An Uphill Struggle: From Adhd to Chemical Addiction a Mother's Story

By Barbara Mulloy-Robbins

Managing Dual Diagnosis in the Family

A Mother's Story

An Uphill Struggle is an insightful and heart warming blend of memoir and research as a mother sifts through past attempting to understand the devastating connection between ADD and Chemical Addiction (Dual Diagnosis) as it played out in life and death of her two sons.

It speaks from the heartof their struggles with the undiagnosed and untreatable disorder of ADD and their attempts to self medicate to normalize their turbulent minds.

With great honesty and sensitivity, An Uphill Struggle reaches out to parents locked in a tangle of circumstances that seems at times, beyond their control and understanding.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 31, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477110010

Book preview

Contents

Chapter 1

Good Night, Sweet Prince…

Chapter 2

The College Years

Chapter 3

The Problem Escalates

Chapter 4

The Eye of the Storm

Chapter 5

Another Round

Chapter 6

Treatment: Out of Harm’s Way

Chapter 7

Ode to Tranquility

Chapter 8

Self-Discovery

Chapter 9

An Eternal Summer?

Chapter 10

All Coming Together

Chapter 11

It’s Me Again, God!

Chapter 12

Another Obstacle

Chapter 13

Tough Love Lessons

Chapter 14

ADD and ADDiction

Chapter 15

Making the Connection

Chapter 16

An Anniversary… Remembering

Chapter 17

The Demon’s a Dragon Now

Chapter 18

Parting the Veil

Chapter 19

Their Good-Byes

Chapter 20

Managing Grief

Chapter 21

Touching Peace

Afterword

References & Resources

Credits

The following authors, their agents, and publishers have graciously granted permission to include excerpts from the following:

From Land of Make Believe, by Justin Hayward. Copyright 1972 by Nightswood BV/Sherlock Holmes Ltd. The rights for Nightswood B/V/ Sherlock Holmes Ltd administered by Music Sales Corporation (ASCAP) in the United States and Canada. International Copyright Secured. All Rights Reserved. Reprinted by Permission.

From Family Secrets, by John Bradshaw. Copyright 1995 by John Bradshaw. Reprinted by permission of Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.

From Emotional Intelligence, by Daniel Goleman. Copyright 1995 by Daniel Goleman. Reprinted by permission of Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group.

From Wisdom of the Ages, by Wayne W. Dyer. Copyright 1998 by Wayne W. Dyer. Reprinted by permission of Harper Collins Publishers.

From Daredevils and Daydreamers, by Barbara D. Ingersoll. Copyright 1998 by Barbara D. Ingersoll. Reprinted by permission of Doubleday, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.

From I’d Rather Laugh, by Linda Richman. Copyright 2001 by Linda Richman. Reprinted by permission of Warner Books, a Time-Warner Book Group Company.

From Answers to Distraction, by Drs. Edward Halloway and John Ratey. Copyright 1994 by Drs. Edward Hallowell and John Ratey. Reprinted by permission of Pantheon Books/1994, Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.

From Driven to Distraction, by Drs. Edward Hallowell and John Ratey. Copyright 1994 by Drs. Edward Hallowell and John Ratey. First Touchstone Edition 1995. Reprinted by permission of Pantheon Books, a division of Random House, Inc.

From The Other Me, by Wilma R. Fellman. Copyright 1997 by Wilma R. Fellman. Reprinted by permission of Specialty Press, Inc.

From The Enabler: When Helping Harms the One You Love, by Angelyn Miller. Copyright 1988.by Angelyn Miller. Reprinted by permission of Hunter House Publishers.

From Overload: Attention Defi cit Disorder and the Addictive Brain, by David Miller and Kenneth Blum. Copyright 1996. by David Miller and Kenneth Blum. Permission to Reprint two poems, The Person Within, and It’s in the Genes by the author David Miller.

From Life 101, by John Roger and Peter McWilliams. Copyright 1990 by John Roger and Peter McWilliams. Reprinted by permission of Prelude Press.

From Under the Influence: A Guide to the Myths and Realities of Alcoholism, by James R. Milam and Katherine Ketcham. Copyright 1981 by James R. Milam and Katherine Ketcham. Reprinted by permission of Bantam Books, a division of Random House, Inc.

From A Baker’s Nickel, the poem To Look Back by William Cohen. Copyright 1986 by William Cohen. Reprinted by permission of Harper Collins Publishers/William Morrow.

From Healing the Child Within, by Charles Whitefield the poem Please Hear What I’m Not Saying by Charles C. Finn. Copyright 1987 by Charles Whitefield. Reprinted by permission of Health Communications and the author Charles Whitefield. Poem can be found on his website (www. poetrybycharlescfi nn.com).

From The Link Between ADD and Addiction, by Wendy Richardson. Copyright 1997 by Wendy Richardson. Reprinted by permission of the author.

Efforts have been made to obtain permissions for this book. If any required acknowledgments have been omitted, it is unintentional. If notified, the publishers will be pleased to rectify any omission in future editions.

Dedicated to my children, Greg, Chris, and Heidi

A very special thanks to Ronda Reid

for her valued editorial assistance.

chris_greg.jpg

Barbara’s son’s Chris (left) and Greg (right)

Introduction

O ur BOOK IS an invitation to a journey. I warmly invite you to walk with me through its pages. For those of you who find meaning and support in what I am about to share, I have accomplished my intended purpose. Writing this story written seven years ago was for me an intensely personal and cathartic experience, for it involved speaking from the heart of the troubled journey of my two sons,Christopher (Chris) and Gregory (Greg), both of whom were out of step in the great dance of life, crippled by the disease of chemical dependency and Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD).* For Chris and Greg, and for my own self-healing, I offer you my story.

In frightening detail, the media reminds us of the life-threatening and horrific consequences of alcohol, drug abuse, and addiction. Also highlighted as important and newsworthy in media coverage are the damaging effects of untreated behavioural disorders. But are we made aware of the devastating connections between the undetected behavioral disorder of ADD and the disease of chemical addiction?

This issue has touched my family deeply. Both my sons went untreated as children with ADD. As adolescents and adults, they struggled to normalize their internal world with alcohol and drugs. The underlying condition tightened the grip of addiction.

When I began to put together the factors of ADD and chemical addiction, I found myself on a quest to understand how these two co-mingle in the human experience, and to try to discover a way out for my sons. Unfortunately, my quest did not save my sons, but it is my hope that the experience of my family and the information that I bring to bear on the subject will help families suffering from the combined effects of ADD and addiction. It is my belief that the connection between these is something that is woefully underexposed to the detriment of thousands.

Wendy Richardson, an addiction specialist, points out in her book, The Link Between ADD and Chemical Addiction, the consequences of attempting to subdue the various neurological symptoms of ADD with alcohol and drugs. Graphically illustrating her argument, she cautions us that by doing so would be like, adding gasoline to fire. She argues that addressing one problem without recognizing and treating the other is rarely successful.

It’s not enough to treat addictions and not treat ADHD, nor is it enough to treat ADHD and not treat a co-occurring addiction, both need to be diagnosed and treated for the individual to have a chance at ongoing recovery. Sadly, in addition to that, she tells us, Too many people with ADHD, learning and perceptual difficulties, are incarcerated or dying from a co-occurring addiction.

Since many disorders and diseases are genetically predetermined, it should come as no surprise to learn that both ADD and chemical addiction are genetic in origin. Unfortunately, the lethal connection between the two has received little attention.

This book blends memoir and research in order to shed both objective and subjective light on the subject. It will help any family that suspects that their loved one’s addiction is rooted in a behavioral condition. It is also about how self-medication—the choice to use drugs to normalize the symptoms of emotional illness—masks the underlying problem.

The diagnosis of ADD came too late for both my sons, and the consequences were tragic. Chris died of an accidental overdose in January of 1997, and Greg sustained permanent neurological impairment resulting from the lethal combination of alcohol and other drugs.

When my eldest son, Greg, was five years old, he was diagnosed with Minimal Brain Dysfunction (MBD). He struggled with self-control issues and exhibited an inability to sustain prolonged attention as a child and adolescent. The diagnosis at the time was MBD, but today it is properly labeled Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) and treated accordingly.

Regrettably, it was only in the last year or two of Chris’s life that I began to see the connection between a behavioral disorder and his addiction, and to fully understand what the meaning of dual diagnosis was all about. Though the hyperactive (H) component was not externally evident in Chris’s diagnosis, he had all the emotional markers of Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD), including restlessness, anxiety, and low-frustration tolerance. Those who suffer from ADHD or ADD have been described as daredevils and daydreamers. Greg was the former; Chris was the latter. From both sides of their family, they were genetically bound to both Attention Deficit disorders and chemical addiction.

In an article written in Perspectives/October 2001: Journal on Addiction Research and Public Policy, it was estimated that as many as ten million young people might suffer from emotional and psychiatric problems of such magnitude that their ability to function is severely compromised. The report states that substance abuse overlaps significantly with learning disabilities and behavioral disorders (the most common being attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder), which affects over 20 percent of school-age children.

Joseph Califano, who heads the National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse at Columbia University, sent a letter to Ann Landers urgently requesting that it be printed in her syndicated newspaper column. It was dated August 18, 1999, and it read in part, "Please tell your readers about research showing a link between Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and substance abuse. Those children with learning disabilities who fall prey to substance abuse and addiction must receive treatment tailored to deal with both problems. Each delay focusing on this can set them on a tragic and often deadly course."

My story is intended to not only give solace to those parents who have loved troubled children and perhaps lost them to an undetected dual diagnosis, but also to serve as a wake-up call to parents who suspect that the symptoms manifested in their children’s unruly, inattentive, daredevils and daydreamers behavior is something other than what society considers normal.

As I engaged in the experience of writing this story, I came to fully recognize my role as a fellow traveler because of my relationship with my two sons. My personal journey was not intended to play such an important role in the telling of their story, but it became apparent that without it this book would be incomplete. The spiritual lessons I have learned became more and more evident to me as I walked myself through the pages of our life together. As a mother, I was engaged in my own struggles to live and let God, to allow my sons to live their lives, even though they seemed destined for tragedy, and, more importantly, to find meaning and joy despite circumstances that one cannot control. It was as though I had to split myself in two, in an attempt to become two different people.

Ultimately, with the death of my beloved son, Chris, and in 2004 the death of my son, Greg, I searched for a way to accept the unimaginable and to heal. I desperately needed to develop a spiritual understanding of new ways, new thoughts, and a new life. And while awaiting that onset of clarity, I came to learn that until there is creation in the face of loss, there can be no healing.

My sons and I traveled on a road together with no map or directions in hand. We were passengers on a journey replete with detours, potholes, crumbling bridges, and baggage often too heavy to bear. Though reluctant at first, I took pen in hand, and in doing so began another journey. What I learned was there are no definitive answers, only many more questions to be asked and, in time, hopefully answered. But for many, time is running out. There are children and young adults out there, as I write and as you read, placing themselves in great danger in an attempt to normalize their turbulent minds. And, to those who have lost a child to the powerful grip of chemical addiction and are asking themselves what they could have done differently, I say, as I remind myself frequently, take comfort in the Serenity Prayer that states in part, Help me to accept the things I cannot change, to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. It’s one of life’s most difficult and painful lessons.

I am but one small voice and only a flicker of light in the darkness amid the numerous questions yet to be answered about ADD and chemical addiction and their relationship to each other. The genetic overload that burdened Greg and Chris made their lives fertile ground for what was to follow. Tracking the precarious nature of the path their lives took, I am reminded of Elton John’s touching song, Candle in the Wind. My boys were just that, candles in the wind, as the script of their lives gradually and painfully unfolded into their adult years.

* Note: For the sake of brevity, the acronym ADD will be used throughout this book to refer to both Attention Deficit Disorder and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, ADHD.

* Many names have been fictionalized throughout the narrative. Chris and Greg, however, will remain the same throughout.

Something in you dies when you bear the unbearable.

—Ram Dass

Chapter 1

Good Night, Sweet Prince…

T ODAY, WITH PEN in hand, I begin my story. Today is where my book begins. For it was with many yesterdays of grief, loss, and healing that I was brought to a greater awareness of life’s themes and lessons. Grief has taught me that while walking through the dark places, where clouds hide the face of the sun, you can, if you look, discover light, courage, and healing, and see that the sun is still there.

It was January, 1997 when my son, Christopher, died of an accidental drug overdose. He was thirty-two years old.

We were in Florida, my husband and I, a welcome and blissful escape into the warm sunshine before heading back for the New York Toy Fair for him, and a weekend course of study for me. Two weeks of mindless indulgences before returning to the bone-chilling cold of Manhattan. But my expectations for abundance were soon to be met with shock and emptiness as parallel realities collided.

At approximately 11:30 on the morning of the 29th of January, I received the phone call every parent fears. I can’t say that I had a premonition of a strange, haunting feeling that something was about to happen, the kind of knowing that some people experience almost telepathically. Instead, I was very much in my material world, and it was a delightfully restful, trouble-free one for me that morning… or so I thought. In the blink of an eye I was plunged from a peaceful reality to a nightmare with the horrible news that was destined to change the direction of my life forever.

A friend of Chris’s was at the other end of the line. Her trembling voice faded in and out as she cried, telling me that she found him, as if asleep, dead on his bedroom floor like an extinguished flame… his bright light to be no more.

It took a moment for her words to register. Oh my God, I screamed. And then she was silent. What are you telling me? I gasped, as if words could change or soften this terrible impact. I kept begging her to tell me it just wasn’t true. I think what I meant was that I just wouldn’t accept what she was saying. With no reassurance forthcoming, I took her number and asked that she stay by the phone. I would call her back momentarily. My face streaming with tears, I braced against the kitchen wall… feeling confused and abandoned. In that moment death was more than I could comprehend. These terrible things happen to other people… don’t they? We’re special, or so we think. Exempt from tragedy. Everything was fine this morning… even peaceful. It was as if I turned my back on worry, and this happens? Yes, I knew that Chris was living on the edge, but still I never actually accepted the ultimate consequence of his addiction. I guess I deceived myself into thinking that our children don’t die before us. All those years… an investment of love, and then this… nothing. But then… maybe, something. To have had his love in my life was something. But now that wasn’t enough. Is it ever enough? My mind flip-flopped. Now, like many others before me, I would be propelled into a new world with heavy heart, forced to bear the unimaginable… for I wanted so much more.

The walls of the condo were closing in on me. I stood there feeling small and powerless, like a butterfly trapped in a jar. Making my way to the balcony, I stood there watching the seagulls fly overhead. They seemed so free and unencumbered. Squeals of laughter and children’s voices were audible from below. Families enjoying the warming rays of the Florida sun… lazing about on the beach… in the pool, while a totally different reality of pain and loss was washing over me like a tidal wave in a sea of raging emotion. Two worlds, two realities. The contrast was surreal.

Shock is difficult to describe. You’re numb and powerless. Yet somewhere