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When my son was in fifth grade during the mid-1990s, I took in his classmate as a foster child under emergency circumstances. His official diagnoses at the time was Explosive Personality Disorder, along with some educational issues. They had him heavily medicated on Neurontin - but because of the emergency situation, I was never given authority to obtain the medicine. Neurontin was originally developed as an anti-seizure medication, but the company found other uses (i.e., marketing the side effects).
He lived with us for a year. During that time, I never ONCE saw any indication of an Explosive Personality Disorder. After he left our home, he was placed back on Neurontin.
We've stayed in touch over the years, and he's an adult now. I still consider him a son. That anti-seizure medication never improved his so-called personality disorder. Instead, he now suffers from a horrible SEIZURE DISORDER. Because of this, he needs to live in a group home and is basically considered an outcast in the community. It's difficult for him to find employment, he is unable to drive, and he can't live alone. Because of his painful and debilitating seizures, I now see traces of an "explosive personality disorder." I can't blame him. It hurts to see how life treated that sweet kid - and to think of what could have been.
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