The Medicated Menstrating Teen

Oh the teenage years! Have kids they say! It will bring such joy to your life. Don’t get me wrong. I love my children. However, I wish someone (because my mother was not a role model and did not explicitly tell me the good bad and ugly) would have explained the stages of raising children more adequately. I guess the one thing I have learned is in many ways, all children are different……. but teenage girls…….. are not regular children.

My teen has always been a little different. Nine years ago we started the diagnosing process when her teachers began expressing concern about her behaviour and emotions. It was a long road, and to this day still feels like we constantly make u-turns, backtrack, and very often get fucked up directions. Things may seem steady in some aspects for awhile, but we need to revel in it because they never stay that way. She is my first as well. She was MY first 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and so on. Her brother and sister were a little different because I knew a little more of what to expect at each passing year.

Any parent of a special needs child or a child on the spectrum can tell you that one of the greatest hurdles to jump is the question of, “Does my child reeeeeeeally need medication or nooooo?” It is alot to think about because every medication for the many diagnosis’ and sub diagnosis’ are mind altering meds! Some are sold as street drugs for God’s sake! So whether you choose to or not, this is not a post to judge you. If you feel the need to judge me….. well….. I am pretty clear that I do not generally gives a rat’s batooty.

Mind altering drugs and mental/psychological differences (I do not call them disabilities) are well and fine, but once you add hormones and puberty to the mix, a parent is just up a creek drowning. As a parent of this teen, each time I have to refill her meds, it is called a med review. There is a weight, blood pressure, and other vital sign check along with a mental check. “How is school for her, what changes have you noticed, what are your concerns if any?” For the most part in the past year, I did not have many concerns other than her refusal to turn in homework simply because she just did not want to. It was nearly impossible getting a response.

Now in the past few months, we have crossed over into the Aunt Flo situation. Her visits are not regular. What started off as a great year, quickly took a trip to the deep south and only in one class mind you. The usual response I get is, “I don’t know, I don’t care, I just didn’t want to do it.” I talked with the counselors, teachers, and then finally came her med review. The entire day speaking and crying worrying about my teen who just all of a sudden was no longer acting like my teen ended with one realization…….. she is my TEENAGER. She is not the 8 yr old. She is not the 10 yr old. She isn’t even the 12 yr old. She is my menstrating, moody, pubescent, pissed off for no reason, happy for no reason, mom is evil, mom is her best friend, the world is ending, dramatic, right now I do not need to think about my future teenager.

My constant worrying and trying to help with no response back is fruitless. Every person I spoke with that day was a mother. They had daughters currently a teen going through the same, and daughters who were grown telling me about their wondrous end result of getting through these same years. I felt heard and knew I was not alone. I also realized that while I felt like I was going to have to undo the progress she had made with her meds and harm her emotionally because of her hormones and removing those meds, that I was overreacting and enabling the behaviour.

Many times as parents, we try to constantly solve and find ways to help our children. I just got my dose of reality. I have always tried to help, but this was the moment where I learned that the best way to help, was to not (to an extent). In my mind, her meds, hormones, and schoolwork were all the problem. Now do not worry, I am not downing myself. I love her. I tried, and I know I am a good mom for that. This was my way of releasing my experience with the next hurdle of special needs daughter parenting. I am certain when my son hits puberty, it won’t be AS bad right? Right? Oh God someone tell me it gets easier! Ughhhh…….. it is still too early in the day for wine right?