If I Don't Support Him, Who Will
Transparent. Free from pretense or deceit, readily understood, characterized by visibility or accessibility of information. The art of transparency is sometimes necessary in the helping profession in order to facilitate healing within others. Often times we may find that being transparent also allows us to heal ourselves in the process. As a Social Worker, being able to be honest about my experiences is something that has helped me reach others who may have experienced similar circumstances to those of my own.
Recently, I began to publicly open up about my experiences in Iraq, my battles with mental illness and substance abuse, and my road to recovery. By making myself vulnerable, I've been able to touch the lives of other veterans across my home state of Illinois and beyond. I've learned that my struggles have led to my success. In doing so, I have discovered an inner strength that is now playing out in another part of my life: fatherhood.
In a recent blog, I briefly spoke about my first marriage and the negative situations in which I found myself. I detailed my account of how for years I fought to see my son on alternating weekends after learning of his whereabouts after fours years while his mother fought me every step of the way. I cherished the day where I found out that I was awarded full custody after so many nights I cried myself to sleep, the severe pain after driving across the state for only a few hours of parenting time with my spinal injury, the absorbent amount of money I spent on three separate teams of lawyers, and the constant prayers from myself and my family. It's been 13 of the best months of my recent life.
Just weeks into my newfound life with my son, details about his time with his mother and her husband began to surface. I learned of the tremendous amount of physical and emotional abuse that he endured for years. I witnessed the scars on his body that previously went unnoticed. I heard him explain tearfully how he continually feared for his safety while in their presence. Because his symptoms were so severe, I ultimately resorted to having him hospitalized twice as well as placed in an intensive outpatient program for a few weeks in order to help get him on the right path mentally. I soon learned that he had been diagnosed with the same ailments that I too continue to struggle with: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder.
Having gone through the process myself, and with the knowledge I gained during my undergraduate studies, I was aware of programs that would be beneficial to his stability and I aggressively sought them out. There were weekly counseling appointments established with rotating visits with a psychiatrist. Things seemed to get better, but as I knew all too well, there would still be hurdles that he would need to overcome, minor setbacks in his treatment. Through it all, I refused to give up on my son. If I didn't support him, who would?
After our cross-country transition to New York this June, finding a new treatment team has proven to be a challenge, especially with my TriCare East-Humana military insurance. Because of this, he has not been able to get in with a psychiatrist to continue his medication regiment, causing a noticeable difference in his mood and behavior. After weeks of searching, sending emails and making phone calls, I was finally able to locate a therapist who accepted my insurance. This was a step in the right direction as I needed to ensure my son had a qualified professional to help him work through some of his mental anguish.
Yesterday we had our initial intake assessment, lasting for over two hours. Initially, he was in the room as we completed some of the paperwork and questionnaires. But after specific details came to light, he was asked to step out of the room so I could have an intimate conversation with the provider. He confirmed what I had known both from my son's previous diagnosis as well as through my own interactions and observations with him: he had experienced trauma in his past, attributing to his PTSD and MDD. But he went a step further in his opinion, something I had once briefly considered but had not given much thought: mild autism spectrum disorder. As an infant, my son missed several age-appropriate milestones. He was delayed in his crawling, walking and talking. Currently, he has an individualized education program for speech because of this delay.
During the early years of his life, I was not around for two reasons. Right after his first birthday, I deployed to Iraq for almost seven months. When I returned, his mother and I remained separated for the remainder of the year before finally trying to work things out as I was transferred to my second military installation located in Nevada in January 2010. That arrangement only lasted four months as the relationship once again became heavily abusive. During my absence, I was unaware of the the delays in his growth milestones for years to come.
After his mother and I separated, and later divorced, things began to transpire in his life, which attributed to the doctor leaning towards my son having mild autism. He was unable to maintain social interactions with his peers, he would not hold eye contact or remain engaged in active conversations, he would fixate on certain items, and his mood and behavior began to show to early signs of autism. His mother never took any of these signs into consideration, so he was never taken to a medical professional. Instead, when he became too much to handle, she and her husband resorted to physical and emotional abuse. This trauma only made some of his symptoms worse.
Academically, my son is very bright. He tends to test off the charts when statewide exam come around. But during normal school days, he struggles. He does not turn in work or complete homework assignments. He struggles with reading, spelling and comprehension. He is unorganized. His behavior also led to him being suspended multiple times beginning as early as kindergarten. Even with all of the ongoing signs, his mother never gave it much thought; instead resorting to physical punishment instead of trying to determine the root cause.
Once I gained full custody of him in the summer of 2017, I took notice of his academic performance. After obtaining a copy of his previous grades, I saw that he was behind at least a year in each subject, two years in reading. I refused to give up on him or let him fail. We spent our summer tutoring out of workbooks and making weekly trips to the library. My mother told me that if I didn't support him, who would? I took that thought to heart, something I continue to stay committed to today. By then end of his fourth grade first semester, he was back to grade level in every subject, and ahead a full year in math. Academically, he was getting back on the right track when testing came around. In terms of his mood, behavior, and mental health, he continued to struggle. But I refused to give up on him.
There were numerous times where I was called to his school because of an incident that had occurred. I had spent countless hours constructing a support team for him that consisted of his teacher, the teacher's aid, the principal and assistant principal, two social workers, his IEP team, and the school psychologist. We all worked together to ensure that he would succeed as they were made aware of his turbulent past. They saw my commitment to my son and his well-being and consistently worked with me as I completed my final semester of undergrad. They were the first to mention the possibility of him having autism, but for the time being it went undiagnosed.
After our transition to New York, I began to notice further signs and symptoms that are listed in the diagnostic criteria from the DSM-5, the clinician's guide to mental health. He was very resistant to even small changes in daily routine to the point where he would be visibly unsettled; his verbal and nonverbal communicative behaviors continued to deteriorate; he has adverse hyperactivity responses to loud noises; and he continues to have minor impairment in his social functioning. After explaining my observations to the psychologist yesterday for nearly two hours, this led him to believe that my son may have mild autism spectrum disorder.
At only ten years old, my son has had to endure a lot of adverse life situations that continue to affect him. I have supported him through it all thus far because if I don't, who will? After yesterday's revelation, I still refuse to give up on my son. I will seek out a secondary opinion and if they too concur that he may be mildly autistic, I will take the necessary steps to ensure that he is properly cared for in all of his environments. I have come to understand that I am the most important person in his life, the one who cares for him in all aspects. If yesterday's opinion ends up being confirmed, I will ensure that I continue to provide all of the necessary resources for him.
My mother has told me time and time again that while I continue to share my story, my son also has a story to tell. Although he may not be able to verbalize it at this point, if he so chooses to do so, his personal experiences will go on to help someone else who too lives with similar situations. I have taken him along with me to each of my speeches and keynote addresses recently, often times speaking of him and our time together. I intend to show him that although I have and continue to struggle, I have found a purpose in my life, one that helps and gives back to others. I have chosen a path of service. Even if he does not follow in my footsteps, I will remain by his side through all of his ordeals. If I don't support him, who will?
Recently, I began to publicly open up about my experiences in Iraq, my battles with mental illness and substance abuse, and my road to recovery. By making myself vulnerable, I've been able to touch the lives of other veterans across my home state of Illinois and beyond. I've learned that my struggles have led to my success. In doing so, I have discovered an inner strength that is now playing out in another part of my life: fatherhood.
In a recent blog, I briefly spoke about my first marriage and the negative situations in which I found myself. I detailed my account of how for years I fought to see my son on alternating weekends after learning of his whereabouts after fours years while his mother fought me every step of the way. I cherished the day where I found out that I was awarded full custody after so many nights I cried myself to sleep, the severe pain after driving across the state for only a few hours of parenting time with my spinal injury, the absorbent amount of money I spent on three separate teams of lawyers, and the constant prayers from myself and my family. It's been 13 of the best months of my recent life.
Just weeks into my newfound life with my son, details about his time with his mother and her husband began to surface. I learned of the tremendous amount of physical and emotional abuse that he endured for years. I witnessed the scars on his body that previously went unnoticed. I heard him explain tearfully how he continually feared for his safety while in their presence. Because his symptoms were so severe, I ultimately resorted to having him hospitalized twice as well as placed in an intensive outpatient program for a few weeks in order to help get him on the right path mentally. I soon learned that he had been diagnosed with the same ailments that I too continue to struggle with: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder.
Having gone through the process myself, and with the knowledge I gained during my undergraduate studies, I was aware of programs that would be beneficial to his stability and I aggressively sought them out. There were weekly counseling appointments established with rotating visits with a psychiatrist. Things seemed to get better, but as I knew all too well, there would still be hurdles that he would need to overcome, minor setbacks in his treatment. Through it all, I refused to give up on my son. If I didn't support him, who would?
After our cross-country transition to New York this June, finding a new treatment team has proven to be a challenge, especially with my TriCare East-Humana military insurance. Because of this, he has not been able to get in with a psychiatrist to continue his medication regiment, causing a noticeable difference in his mood and behavior. After weeks of searching, sending emails and making phone calls, I was finally able to locate a therapist who accepted my insurance. This was a step in the right direction as I needed to ensure my son had a qualified professional to help him work through some of his mental anguish.
Yesterday we had our initial intake assessment, lasting for over two hours. Initially, he was in the room as we completed some of the paperwork and questionnaires. But after specific details came to light, he was asked to step out of the room so I could have an intimate conversation with the provider. He confirmed what I had known both from my son's previous diagnosis as well as through my own interactions and observations with him: he had experienced trauma in his past, attributing to his PTSD and MDD. But he went a step further in his opinion, something I had once briefly considered but had not given much thought: mild autism spectrum disorder. As an infant, my son missed several age-appropriate milestones. He was delayed in his crawling, walking and talking. Currently, he has an individualized education program for speech because of this delay.
During the early years of his life, I was not around for two reasons. Right after his first birthday, I deployed to Iraq for almost seven months. When I returned, his mother and I remained separated for the remainder of the year before finally trying to work things out as I was transferred to my second military installation located in Nevada in January 2010. That arrangement only lasted four months as the relationship once again became heavily abusive. During my absence, I was unaware of the the delays in his growth milestones for years to come.
After his mother and I separated, and later divorced, things began to transpire in his life, which attributed to the doctor leaning towards my son having mild autism. He was unable to maintain social interactions with his peers, he would not hold eye contact or remain engaged in active conversations, he would fixate on certain items, and his mood and behavior began to show to early signs of autism. His mother never took any of these signs into consideration, so he was never taken to a medical professional. Instead, when he became too much to handle, she and her husband resorted to physical and emotional abuse. This trauma only made some of his symptoms worse.
Academically, my son is very bright. He tends to test off the charts when statewide exam come around. But during normal school days, he struggles. He does not turn in work or complete homework assignments. He struggles with reading, spelling and comprehension. He is unorganized. His behavior also led to him being suspended multiple times beginning as early as kindergarten. Even with all of the ongoing signs, his mother never gave it much thought; instead resorting to physical punishment instead of trying to determine the root cause.
Once I gained full custody of him in the summer of 2017, I took notice of his academic performance. After obtaining a copy of his previous grades, I saw that he was behind at least a year in each subject, two years in reading. I refused to give up on him or let him fail. We spent our summer tutoring out of workbooks and making weekly trips to the library. My mother told me that if I didn't support him, who would? I took that thought to heart, something I continue to stay committed to today. By then end of his fourth grade first semester, he was back to grade level in every subject, and ahead a full year in math. Academically, he was getting back on the right track when testing came around. In terms of his mood, behavior, and mental health, he continued to struggle. But I refused to give up on him.
There were numerous times where I was called to his school because of an incident that had occurred. I had spent countless hours constructing a support team for him that consisted of his teacher, the teacher's aid, the principal and assistant principal, two social workers, his IEP team, and the school psychologist. We all worked together to ensure that he would succeed as they were made aware of his turbulent past. They saw my commitment to my son and his well-being and consistently worked with me as I completed my final semester of undergrad. They were the first to mention the possibility of him having autism, but for the time being it went undiagnosed.
After our transition to New York, I began to notice further signs and symptoms that are listed in the diagnostic criteria from the DSM-5, the clinician's guide to mental health. He was very resistant to even small changes in daily routine to the point where he would be visibly unsettled; his verbal and nonverbal communicative behaviors continued to deteriorate; he has adverse hyperactivity responses to loud noises; and he continues to have minor impairment in his social functioning. After explaining my observations to the psychologist yesterday for nearly two hours, this led him to believe that my son may have mild autism spectrum disorder.
At only ten years old, my son has had to endure a lot of adverse life situations that continue to affect him. I have supported him through it all thus far because if I don't, who will? After yesterday's revelation, I still refuse to give up on my son. I will seek out a secondary opinion and if they too concur that he may be mildly autistic, I will take the necessary steps to ensure that he is properly cared for in all of his environments. I have come to understand that I am the most important person in his life, the one who cares for him in all aspects. If yesterday's opinion ends up being confirmed, I will ensure that I continue to provide all of the necessary resources for him.
My mother has told me time and time again that while I continue to share my story, my son also has a story to tell. Although he may not be able to verbalize it at this point, if he so chooses to do so, his personal experiences will go on to help someone else who too lives with similar situations. I have taken him along with me to each of my speeches and keynote addresses recently, often times speaking of him and our time together. I intend to show him that although I have and continue to struggle, I have found a purpose in my life, one that helps and gives back to others. I have chosen a path of service. Even if he does not follow in my footsteps, I will remain by his side through all of his ordeals. If I don't support him, who will?
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