Rhonda has always been an easygoing and compassionate child. Her biggest problem was staying out of the way of her younger brother, who’s been, well, a parenting challenge, practically from the day he was born. As a baby, he was fussy and seemed to be super-sensitive to loud noises or scratchy clothing. As he grew to be a toddler, we were impressed with how quickly he learned new skills — and how very little it took to set him off into a major tantrum.

In middle school, he excelled in art and music classes, but didn’t seem to have much luck in finding or keeping friends. He also got moodier, gave up music, and his artwork grew darker. We realized, sadly, that we couldn’t trust him because he lies — and he seems to show absolutely no remorse for anything he does wrong.

Last year he started talking a lot about wanting to die — but then other times he’s jumpy, “up” and almost maniacally happy. Those times worry me as much as the low ones, because they’re always followed by an emotional crash. Sometimes he acts as if I’m just dirt and looks at me with pure hatred; then, for no reason I can figure out, he’ll be incredibly sweet.

I feel guilty about it, but I’ve started searching his room. So far, I haven’t found anything that points to drug use.

Bryan used to do pretty well in school, but now we get calls from his teachers almost every week because of his peculiar, inappropriate, or antisocial behavior. Last week, he put his jacket over his head and refused to come out from under during his entire math class. The week before, he was called into the principal’s office for drawing swastikas on the walls (he said he liked the geometry of the design).

The tantrums he had as a youngster didn’t go away and turned into violent rages as the teen years hit. I’ve hidden all the knives, and there are nights that we barricade our bedroom with a chair. Sometimes we feel like prisoners in our own house.

It also worries me that even our pets are afraid of him.

People kept telling us we were being alarmists, and that he was just violent because “boys are like that.” We finally took him to a couple of therapists who said he was depressed. I guess he proved that last month: He sliced his wrists, wrote “DEATH AT LAST” all over his walls with his own blood, and spent a week in the local mental hospital. The doctor there put him on Paxil (20 mg) for the depression and told us she suspects he has Borderline Personality Disorder.

I’d never heard of BPD, but it didn’t sound so bad — borderline means he’s not over the edge, yet — right? Wow, was I wrong. I’ve been doing some reading (“I Hate You, Don’t Leave Me,” “Stop Walking on Eggshells,” “Lost in the Mirror,” “Hope For Parents”), and now I know we need advice from other parents who’ve been where we are now.

I guess what we need even more than advice is support. Both our families live elsewhere, and there’s really no one we can talk to, I mean REALLY talk to, about Bryan, about how lonely we feel. We’ve tried our very best to be good people, worthy citizens, and responsible parents. What went wrong??

We love our son…but this sure is hard!!!!

Melinda