Trying something different

There is a new pharmaceutical in my house: Seroquel. It is being used as an anti-anxiety/antidepressant -- not by me, but by Cecilia. In the past couple months her "episodes" have become more intense and physically violent. Her fury is directed toward me (or anyone who stands between us). This does not happen frequently, but it does happen. Yesterday, after a particularly unnerving Monday night, she saw a psychiatrist. And now we have a bottle of Seroquel.

When Cecilia was about two years old the tantrums began. In kindergarten her behavior prompted a visit to a child development center where they decreed she had ADHD and prescribed Ritalin. I knew ADHD was not the correct diagnosis and I refused to give her a drug just to satisfy her teachers. At nine years old she was diagnosed with Asperger's -- we finally knew what we were dealing with. As she matured her meltdowns continued but seemed to have plateaued (maybe I was just getting used to them). In the last couple of years, however, things are worse. She says things that cannot be ignored, hence the attempts at therapy. And now, most recently, they can be physical. Under these circumstances my long-held resistance against medication has crumbled and I do think she would benefit -- we all would benefit -- from a little help.

The poor thing has so much on her and I wish I could make it better.

I do not excuse her behavior. In lucid moments we discuss her accountability and ways she can improve; this has worked in the past to a certain degree. It takes time, however, and these meltdowns are different from those of three or four years ago.

Today will be day number two with our magic little pill. Let's hope for the best.