Mother's little helper redux
Sat Dec 08, 2007 at 11:57:51 PM PDT
Last summer, catching up on the goings-on after a week in blazing hot and muggy Mexico, I read on CNN.com that Al Gore III was arrested recently for possession of -- in addition to marijuana -- Vicodin, Xanax, Valium and Adderall. Oh my! The article pointed out that prescription drug use is becoming more prevalent among the young than even good ol' pot.
Prescription drug abuse is particularly common among upper middle class students, according to Lisa Jack, a clinical psychologist at Augsburg College in Minneapolis, Minnesota. "It just goes to show that where you're from doesn't matter," Jack said. (I hope she isn't speaking geographically).
The article goes on to admonish parents to lock our medicine chests so that vulnerable offspring will be adequately protected from evil.
Okay, done. But it seems to me that psychologists should be asking, "Why are upper middle class bathrooms filled with an array of pretty-colored mood-altering pills in the first place?"
Welcome to the world of the upper middle class housewife. We take our children's ADHD medication Adderall (basically speed) to get through the morning rush and the long list of daily chores. Valium (a tranquilizer) around 3 p.m. to take off the remaining Adderall edge and get through the afternoon kid activities with a smile. Xanax before stressed-out husband walks through the door assessing performance and demanding moral support and a lovely dinner.
After the kids are safely tucked in, Vicodin (an opioid) gives the same buzz as the 2 or 3 glasses of wine that we used to be able to handle easily, but which now lead to belly fat which, face it, is not only unsightly but downright unhealthy.
What the young ones apparently haven't discovered yet is that Ambien at bedtime puts one into a nice dreamless coma that lasts until the alarm bell goes off and the cycle begins again.
I bet that you wish you could be-e-e half as lucky as me-e-e.
Addendum: Last night I watched a documentary called God Grew Tired of Us. It was about the Lost Boys of Sudan, a group of 27,000 young men between the ages of 5 and 10, who walked over a thousand miles to escape massacre in their homeland. By the time they reached Kenya, 15,000 of them had died.
A number of the young men had the incredible good fortune of coming to the United States. They were spread out over the country and given food and shelter for a number of months. They were expected to find gainful employment and become strong and self-sufficient. Their gratitude for the opportunity brought tears to my eyes.
Within a year many of these young men were despondent. They lamented that they were isolated from their support groups. They had little time for fun, for meaningful human interaction. They worked long hours and slept little. They had survived nearly unimaginable hardship in Africa, but they were being crushed by the American Dream. Still they knew they were "lucky."
This leads me to my point. Many of the women I know have given up careers and other interests to tend a family. Most of us are married to very driven and successful men. Men who work long hours and are rarely home. We live in large houses on big lots. I have lived in the same house for 15 years and I can't tell you the names of the neighbors two doors down.
Our children are high achievers. My 17-year-old daughter and 14-year-old son leave for school at 6 a.m. They are expected to get good grades, play sports and musical instruments, compete in tournaments, do charity work. It is assumed that they will go to an elite university and make their families proud.
When mothers begin to bend from the pressure, we visit one of the psychiatrists in town who understands our plight. We have a hard time getting up in the morning, we say. We feel anxious. We can't sleep. He says that our husbands are narcissists and hands us a couple prescriptions.
When our children don't perform well, or exhibit unruly behavior, he doesn't ask why. He says they have ADHD, or they are exhibiting signs of bipolar disorder. He gives us more prescriptions.
Of course this is not true for all of us. Many of us meet regularly to hike. We are devotees of whole foods and good nutrition. We are in book clubs and playgroups and women's organizations. But, in truth, we are careful not to reveal too much. Maintaining the illusion of near perfection is still important to most of us. And to our husbands and kids.
So it's true. We do have many mood-altering pills in our medicine chests. They hide a number of societal realities that should be brought into the light. As is often the case with western medicine, we are happy to treat symptoms and ignore the underlying causes of the illness. Seeking wholeness, authenticity, support, fun, freedom, and overall wellness would go a long way to keeping those drugs out of the hands of upper middle class teenagers.
I hope this clarifies the diary's intent.
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