The questions.

The questions

On Friday Poss woke up and refused to go to school. Flat out refused. Since she started at the new school just over a year ago, I can count the amount of times she’s done this on one hand.

But I remember those mornings well; the tears, the crying, the screaming. Both of us fighting, draining every last bit of us physically and emotionally before the day had even begun. I’d drop her at school and then cry all the way to work, praying that tomorrow would be better.

Inevitably most days we’d get a call to come and get her. There was no way she was going to be able to cope with a full day of school after running the gauntlet before we’d even left the house.

Other days I’d cave and she’d spend the day at home. We’d try and do some homework and pretend like it wasn’t a weekly occurrence.

I’d cry down the phone to my mum; “don’t be angry with her” she’d caution. I wasn’t angry, I was just exhausted, frustrated and confused. And if that’s how I felt, I can’t even begin to imagine what Poss was feeling.

There didn’t seem to be an easy way out. There wasn’t. Every week compounded the damage, week on week, day on day. Compressing us, stretching us, moulding us into something different. A different that was harsh and hard; the morning battles tainting every other part of our day.

I’m not being melodramatic when I say that changing schools changed our lives. It wasn’t simple and it wasn’t easy, but over the last year she’s settled and we’re finally beginning to exhale, the tension leaving our shoulders.

So when a day like Friday rolls around, it makes me catch my breath. I can’t help it.

She looks at me in the eye and says that I can’t make her go, quiet, steady, her voice monotone. And I know she’s right. She’s simply too big now. I can’t lift her anymore, there’s no way I’d win if I tried to forcibly dress her. We’d battle it out, but I couldn’t force her.

I toss the options around in my head, trying not to give away anything on my face. I have a meeting that I can’t miss. Husband is working crazy hours, he can’t come home. She’ll have to come into the office with me. That’s it. She can come into the office with me. It will give her a break; it’s been a big few weeks and I know she’s tired.

I relent and she smiles. But in my mind the questions start racing ahead; is it just one day? Is there something beneath the surface? Will it be the start of a series? How many days like that do we need to have before we end up back there again? Am I overthinking this? Probably.

But that’s the thing. Each time something like this happens the questions come rushing back. Like a wave, they have a force of their own. I wonder if there’ll ever be a time when I’m not sitting on the edge of my seat, alert to every small change, ready to leap.

We headed into the office and she shut herself in a meeting room with her iPad and laptop. She revelled in the quiet attention that my workmates give her, basking in the solitude of closing the door on the world for a few hours.

Tonight I tucked her into bed and she told me she’s excited about school tomorrow. I smile and relief washes over me. For now the questions are quiet.

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Comments

  1. I so get it, only our questions are different.
    I also get how unsettling it is to have one of those days after a period of stability. It shocks you back to reality and you go right back to the feelings of the worst of days.
    G is having uncontrolled seizures for the first time since she was a baby.
    Is it just one day? Or is this our new normal?
    I’m glad Poss is excited about school tomorrow and I hope Friday was a blip not to be soon repeated.
    The questions.

    • Oh Sooze – I hate to hear about this. And I’m so sorry if my posts sound very first world. I can’t even imagine what you guys are going through. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help xx
      Renee recently posted..The questions.My Profile

  2. I also ‘get it’!
    We had 3 weeks straight of school refusal at the end of last year (year 9) So far my girl has attended each day of year 10. Shes threatened not to go to school & there is no way I could physically force her.
    It’s such a tough road for our children and for those of us blessed to be chosen as their parents.
    I enjoy following your stories & can see that Poss is one of the lucky ones.
    Helen

    • The end of the year is so very hard for our kids – we’ve had terms like that too. Glad to hear the start of the year is on track though – fingers crossed it continues!
      Renee recently posted..The questions.My Profile

  3. Glad to hear she is excited about tomorrow. Hope the morning goes smoothly for you. We face this some days too. Everyone needs a breather sometimes. Here’s hoping the little break gets her through a few more weeks. We haven’t really got to that stage yet this term but a day off for swimming carnival and a half day with flooding means we have had some enforced breaks. Have a wonderful week.

  4. My parents had this exact same trouble with me when I was going to school.

    Back in those days, Aspergers was not very well known, but once I was finally diagnosed a few years ago – in my mid thirties so way too late to be useful in school days! – my psychologist explained a concept to me and I totally understand why I simply could not go to school sometimes – it also happened with work as well.

    She explained it like this – my cup of human interaction was full, and I needed to be in a safe place with only trusted humans around me in order to empty it before I could be around the other humans again.

    Do you know about the cup of human interaction? If not and you’d like to know more, you can email me. 🙂

  5. PatrickC says:

    Yes I get it to but for me its slightly different. My three “don’t like me anymore” because their mother and grandmother have managed to turn them against me. They’re 19, 16 and 14. They look at me with contempt and treat me with disrespect. So now when the youngest is to be with me I’m the one tense and anxious awaiting what lies ahead. I get how you feel and I know how poss feels because I cant and will never turn my children away.

    • That’s hard Patrick. To be fair, I’m pretty sure I looked at my dad like that when I was the same age your girls are now. It changes. You realise that while your parents may not be perfect, they love you and that’s irreplaceable. Hang in there!
      Renee recently posted..The questions.My Profile

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