My son is going through a really difficult time right now. It is one of the most heartbreaking things I've had to endure with him so far. His mood swings are horrifying.

Fortunately, we have a good psychiatrist on board and we are in communication with him every day. Ian's teachers are being tremendously supportive, not just of him but of me as well. Everyone is working together to help him through this.

I am not willing to throw massive doses of pills at him and hope for the best. We have to go slowly to make sure we get just the right dose, one drug at a time. That takes patience. He has none, and mine is wearing thin.

I've never been afraid of a little kid before, but my own son scares me. We are watching him closely. Most of the time he seems o.k. and we feel we are on the right track, making progress slowly. But today he rocked my world, and not in a good way.

It's getting to the point that I dread the end of the school day. Even when everything in his school folder shows excellent work and a great day behind him, it takes just a second for the switch to flip and he spirals uncontrollably downward.

I used to be able to calm him. Now he says everything is my fault. I know that isn't true. Much of his frustration is due to his inability to find fairness in the world - fairness as he defines it, which includes no school, no homework, unlimited screen time, and all the toys his heart desires. Sounds like a typical kid.

But Ian truly expects the world to give this to him. He cannot understand that school not only is required, but it is important. Every morning he goes to school with no argument; but something happens during the day that makes his perspective change. I think it has something to do with being around unpredictable people and circumstances.

Sure, there is a schedule at school. But any place there are people, things are going to interfere with the perfectly planned schedule. Something as simple as having to stay inside from recess because of the rain can change the day for him. Or maybe it's a fire drill. Or they ran out of blue jell-o at lunch. Or someone bumped him in line. Anything.

He can't control any of it. Neither can I. And it's driving us both crazy.