When my son John is "on diet", he is a wonderful, caring child who is kind to everyone. However, the wrong foods can produce a Jekyll/Hyde transformation. His frustration threshold drops to near zero and the slightest inconvenience makes him furious. He is angry about everything and cannot control his temper. He has no concept of right and wrong, and consequences, even immediate consequences, will not redirect his behavior. It's hard to believe that a bowl of oatmeal can have such a profound effect, but in some cases it does.
Consider a food experiment we performed last summer. After several days of good behavior I gave John oatmeal for breakfast. I know he reacts to gluten grains, but I like to rerun food experiments from time to time, to make sure the results are reproduceable (the gold standard of science). Within a few hours he was standing on his head on the bed, legs flailing all about. His insecure baby voice was back. "Me going to explode. Me feel like me going to explode. Give me a cawdbode box - me need to break something." For the sake of his room we did as he asked, and he began ripping the box to shreds.
Actually this is a remarkable achievement. He's never been able to verbalize his internal feelings before, and he certainly hasn't had the power to redirect his anger towards a cardboard box. His burgeoning intelligence is helping him control the insanity when it descends upon him. Of course the best strategy is still one of prevention, so we'll be avoiding gluten for the foreseeable future.
Now fast forward a year. I decided to run the test again. After all, some people outgrow their sensitivities. I made some cookies from scratch: oatmeal, butter, sugar, salt, baking soda. I told him to "eat a lot", so we'd have a definitive answer. The next morning he began to hit himself as hard as he could. "I have to do it. I just have to." This is the first time I've seen self-destructive behavior. I had to restrain him for several hours, until I deemed it safe to let him go. At one point he was able to step out of his insanity, just for a moment, and talk to me. "Oh Daddy, it's huge! Really huge! Next time I want to run a smaller test, not so many cookies. It's all your fault." And then he was gone again. By evening he could play with his toys in his room alone, but he remained insecure and defiant for several days thereafter. I think I'll take his advice. Next year we'll just eat one or two cookies and see what happens.
Gluten grains produce anger and frustration, but too much sugar removes all judgment and reason, as though intoxicated. Everything is hilarious. Utter the word "bathroom" and you're in for 15 minutes of sophomoric humor. Of course the aforementioned cookies contained both gluten and sugar, hence the huge reaction. (More on sugar in a future article.)
John's diet is restricted in other ways, besides gluten and sucrose. We're still working out the precise formula, so I'm not going to present it here. One thing's for sure, eating out is almost impossible, and that drives him crazy. Pizza parties at school, ice cream socials, trips to McDonalds; he is excluded from all of these. Well I can't change the food-obsessed school system, much as I'd like to, so we just have to muddle through. As I keep reminding him, and myself, we eat to live, we don't live to eat.
To be fair, his teachers aren't entirely wrong. There are days when his behavior can be redirected. I like to explain it this way. Imagine you are told you must go through your day with a 50 pound sack on your back. As an adult in good shape, you could probably do it. However, if the sack weighs 100 pounds or more, or if you are a small child, it is simply too much to bear. It isn't about "making good choices" any more. There is no choice, as you collapse under the weight.
I have a good friend who has learned, over the years, to carry 100 pounds of adhd around with him - inside of him- and nobody knows the difference. He carries it well, but I can see it. I can tell as the conversation shifts and he is unable to follow, because he is busy holding the demons at bay. I can tell when I contrast his high intelligence with his limited education. It's hard to concentrate in class while holding 100 pounds over your head. He finally got his bachelor's degree, as he nears his 30th birthday. I've talked to him about diet, about ways to lighten the load. If it were just 50 pounds, think how far he could go. But it's too late for him to change his lifestyle now. He has made a conscious decision to continue on, carrying the weight and eating anything he likes. That's his choice, and it's an informed choice, and I respect it.
If John ate a typical American diet, his ADHD would weigh 500 pounds. Nobody could manage this much insanity - not even an adult. And medications don't seem to help (see the next article). Over the course of four years I have reduced his burden by 80%, but he's still a child, still unable to carry the remaining 100 pounds on his back. When we've done everything right, and he's only carrying 50 pounds, behavior management works. The teachers see this, and tell me that he does indeed respond to operant conditioning. If he acts up, that's his choice, and if he follows directions, that's also his choice. This is true, on a good day, and that shows how far we've come. However, sometimes we make mistakes, or test new foods, or chance a restaurant, simply because we are tired of cooking. Sometimes John is carrying 100 pounds or more, and on those days, there is no choice - there is no control.
As I look to the future I believe the two curves will eventually cross. Each month we learn more about his diet. We know how much wheat he can eat before he gets in trouble, and how much sugar, and so on. At the same time he is growing in intelligence and maturity. Each year he can carry more weight. Soon he will be able to manage the remainder of his disorder, the portion that cannot be controlled by diet. Needless to say, we are looking forward to that day.