school-aged son stand out from his crowd of peers at school events held in the evenings, wondering how he is viewed by his peers and the other adults in his life.  (His medication is completely out of his system by early evening, causing what is known as a "rebound effect.")  And scariest still, at least to this anxiety-prone mother, is the practice I assume is well-known among parents- envisioning the future.  I worry what the soon approaching adolescent years will bring for my child with ADHD, when inattention, hyperactivity and impulsivity can certainly have more significant impacts on his life than just missing a question on a test, bouncing in his seat at school, or having trouble waiting his turn in a game.  Scary is your son being even more distracted than most teens when first driving a car, or experiencing such a constant restlessness that already underdeveloped decision-making abilities are compromised, or literally not thinking before engaging in risky physical or sexual behavior that could have life-long effects on his health and safety.  And that's just thinking about the next few years, and not even addressing what his adulthood experience with ADHD will be, or how it will affect his ability to function in personal relationships or work environments, or how he will learn to manage the adult responsibilities that accompany a responsible lifestyle.

Yes, I am thankful that my child is not afflicted with an incurable and immediately life-threatening disease such as cancer, and that he is not impaired by any physical disabilities that make daily life challenging in ways that I cannot even imagine.  I am also thankful that I don't live in a country ruled by dictatorship, but that doesn't mean that I don't acknowledge problems with the government that we do have.  Perhaps it's a poorly presented metaphor, but I can't help but feel that by virtue of making a this-or-that comparison between ADHD and cancer, and labeling one as merely "aggravating" while the other is deemed truly "scary," there's an implication of dismissal of the concerns anyone may have toward ADHD.

That's at the heart of my own aggravation.  In a society that already carries a hugely dismissive attitude toward ADHD specifically, and truly toward many mental illnesses in general, I do find it problematic when statements like the one made during this exchange only contribute to the already existing public bias that questions the validity of this disorder.  This disorder is real, trust me.  And if you don't trust me, come and observe a day in the life where distractibility,  hyperactivity, forgetfulness, impulsivity, and a diminished level of emotional self-control affects an individual, and ultimately a whole family.  Or, hit your library shelves and check out We've Got Issues: Children and Parents in the Age of Medication by Judith Warner, Driven to Distraction: Recognizing and Coping with Attention Deficit Disorder from Childhood through Adulthood by Edward Hallowell, M.D. and John Ratey, M.D., or Attention Deficit Disorder: The Unfocused Mind in Children and Adults by Thomas Brown, PhD, just three quality books that present research and commentary on this disorder.

I guess at the end of all of this, I just want to leave any potential reader of this clearly emotional rant, with this last thought:  Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder is so much more than aggravating.


Stepping down from my soapbox (even though I do find it a comfortable place to sometimes be),