The Gene Tool
Posted by fxckfeelings on June 19, 2014
We all wish we could leave our kids lots of wealth, property, and maybe a senate seat, but instead they just end up with our receding hairlines and bad metabolisms. For those of us with especially poisonous genes, it’s hard to know how much or little to warn your kids about what they might be in for. On the one hand, you don’t want to make them feel different or doomed, but on the other hand, you don’t want to nag them so much that they rebel and tempt their genetic fate. In either case, you can help kids understand and manage their genetic risks if you can stay calm and stick with the facts. You can’t get kids to do what you want, no matter what their genes, but you can help them think rationally about scary problems and teach them your methods for living with risks and leading a meaningful life, no matter what kind of gut or estate they end up with.
–Dr. Lastname
Mental illness runs in my family—I take antidepressants and my mother is on lithium—and now I’m really afraid that my fifteen-year-old son is showing signs of having the family disease. We’re a really close family, including my mother, but this is just not a subject we talk about. I want to get help for my son, but I don’t want him to feel like I’m trying to control him, nor do I want to spook him about how he’s going to be a psycho all his life. My goal is to tell him something that gets him to accept help.
Lots of disorders are hereditary—near-sightedness, sickle cell, that thing where you think cilantro tastes like soap—but few are quite as stigmatized as mental illness. After all, nobody is ashamed for having or passing on genes that make you dislike most gazpacho.
Then again, if you’ve managed to keep the stigma of mental illness from keeping you from seeking treatment for yourself, you shouldn’t let fear or shame keep you from reaching out to your son. You’ve managed depression for many years, and even though you didn’t intend to pass this on to your son, you can at least give him the benefit of your experience.
The fact that you’re his father need not interfere with your ability to help, as long as you don’t allow worries to cause you to pressure him. Instead, give him information and tell him how to think about mental illness, but don’t tell him what to do. That’s because telling him what to do is the best way to get him to do exactly the opposite; every directive has an equal and opposite reaction is basically Newteen’s Third Law.
Ask him about depressive symptoms the same way you’d ask about stomach flu: clinically and free of judgment. By teaching him about possible symptoms in this manner, like negative thinking, irritability, social withdrawal, low motivation and poor concentration, you’re implying that they have nothing to do with him, even though, like most depressives, he probably feels responsible for the way they’ve impaired his academic performance, damaged his social life, or filled him full of pessimism about his future.
Erect a wall between him and his illness that identifies those fears about a gloomy future and an unlikeable self as hiccups in his brain, much like migraine headaches, that are very painful but have no other meaning. After all, nobody’s “at fault” when they have to wear glasses or refuse a garnish.
Take full responsibility for his illness—the genes are yours—then pass it on to his grandmother (that’s called blaming the previous administration). While you’re at it, though, remind him that the emotion genes may also have given you and your mother valuable gifts and skills. They hurt, but, like his future, they’re not all bad.
Make it clear that talking about depression or “getting help” doesn’t imply that you think he should get shrunk or talk to anyone about his feelings; he should talk about his feelings only if he thinks it’s a good idea, with the understanding that it won’t cure depression. It’s good, though, to talk about ways of fighting negative thoughts and other symptoms, and since you’ve found it helpful to talk with a knowledgeable professional who’s a good coach, he might want to try it.
If you think he’s suicidal, ask about suicide thoughts in the same way you’d ask him whether his bowels have moved. Create a context in which suicide thoughts are just symptoms, not evidence of failure or reason for panic.
You may well have reason to worry, but try not to share your fears. Instead, speak to your advisors, consult your experience, and come up with advice you can present calmly and confidently, even if it involves an immediate visit to the emergency room. By the time you’re finished, he should be aware of his choices and they should no longer appear mysterious or frightening.
Adolescence is full of painful talks, and a discussion of his genes shouldn’t be one of them. Talking to your son about depression might be awkward, but it’s necessary, and if you treat his inherited sadness as if it’s the same as inherited issues with soup, then his number one therapist/dad will be you.
STATEMENT:
“I want to make sure my son gets help for symptoms that can get dangerous, but I know a lot about treatments that help depression, including methods for fighting negative thoughts. I won’t pressure him with fear or guilt. I will teach him what I know and share my confidence in his ability to live with depression and lead a full life.”
My father was an alcoholic, so I was careful to stay away from drinking, and now that my young adult son has started to drink, it’s driving me crazy. I’ve given him literature about the genetics of alcoholism and warned him about the dangers of developing a habit he can’t stop, but he laughs at me and tells me he has not trouble stopping and he doesn’t get into any trouble. He’s in college now, so he’s started going to parties on weekends and having a beer with dinner, but he doesn’t have hangovers or miss class and can stop any time he wants, so he thinks he’s fine. My goal is to get through to him before it’s too late.
You’re right to alert your son to his genetic risk of alcoholism, but sharing anxiety with kids often drives them to prove their independence by doing whatever it is you (and they) are nervous about, particularly when it’s an adults-only activity that bonds them with peers (see Newteen’s Law, above). You can’t scare him straight, but if you’re patient, you can exert your influence in other ways.
Instead of insisting that the only way to avoid Alcoholmageddon is to abstain completely, express confidence in his ability to manage himself and identify early signs of alcoholism, if it develops. Don’t lie, but do praise him for his strengths in managing his own life, making a living, and being a good, realistic problem solver. Even if abstinence was his best chance, this attitude is still your best chance to help him.
Consult experts if need be, or attend Alanon meetings, and gather information you can share with him about risk criteria for alcoholism. Specify criteria he can use to monitor himself, like noticing whether he has hangovers or after-drinking regrets for poor or dangerous decisions.
Having debated criteria for defining risk, tell him, without anger or smugness, if you see signs that his risk is rising. Don’t say his behavior worries you and imply that he should feel guilty for making you unhappy, but that you think it should worry him. Then wait and hope, either that you’re wrong or that you’re right and he recognizes it next time around.
Mute your worries, so that he feels pressured by nothing other than reality. Don’t hesitate to share your view of reality and wait patiently until it bears out your predictions. With luck, he will benefit from your good coaching if, indeed, he starts to slip into alcoholism, and will listen to your advice about treatment when he needs it. Just don’t push him too hard, because you’ll push him in the wrong direction, and push yourself to the edge of sanity.
STATEMENT:
“Worrying about my son’s slide into the family disease is driving me crazy, but trying to control him won’t work and drives me even crazier. I will educate myself about the illness and methods for talking about it. I’ll accept worry as an unavoidable part of being his parent. I will make sure he knows how to monitor alcoholism, monitor it myself, and advise him as necessary. I will respect myself for doing a good job, regardless of whether he ever gets sober or I can ever stop worrying.”