On this blog and in my new book, Dosed: The Medication Generation Grows Up, I explore young people’s experiences with medication. And oftentimes, by exposing their ambivalence, even their resentment, toward their treatment from an early age, I end up implicitly questioning the value of early intervention for mental illness.

So in honor of the American Psychological Association’s Mental Health Month Blog Party Day, I want to address the question of whether I think early intervention is worth it.

How many kids take medications for mental health problems in the U.S. these days?

It’s a simple question, and one I’ve been getting asked a lot lately as I’ve been interviewed about my new book, Dosed: The Medication Generation Grows Up, about coming of age on psychiatric drugs.

And I’ve been embarrassed to hem and haw and not to have a single, easy answer.

Because here’s the thing: There are a lot of piecemeal stats from a lot of different sources, but they vary wildly, and there’s no single, unassailable source.

If some particularly controlling parents knew psychiatric medications were likely to have certain side effects, might they purposely inflict such treatment on their children as a way of controlling some of their offspring’s more unruly tendencies? Like, say, their kids’ rampant youthful sexuality?

That was the dystopian scenario some readers posed in response to my last blog post about psychiatric medications and sexual side effects.

I have to admit, it struck me as perhaps a little far-fetched that parents would put their children on medications solely for the side effects.

But, still, I wondered: If given a choice between two similar drugs, one with such side effects and one without, might a nervous parent not gravitate toward the medication that would quell their fears about burgeoning teenage sexuality?

In this blog, I have been writing about different facets of “the experience of medication” in young people who take psychiatric drugs for a variety of conditions.

I’m going to continue to do that, because there are many more topics I want to discuss (please feel free, as always, to make suggestions in the comments section if there are particular subjects you’d like me to write about).

However, if you’d like to read an account of what got me interested in this subject in the first place, you might want to check out the excerpt from my new book, Dosed: The Medication Generation Grows Up, which is over at Salon.com.

In my last post I blogged about the decision whether or not to disclose to a significant other that you are taking medication. For this post, I said I would write about when both members of a couple are taking meds – but when one is an old hand and one is a relative newbie.

To my knowledge, there are no studies explicitly looking at this topic, but I think it would certainly make for an interesting line of research to look at the differing effects on identity. If I were a researcher, the central question I’d ask would be: Do people who begin taking meds at younger age feel that the drugs are more integral to their sense of self than those who begin them when their identities are already fully formed?

A little while back, I asked readers to share their experiences with medication. CJ, who first took medication at age 12 and is now 21, was kind enough to write in. At 12, CJ had self-harmed and was suicidal, which was the initial impetus for drug treatment.

Some medications have helped with those tendencies, some only exacerbated them – a controversial topic I’ve addressed in previous posts.

Eight years later, mood swings and sleep continue to be problematic, and antidepressant and antipsychotic medications that help with these issues are ones CJ considers to work. Forgetting the drugs for even a day has alarming results, and CJ sees medication as necessary for living a “normal” life.

Despite reservations about lifelong medication treatment, CJ fears that doctors will think the medications have cured the disorders and stop drug therapy, triggering a frightening breakdown. Another lingering worry – and one I found particularly poignant – concerns meeting someone and falling in love, only to have the person leave upon finding out about CJ’s diagnoses and medications. Even with a team of doctors, therapists and other mental health professionals and a cocktail of medications, this young person sees a long road ahead to recovery and many obstacles ahead.

If you would like to share any aspect of your experience taking medication from a young age, please feel free to email me at kaitlin.b.barnett [@] gmail.com. And now, in CJ’s words:

In the ever-fraught public discussion of kids and psychiatric medication, the proper role of school administrators and teachers often comes up. What teachers should or shouldn’t say to parents about medication treatment for their students is an understandably touchy subject.

Many parents are wary of being told to medicate their child because an overwhelmed teacher “can’t deal” or because medication would be cheaper than providing special services.

Teachers and administrators, though, are are in their own bind. They may have opinions about what would be best for the kid – going on a drug for the first time, adjusting a dosage, trying a new out-of-school therapy – but they are also wary of meddling.

The subject is so delicate that at one point about a decade ago, a number of states even passed resolutions seeking to ban teachers from mentioning medications to parents.

Ten years later, the landscape has shifted a little, partly because of the demographics of the teacher workforce. Many of today’s young teachers were yesterday’s medicated kids.

A reader, whom I’ll call ES, has generously provided the following account of her experience with antipsychotic drugs, starting when she was 13. I think she provides a very nuanced perspective.

Preparing to write this post, I started to survey the media coverage of the latest report from pharmacy giant Medco on how many Americans are taking psychiatric medications. The straight news coverage was okay, but many others simply used the report as a chance to declare - again -that Americans are “overmedicated.”

I don’t see how you can you honestly declare that a whole country, or even any particular group, is “overmedicated” unless you can also determine what number would constitute “appropriately medicated.” Not surprisingly, few people sounding off on either this report or the larger issue are willing to make such a call.