What's the route of ADHD?

In Gabor's book, he talks about the pattern he found with every case of ADHD. A pattern of stress in the family home, especially during the first few years of a child's life. A pattern of ADHD kids and adults all having the same problem of coping with emotions. He notes how children's brains can't develop properly without the right conditions.

Although Gabor believes all cases stem from the environment, at least that's the impression I got, however, I do believe genes have a part to play. I don't remember where I read this, but I had heard how genes do carry survival tactics. The kind of survival, like how a baby knows how to feed, cry for attention, etc., that's something they're born with, passed-down knowledge engraved in their genes. I'd read somewhere that when people have children while suffering from unresolved trauma, they can pass down their coping techniques. I may have to find that info for another blog post, but I wholeheartedly agree the environment plays the biggest part, and is the key to healing.

When I was a baby, my mum was very stressed. Her partner, my biological dad, was abusive, not just to her but to me as well. My mum said she can remember the sound of my voice shaking when he would shake me for crying. I can only imagine my mum's frame of mind, knowing my mum loves her kids, and feeling powerless to do anything. My earliest memory was a black leather belt, folded in half, being snapped together because I wouldn't poop on the potty. The next memory was glass breaking from a door slamming. I had a happy childhood. I do have one memory of an older boy; I must have been around 6, doing something he shouldn't in my pants. I don't remember what exactly, but I know it was wrong. My mum, although she loves us and we are the most important things in her life, I don't feel has been there for us emotionally. I know she was cuddly when we were little, but it sort of phased out as we got older. My mum said she worried that we would feel how she did with her mum. My mum would feel repulsed when her mum hugged her. My dad (not the sperm donor) was the joker. He loves us too but had banter and wasn't there emotionally. You know the banter, you draw a picture of a frog, it's a good frog, and he laughs and says, 'What's that, a horse?' He doesn't see the harm; he's just playing. My dad also has a very, very short fuse. Lord help you if you try and have a different opinion to him.

When I was pregnant with my first son, there was an occasion where his dad had his hands around my throat. When he was born, I instantly fell in love; he was the prettiest baby boy I had ever seen. His dad had his own problems, unable to control his temper, diagnosed with ADHD. He said he can't hold newborns, worked away with the army until he was home on the weekends. I would spend nearly every day at my mum's with my son. My mum enjoyed helping me and spending time with her first grandson. I started getting really depressed and relying on my mum too much. My son's dad was abusive, more mentally than physically. The only physical thing he did was the throat thing, and when he had our son in his arms, he threw a dummy at me. I ended the relationship when our son was 1. I went into deeper depression, getting up to no good, even telling my mum I didn't want my son anymore.

While depressed, I got talking to my second son's dad when my eldest was 2. He lifted me up. Over the next year, I found myself pregnant. Our relationship was on and off as he too had anger problems, worse than the first, diagnosed with ODD and ADHD. We separated during my pregnancy. When my second was born, I was severely stressed and depressed. His dad wouldn't leave me alone, and at 2 weeks old, he began screaming for hours at a time each day. I couldn't put him down and had to sleep with him upright on my chest. At age 1, I was forced to let him go to his dad's overnight every Friday until Saturday. He would be screaming when his dad took him, then absolutely hate me when he came home. I would have to spend a full day making friends with him.

During my pregnancy with my 3rd child, I was not that stressed. My relationship with his dad wasn't that bad; we had a few problems, such as his moods – he seemed depressed a lot of the time. I decided to breastfeed my 3rd, as the screaming from my second was due to a milk allergy. I bonded really well with my 3rd; he made me feel extremely happy. However, when he was 9 months old, I became aware that his dad had an addiction to gambling and cocaine. We separated, and by 15 months, his dad took his own life. I was severely stressed during this time, and I felt blamed by the community.

Each one of my children had a different mum bringing them up, and each child's behavior is different. My stress levels during their early years directly mirror the severity of their behavior to this day. My two eldest had severe enough behavior for a diagnosis, and my youngest seems okay. I say 'seems' because he is painfully shy, but not 'naughty.' All of these experiences were fueled by uncontrollable emotions. To really get it, we have to be able to self-reflect, which we can talk about in the next blog. We also have to understand that nothing is just plain old black and white; it's multicolor...

Thank you for reading, the next part is just below...