All posts tagged: neurodevelopment

Is Separating Neurodevelopment and Mental Health Services Helpful?

Is Separating Neurodevelopment and Mental Health Services Helpful?

Neurodevelopmental conditions are defined in the fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5)1 and the 11th edition of the International Classification of Diseases (ICD-11)2 as conditions that arise early in development. They include attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), autism, intellectual disabilities, communication disorders, specific learning disorders (e.g., dyslexia), and motor disorders that include developmental co-ordination disorder (and tic disorders in the case of DSM-5). Conceptual Differences There is a rationale for grouping these conditions3 insofar as they typically arise early in development, although they may not be identified until later. Neurodevelopmental conditions show strong overlap with each other and share risk factors in common, including family history and genetic liability. Typically, the clinical course of neurodevelopmental conditions, except for tic disorders, tends to change with maturation but otherwise usually shows a relatively steady state, rather than display a remitting and relapsing pattern. They also do not behave as clear-cut yes/no diagnostic categories; rather, they each lie on a continuum. Finally, neurodevelopmental conditions often are associated with educational differences and challenges. This spectrum …

Every Morning My Son Shuts Down At Drop-Off — And I Can’t Reach Him

Every Morning My Son Shuts Down At Drop-Off — And I Can’t Reach Him

In the car, he’s a chatterbox. He kicks his legs, narrates the passing world, asks about pipes in buildings and whether vacuum cleaners live inside walls, laughs at his own jokes. And then we pull up to the school. The door opens, cold air slips in, and something in him folds.  His eyes turn glassy. His body droops. He won’t look at his sister or at me. She leans forward and says, “Poka, Roma!” our little Russian goodbye, soft and cheerful. I say, “Ya tebya lyublyu, Romachka,” I love you, my little Roma. And from him sometimes I get a whisper of “poka,” so quiet it barely exists outside his breath. It happens every day. The shift is always the same. Every morning, I watch something in him recede. Not a different child appearing, but the same one quietly closing a door only he can see. The drop-off is where reality shatters through every illusion I had that morning.  When he walks away, I feel like I’m staring into an abyss I don’t have the language …