A Drugged Child Horror Story

In which a mother is threatened with the removal of her children on charges of child abuse if she didn't drug here kids: As seen here Bookmark and print out the article in case you need a reference in your own struggles.

If a stranger on the street came up to me and my child with a package of cocaine and offered to give my child a free month's supply, I'd have him arrested. AFTER I beat the living mess out of him. How DARE someone I don't know offer dangerous, mind altering drugs to my child with me standing right there?

[The story is much too long to quote in full here. Click on the link to read the blow by blow horror story]

With that, the meeting ended, and once I got home and had time to think, I called the psychiatrist who REFUSED to read medical reports, look at proof of brain injury or heed advice from another psychiatrist who specialized in brain injured children and left a rather harsh message, stating she had SIX WEEKS to wean my son from the Risperdal or I was coming in full barrel with a lawyer and a malpractice suit.

The very next day, I was called by Child Protective, who has now agreed to give me my son back, stating they agreed with me that I was right all along on my son's actual diagnosis. On that day, I sat on the floor, unable to answer, phone still in my hand, years of fighting, years of severe anger outbursts from a child over-medicated and not knowing why his little body was hurting so bad, missed weeks and weeks of not being able to hold my baby boy, and years of battling for my rights as the child's parent, nights and nights of holding a crying child because he didn't know what was happening, years of struggling just to make ends meet and constantly worrying about rent, utilities, food, years of research to finally prove my point all came flooding out, silent tears flowing down my cheeks as I'd finally, I'd FINALLY won. Or HAD I?

Just earlier that week, I had a note from my youngest boy's teacher, who stated my little clown could not and would not sit still in class, and perhaps could benefit from a drug like Ritalin. I busted out laughing, still holding the phone, not caring if Child Protective heard or not, and FRANKLY, my dear, I didn't give a damn .