I haven't personally tried Lexapro, but I have experience with Seroxat (or maybe it was Seroquel? Honestly, my memory of the exact name is a bit fuzzy). It’s an antidepressant I took for about six months during one of the absolute lowest and most difficult chapters of my life. While it definitely helped me start functioning again and everything felt more manageable, there was a major catch—my sex drive completely vanished. There was zero desire or interest, which was incredibly awkward because, let's be honest, that kind of thing starts causing real friction in a marriage after a while. After roughly six months, I started experiencing some really bizarre side effects; I couldn't sleep a wink at night, my heart would race like crazy, and I became increasingly jittery. So, I decided to slowly taper off the dosage first, eventually stopping altogether after a few weeks. I'm still dealing with some lingering issues, but things are starting to look up on that front. I wouldn't say I'm suddenly high-libido, but at least I feel alive again.
It’s been nearly two months now since she moved in with her father. He tells me she’s behaving herself, but the lack of effort toward schoolwork remains—she’s still up all night staring at screens, and honestly, my biggest fear is that she might start experimenting with drugs. I suspect she finds it much easier there because the boundaries are so loose; her dad doesn't even blink if she isn't home by morning, whereas I find myself completely losing my mind over it. I’ve reached the point where I just let her be—no questioning, no nagging, no interference. I feel like I’ve tried everything short of getting physical. Now, I’m going to try this total detachment approach, just to see if her resistance towards me finally fades once she realizes there’s nothing left to fight against. We’ve seen several different psychologists and psychiatrists because things felt so pre-crisis and overwhelming that I didn't even know where to begin. This most recent specialist actually came the closest to making progress, even though her methods seemed a bit unconventional to me. Now, she’s pushing her away too, but it follows a predictable pattern: she’ll engage until someone tries to get too close emotionally—the moment she senses an attempt at true connection, she shuts down and cuts contact. Her father finds these sessions incredibly expensive and he hates the long drives to get to the office, so he’s actually encouraging her to stop. Once again, my hands are tied because he provides her with so much support in other areas—it’s always been this way. If I pick a fight with him, I’ll just end up facing his resentment on top of everything else, and I really don't know which would be worse. I truly believe parents need to be a united front. If a child senses that one parent is being firm while the other is being lenient, it’s game over—they’ll learn exactly how to play both sides to their advantage. Unfortunately, that is precisely what is happening in my house.
We’ve had to involve psychiatry because things escalated to self-harm and running away from home—it’s been a lot to handle. We find ourselves in this incredibly strange situation: her father and I divorced when she was just nine years old. For the most part, she handled the split quite normally; there were some minor growing pains, sure, but everything seemed to function smoothly until she hit fifteen. Her father and I have maintained a great relationship—we communicate well and stay involved—so she never felt (or at least didn't seem to feel) like she was missing out on a parent since we’ve both always been right there for her. I even make sure she stays connected with her paternal side of the family—grandparents, aunts, uncles—and for years, I’ve tried my absolute best to ensure the divorce never truly impacted her. Now, we’re facing this absurd reality where her father and I are actually closer to her than she is to us. It isn't like there was any abuse or anything negative regarding the split; if anything, she’s always been our little princess. If this is all stemming from the divorce, why is she reacting this way only six years later? Her doctor suggests the divorce isn't the cause, but rather that she’s using it as a tool to manipulate us. Honestly, I don't know what else to think—I just know it's exhausting, believe me...
Personally, I’m convinced there is an issue here. Her father, though—he’s adamant that everything is fine. Even her psychiatrist won't give a definitive answer yet; apparently, you can't truly confirm a disorder until someone hits twenty-five. I can see with my own eyes that this situation is spiraling out of control, but I feel completely powerless—every time I try to step in or take action, she just runs straight back to her father and shuts me out. 😕
I find myself asking that same question quite often. Back when I was in fourth grade, there wasn't even a debate about finishing school—it was just a given, a fundamental part of life. But looking at kids today? I get this impression that they think simply existing is enough, and that the world should just hand everything to them on a silver platter. When I try to talk to my daughter about her future—or even if she’s actually *thinking* about it—her responses vary wildly depending on her mood, usually landing somewhere along these lines:
- Ugh, stop bothering me with this nonsense! - Why do you even care? It's my life, not yours! - Who cares? I'll just go work as a barista or something! - Whatever, if I can't find a job, I'll just figure something else out! - Maybe I'll be an interpreter or something like that. When I bring up what kind of grades she needs to get into language programs—reminding her that it actually requires studying—she just brushes me off, claiming I'm "ruining everything."
Immaturity, recklessness, arrogance... what is it, really? I feel like by age 17, people should have at least a tiny bit more maturity in their heads—enough to realize that without an education, you aren't going very far. Unfortunately, unless you possess some extraordinary, once-in-a-generation talent, you can't exactly build a career out of thin air. You could always aim to marry well, assuming that's even her ambition and she finds someone willing to take her on, but has she even given any thought to that?
Honestly, folks, it feels like living in a cartoon—all this constant clutter, the endless complaining, the shouting, and the general chaos. It’s enough to drive anyone to their breaking point, though I suppose we all just try to power through. Everything seems manageable as long as you see them taking responsibility for themselves—you know, recognizing when they're making mistakes and actually stopping. It stays okay until you start worrying about bad influences, drugs, or alcohol creeping in. Someone mentioned that proactive intervention was key here. I tried clicking that link you shared, but it won't load for me, so I don't have the full context—but I would love some advice on how to handle a 14 or 15-year-old who is absolutely obsessed with "living her own life." She even went as far as demanding that my husband and I rent her an apartment so she can live entirely on her own at fifteen, arguing that it's her "right" to be independent! I feel like I've thrown everything at this—weekly meetings with her school counselor (who actually told me that in her twenty-year career, she's never seen a parent as involved as I am—I'm there every single week, sometimes more!), deep conversations, reward systems, consequences, even mentioning the reality of future job prospects, and professional counseling... you name it, I've done it. And yet, it's like none of it registered. Now, I'm just sitting here feeling this intense resentment. She views every bit of guidance as me being controlling or stifling her personality—just typical teenage nonsense, really. We look so much alike physically, too, which seems to make her work even harder to distance herself from me; she even dyed her hair a completely opposite color just so she wouldn't resemble me. She claims she hates school because I value education, and she refuses to study just so she won't end up like me. I just have to ask—where does this end?
Nia got in through her connections. She was a straight-A student back in elementary school—honestly, a 4.0 GPA kind of kid—so getting into her current school was a breeze. But that’s actually where the trouble starts: she just doesn't care about anything anymore. It used to be so different! She was always sketching, attending art workshops, playing tennis, and taking language classes—her English is basically perfect, by the way. Then puberty hit, and suddenly, everything that once sparked her interest just vanished. Now? Her entire world revolves around hanging out at local coffee shops, a cigarette dangling from her lip, a beer in one hand, and some guy in the other. She won't read, she won't engage in hobbies, she's even stopped watching TV. She just retreats to her room to stare at the wall listening to loud, mindless pop music or stays glued to her phone—and even then, I usually have to practically force her to stay indoors. She’d much rather be out on the streets 24/7. On top of all that, she’s latched onto this "golden boy" who is six years older than her. He’s unemployed, has zero education, a criminal record for theft, and honestly, he has even less common sense than she does right now. Every single second she isn't in class, she’s with him. And if I dare ask her to help out with something around the house? She loses it—starts acting crazy and accuses me of being jealous. I feel like I've tried everything. I've driven her everywhere, opened every door possible, and offered endless opportunities just to see if something might finally click and reignite her passion. But she refuses to talk to me about her future, and heaven forbid I even mention school—she just shuts down and tunes me out completely. What would you do if you were dealing with a child like this?
My daughter decided she wanted to go to a prestigious prep school—completely her own choice. She’s really proud of the reputation there; she loves telling people she attends such an elite institution. But let's be real—don't expect to hear about any A's or B's, because she refuses to put in the work. I suggested other schools, but Miss High-and-Mighty won't settle for anything less, insisting she’s destined for college! My question to her? With what knowledge base and what kind of GPA? It isn't actually about the school itself, but rather her attitude—she wouldn't study even if she were enrolled in a seasonal lifeguard academy in the middle of winter. She just won't! She constantly insists she isn't studying just to spite me or because I nag her about academics. I haven't mentioned school once this year, and since she's been staying with her father for the last month, I haven't seen or heard from her much anyway. She has this habit where when she's at one parent's house, the other parent basically ceases to exist. Well, I called her homeroom teacher yesterday to check on her grades, and honestly, it was a disaster. She even has an F in music class. She can't see me, she won't listen to me, and even though I've stopped hovering over her studies, she still won't study. Part of me wants to just pull her out of school and send her straight into the workforce, but her father won't have it—so I guess I'm stuck with this headache for two more years. What happens after graduation? I have no idea, and I suspect she doesn't either. Maybe she thinks just existing is enough, and that someone will eventually hand her a high-paying job where she never has to lift a finger. My question is: when does this blissful puberty phase finally end? It all started back in eighth grade—fine, let her navigate her freshman year of high school, maybe sophomore year while she settles in... but what is this? We're in junior year, and her maturity level is exactly where it was in middle school—though, if I'm being honest, she actually seemed a bit sharper in third grade than she does now.
Honestly, we’ve tried absolutely everything at this point. A couple of days ago, she went over to her dad's place—you know, the one where he actually tries to set some boundaries and told her she couldn't go out. Well, being the rebel she is, she ended up climbing out of his ground-floor window in the middle of the night. I heard from a few friends that there was a full-on party going on all night long! Her dad eventually realized what was happening and actually nailed the window shut just so she couldn't sneak out again. So, what does she do? She slips out through the terrace instead, leaving the whole house wide open. And since they live right off a busy street, with a tiny baby in the house? It could have been anyone walking right in—it was incredibly risky. He gave her a massive earful afterward, but even that didn't seem to stick; if anything, she just came storming back to my place to make a point. I live on the second floor of my apartment building, so I figured escaping would be a bit more difficult from here—but clearly, I was wrong! If I tell her she can't go out, she just vanishes. I’ll lock the door, and what happens? She calls the neighbor who has a spare key and begs them to let her out. I’ve cut off the Wi-Fi, stopped giving her cash—I've tried it all. Nothing works. She simply does whatever she wants, and all I can do is pray she actually comes home safe, sane, and sober.
I feel like I’ve been navigating the teenage years through various stages of chaos with almost everyone in my orbit. First, there was my former brother-in-law—back when I married my brother, he was just ten and we all lived under one roof. Then came the divorce, followed by my marriage to a truly wonderful, patient man who has three sons from a previous marriage. So, here I am dealing with his three boys hitting their stride—he’s the one doing all the heavy lifting with them since their mom checked out—and my own daughter, who is right around the same age as his youngest. Even our friends' kids are in that same rough patch—mostly boys, too. But this whirlwind my daughter is currently putting us through? I have never seen anything quite like it. When you multiply all those variables together... well, it's overwhelming. I’ve stopped sweating the messy rooms, but the sheer defiance? That nearly knocked me off my feet. People actually ask me, "How can you let her talk to you like that?" and honestly, I’m trying my best to stand my ground, but I am reaching my breaking point. Her stubbornness, the mood swings, the outbursts, and that sudden surge of resentment... it's exhausting. It makes me wonder—are some people just born with a streak of malice? People love to say that children are simply reflections of their parents, but I can't bring myself to agree with that. This behavior she's displaying? She certainly didn't pick it up from us. There hasn't been a hint of drugs, smoking, drinking, or any kind of reckless behavior in our house—not even laziness or a lack of hygiene, despite how much of a mess she lives in. The part that truly drives me up the wall is how endless this feels! It’s like a marathon with no finish line. You find yourself hoping that tomorrow might bring a little peace, only to find that every day is actually getting harder. It’s enough to make anyone lose their mind!
I really hope you’re right and that there’s light at the end of the tunnel. Honestly, that little bit of hope is what keeps me going—though I just wish it wouldn't take forever to get there. It feels like it happens so suddenly, almost overnight. One evening, you have your sweet little angel tucked into bed, and by the next morning, you're dealing with a tiny, grumpy monster. Then come the lies. Just yesterday, they were the most honest kid in the world; now, you can't even trust your own ears when they look you in the eye. Before you even know what hit you, your house feels like a madhouse (especially if you're raising a daughter). Boys tend to burn off that frantic energy through sports, but girls? Their moods shift every three seconds from pure euphoria to total despair. One moment they're laughing and giving you a hug, and the next, they're slamming doors and throwing hysterics like they've been struck by lightning. Suddenly, "tidiness" is a foreign concept, schoolwork feels like science fiction, and every basic responsibility is treated like a heavy burden imposed by a tyrant. And when you're a single parent like me, all that redirected tension lands squarely on your shoulders—you become the scapegoat for everything. It’s terrifying; I am genuinely dreading the teenage years! Unfortunately, everyone seems to focus on one thing: how hard it is for the kids during puberty. Does anyone ever stop to ask the parents how *they* are doing, or how they're managing all this chaos? No one prepares you for the reality of what to expect, and nobody gives you a manual on how to handle it. All you can do is pray to Quincy that your child doesn't turn out like mine—or worse, veers toward something dark like self-harm.
Reading your post—where you basically tell me to go play outside!—I get the feeling you might have a kid who just hit puberty. Well, I have a daughter who’s been right in the middle of that storm for three or four years now, and if there is one thing I can tell you, it’s this: I would give anything to never live through it again. Honestly, I'm exhausted. During those few years, we went through absolutely everything—bad crowds, drugs, drinking, being reckless, constant defiance, hatred, failing classes, you name it. I truly, deeply wouldn't wish any of that on you. She’s 17 now, and she is head-over-heels in love with some total loser who already has four theft charges on his record; when he's around, she's completely deaf to the rest of the world. How am I coping? I take my Xanax and I pray to God that this phase passes, because at this point, there isn't much else left to do. Whatever you managed to teach her up until about age 12, you've done your part—now, just light a candle and pray to God that your child turns out a bit wiser than mine, and that they actually kept some of the values you spent a lifetime trying to instill. Believe me, I have tried every single thing under the sun, and after all that time—all that wasted energy, money, and sheer mental exhaustion—I’ve come to the conclusion that I am powerless.
I had a conversation with my daughter’s psychiatrist the other day—we were diving into the whole borderline personality disorder topic—and she made an interesting point. She mentioned that you can't really pin down a BPD diagnosis with absolute certainty until someone hits about 25 years old. Apparently, that's when all those developmental stages finally wrap up—you know, the physiological stuff and the hormonal shifts too. She went into much more technical detail than I could follow—mentioning things like neurotransmitters and brain myelin sheath maturation—but that was the gist of it. She also noted how some folks in America tend to over-diagnose it even in very young children; she actually shared a chilling case where a toddler as young as two and a half was labeled with it, and they ended up medicating them so heavily that it actually caused their death. For now, she’s ruled out BPD for my daughter, suggesting instead that she's dealing with depression and self-destructive tendencies. So, I suppose I'm just left waiting until she turns 25 to see what the official verdict will be.
We’ve been cycling through psychologists and psychiatrists for nearly three years now. It started with two different psychologists—she basically played them like toddlers, seeing each for a few months before deciding she was "done" with therapy altogether. Then we tried an eminent child psychiatrist, but she shut that down too. Even her school counselor worked with her for an entire year, yet we saw absolutely zero progress. Things eventually spiraled into a massive crisis—running away from home, drug use, self-harm... the works. She ended up in a pediatric ward in NYC. That experience actually shook her a bit, and things were relatively stable for a few months, but then the crises started creeping back in. Right now, she’s seeing a child psychiatrist who seems to have finally found a way to connect with her—at least, she hasn't rejected her yet (fingers crossed, right?) I’ve truly tried everything. I even went to therapy myself just to learn how to cope with this constant chaos. I consult specialists, I study every single day, and I listen to anyone who has walked this path, but I have to be honest—I am reaching my breaking point. Her father refuses to step up and help; instead, when those parental instincts should kick in, he tends to dismiss everything as nonsense and reacts quite harshly toward her. I pray to God that this phase finally passes and she can just reach maturity. That hope is really what keeps me going.
Just a quick heads-up—I’m a woman, just an ordinary mom (just so you know). To be honest, I realize that much of her behavior is really just a reflection of us—her parents. There is so much layered in there, isn't there? Between our divorce, the strained relationship she had with her father—whom she absolutely adored—and that lingering sense of abandonment... it's a lot. She has completely stepped into his role; she mimics his exact phrases, his conversational style, even his specific way of tackling problems. It's as if she's trying her hardest to inhabit his skin. She provokes me using his exact tactics—to such a granular level that I sometimes wonder if it's even possible? After all, she was just a little girl when we split up, so how does she know how to replicate certain things he used to say? I tried so hard to shield her from that dynamic, but it looks like I just couldn't quite manage it. As for her creativity—well, I've been trying to nurture it for years, but I haven't quite hit the mark. She is incredibly gifted; she paints beautifully, has a real knack for music, and is a wonderful writer. Her literary pieces are actually quite intense—so much so that her teacher says it takes her a good half hour to recover after reading one of her stories! I encourage her constantly, and she'll start something with such passion, but the moment she realizes she needs to put in more work, or when she sees actual results, or even when she notices me showing genuine interest or pride in what she's done... she just quits. It’s almost as if she's afraid of success. She's never satisfied with what she's achieved; she'll just say, "I don't know how to do this," or "I'm not doing this!" In principle, nothing seems to truly captivate her—she gives up on everything so quickly. I can't help but feel her life is a bit empty. Just sitting around at local coffee shops, seeing the same faces and the same cliques every day... boys seem like such a fleeting distraction that I can barely keep track of them. It breaks my heart to see her youth slipping away like this, without any real purpose.
I honestly hope not. Throughout all those therapy sessions, the term "borderline type" came up once in a while—but nobody ever actually put it in black and white as a formal diagnosis. Usually, they just write down that there's a behavioral disorder, whatever that's supposed to mean. It’s been incredibly draining for me; really, the only thing keeping me going is the hope that this will eventually pass and everything will settle back into place. I find myself tracking every single bit of progress she makes—celebrating the small wins like a kid. I know things are hard for her, but truthfully, it’s just as difficult for everyone else around her (the family)—people like that can end up tearing everything in their orbit apart.
I have a question. Is it actually possible to mistake Borderline Personality Disorder for just some intense teenage growing pains? To give you some context, I have a daughter who fits about 95% of the description for someone living with that disorder. She’s 16 and a half now, but things started shifting drastically when she was around 14—by last year, she had become a textbook example of this condition. It’s been everything—drugs, alcohol, boys, self-harm, suicidal manipulation... she’s even cycled through four or five different therapists, running away from every single one as soon as they get close enough to actually understand her world. She’s constantly reliving the past, stuck on old grievances, has zero trust in anyone, stays superficial in her relationships, and is incredibly self-centered—basically, she thinks she's the center of the universe. However, while she’s still having crises this year, it feels like they are finally starting to taper off. There's no more drugs (well, I hope not!) and she’s settled down her social circle; she doesn't go out nearly as much, and overall, she seems much more composed than she was last year. The one thing she absolutely refuses to do? Study—even though she is incredibly bright. Aside from that, things are slowly stabilizing. She is still an extremely difficult and demanding person to be around, and she still has those sudden crashes and outbursts, but they are far less frequent and much less intense than they were last year. We finally found a therapist who uses a completely different approach—all her previous ones just catered to her whims, which allowed her to manipulate them like they were little clowns. This new therapist actually challenges her, pushes her buttons, and provokes her into thinking; yet, for some reason I can't quite wrap my head around, she actually respects her and won't walk away. Is it possible for this disorder to manifest during puberty and then naturally subside as she moves into adulthood? And is there such a thing as "stages" or varying levels of severity for this condition?
Hey everyone, I have one more question for you all. How long did you end up staying on those antidepressants? My doctor is suggesting a six-month course, but honestly—does that seem like an eternity to anyone else?
Oh, come on now! David Nelson74, it’s easy for you to say, but it really isn't that simple. Sure, maybe once or twice—even five times—people might be patient enough to listen and understand, but anything beyond that becomes a real struggle. Just shut my brain off??? 😕 How would I even do that? If I actually knew how to do that—or if I had been able to—I wouldn't even be in a position where I need to take an antidepressant. On one hand, they help; I feel so much better, I'm crying less, I'm stronger, and things don't get under my skin as easily. But on the other hand... it’s almost like I’ve become numb. I love my husband and he loves me—he’s truly a wonderful man, my partner, my best friend, and my lover—and I really don't want to let him down. Maybe the best thing would be to just stop taking them altogether? 😢
I’m right there with you!🙂 Honestly, this is starting to feel like a bit of an issue. Not for me personally—I could honestly keep going like this indefinitely—but how on earth am I supposed to explain to my husband that he's basically at my beck and call for the foreseeable future?