<p>Momof2, Your last post really brings it all back. My husband and I have been in exactly the same place emotionally as you. As your son’s recovery continues, you’ll get through this stage and learn to trust him again. Just remember that your son isn’t making rational decisions when he lies to you. He has an illness that’s just as real and insidious as cancer.</p>
<p>My husband and I had to learn to change our approach with our son in order to facilitate his recovery. When we attended sessions with our son’s wonderful psychologist, he helped us see that our son was incapable of making rational decisions. As a result, our tough love was exactly the wrong approach. The psychologist told us that we had to lay off him completely. We were to let him sleep all day, play video games, ignore our request for help with chores, and talk back without repercussions if he so chose. We learned that with true clinical depression, too much pressure from parents actually makes matters worse.</p>
<p>Hard as it was for us, this is exactly what my husband and I did. It was especially difficult for my husband. I don’t know if it’s a guy thing or what, but he simply couldn’t understand why our son wasn’t motivated to succeed like he had been in college. He blamed laziness and irresponsibility. Once we both backed off our son, however, we began to see real improvement.</p>
<p>We showered our son with love. If he talked back to one of us, we’d simply give him a hug and tell him we loved him. If he read a book, I’d read it, too, so I could discuss it with him. If he didn’t want to join us at dinner (which was often, as he had no appetite), I’d pick up his plate without a word. We praised him whenever he completed even the smallest task.</p>
<p>One of the most helpful things we did was to bring home two puppies. They absolutely adored our son, and I could literally see his enjoyment of life creeping back as he played with them. In fact, I credit them with helping change his sleeping and gaming habits. Every morning, they galloped down our upstairs hall and leaped on his bed to slather him with wet puppy kisses. It was impossible for him to sleep late. It was the same thing with video games. Whenever he devoted his attention to games, the puppies jumped all over him and distracted him. He always wound up playing with the dogs instead of gaming.</p>
<p>As our son began to show improvement, we started giving him responsibilities. Our mantra was “Small goals.” I sent him to the grocery store to pick up something for dinner. My husband asked for help with rugby practice. I had him hang up the shirts I’d washed that day. Eventually, he reached the point where we tested him by leaving him alone overnight with the puppies. I was worried sick, but he did magnificently. When we arrived home the next day, the kitchen was spotless, his bed was made, and the dogs were fed, watered, and happy. The next step was a long weekend alone, and he was again successful.</p>
<p>During this time, he began an internship. We were thrilled at his dedication and responsible behavior towards his job. My husband and I suggested that he sign up for two night courses at the local university, and he agreed. Even after working full-time during the day, he never missed a class. He beamed when he brought home two As at the end of the semester.</p>
<p>I guess what I’m trying to say is that we knew when we had our son back. We knew when we could trust him again. If you still don’t trust your son, perhaps he is not yet far enough along in his recovery. It took us nine full months, but we knew without question.</p>
<p>Reading through the concerns of some of the parents here regarding second semester blues reminds me of the onset of my son’s disease. At the beginning of his sophomore year, he became very noncommunicative (or, should I say, more noncommunicative than usual.) Whenever we asked him how he was doing, he would answer “fine” just like many other kids in this thread. Over Christmas, he said he wasn’t as happy as he thought he should be, but he was doing OK. I talked with him about his sleeping and eating habits, class schedule, and online gaming. Because I thought SADD might be a problem, I bought him a daylight lamp, multivitamins, and vitamin D supplements. (He never drank coffee or soda, so caffeine wasn’t his problem.) I tried to stay in closer contact with him over the next semester, but he never seemed to want to talk. He was “fine.”</p>
<p>He seemed happy over the summer, so I didn’t worry when he went back to school. Over the course of his junior year, however, he again started feeling down. He wrote us a long e-mail one night saying he just wasn’t happy. This time, I suggested counseling. When he said he didn’t need it, I drove up to his school and took him to his appointments. After a while, he told us was was better and didn’t need counseling anymore. We believed him.</p>
<p>Then came senior year. Ah, senior year. At first, our son seemed to be coping. As the year progressed, I began to notice he never answered, or returned, my phone calls. He never responded to my daily e-mails, even when I asked specific questions that needed answers. He never got on instant messaging anymore. I finally sent an e-mail informing him we were withdrawing our financial support if he didn’t communicate with us. At that point, he sent the e-mail that resulted in our withdrawing him from school. Essentially, the e-mail said “he felt dead inside…he didn’t find joy in anything anymore…he couldn’t eat or sleep…he avoided his friends…he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed to attend classes.” </p>
<p>This shocked me into action. I called a psychologist, who said my husband and I needed to get up to our son’s school and bring him home immediately. So, without our son’s prior knowledge, we drove up to his school and surprised him. Much to our amazement, he agreed with us when we told him we thought he should come home. The rest is history.</p>
<p>I’m aware that many of your children don’t suffer from clinical depression. If, however, the posts in this thread help even one of you to recognize your child’s symptoms as clinical depression, then they’ve served a useful purpose.</p>
<p>You know what one of the best things about our son’s recovery has been? He FINALLY communicates with us. After almost four years of calling home only when he needed something, he now calls almost every day and sometimes talks for 30 minutes to an hour. These are quality talks, ranging from details about his everyday life to his feelings and emotions. He frequently tells us how much our support over the past year means to him and how much he loves us. The other day he sent an e-mail saying “Dad, I know you have to work an extra year before you retire because of me. I love you guys, straight up.” Gulp.</p>
<p>I am so grateful to everyone who has helped us through this difficult time. Most importantly, I’m bursting at the seams with pride at what our son has achieved despite significant obstacles: his happiness.</p>
That’s what happened to us. Suitemate becomes convinced D is “not doing that well”. She goes to the RA. The RA tells D - "You tell the counselors or I tell the counselors .Take your pick. " They ratted her out. Thank God. She called me on the way to the counselor’s office. Missed me. Told mom. That was not such a good thing. Mom cried a lot that week . Heck, by the time I got in the kid was doing better than the mom. LOL.</p>