As any married (or divorced) person will attest, marriage is hard work. Adding a child to the mix multiplies the hard work exponentially. Add a child with a psychiatric illness - let the rollercoaster ride begin.

There are people who think loneliness and children with psychiatric illness go hand in hand in a vicious circle--a child's illness causes him to withdraw; his withdrawal causes society to retreat from him even further. There are others who define themselves as introverts and insist they are not "mentally ill," they are "just" introverts. Which came first--the introverted chicken, or the mentally ill egg?

I have a confession to make: I get jealous of charitable causes that get more attention than mental-health-related organizations. Does that make me a bad person?

My name is Angela, and my kid has bipolar disorder and ADHD. Now that I’ve completed the first step, I’d like my coffee and donut, thank you. It’s taken me a long time to get here.

I am a working parent. Some parents work because they love their work; others because they need the money. I’m a little of both—I don’t love my work, but I value my sanity and indoor plumbing. Without my income, we’d have neither. Being a working parent is a juggling act under the best circumstances, but when your child has a chronic illness, it’s virtually impossible. Sadly, parents whose children have a psychiatric illness (like my son, Bob, who has bipolar disorder and ADHD) struggle with all of those difficulties--and then some.

There's no cure for crazy. Sometimes I forget. My husband pointed it out to me once. "When he does well, you get your hopes up," he said. "And I think you let yourself have expectations that aren't realistic. It's almost like you still think someday he'll be cured." He was right, of course, but that did nothing to soften the blow.

“Mom always liked you best!” Tommy Smothers made the lament famous; every sibling has likely heard it. But for those with mentally ill siblings—could there be some truth to it?

As I noted in a previous blog post, my son, Bob, who has bipolar disorder and ADHD, made it through his first week of third grade—albeit with some problems. Last Monday—the first day of Week 2—I received my first phone call of the year from the principal. Here we go again.

  I’ve long been a fan of the Rudyard Kipling poem, “If.” If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you… I can relate to this verse. I’m sure all parents of mentally ill children can. Often the greatest challenge we face is not going stark raving mad ourselves.

Last July, Bob’s psychiatrist handed me prescriptions for lithium, Seroquel, Clonidine, and Focalin. We had discussed this before. Using lithium to treat childhood bipolar disorder was his "last resort", something he waited to prescribe until nothing else worked for Bob. Lithium? Had it come to that? What if even lithium didn’t work?