It has occurred to me to leave this post right there.
I know there are many parents with fractured hearts that will TOTALLY get it. Today I can’t stop crying. I miss him so, so, much. He is settling and having the chance of a life and a future and he nearly didn’t get that. Many don’t. Many are just left without support, at home, with parents desperately trying to help as best they can, 24/7.
It sometimes feels like there is an army of people supporting Peter; doing what I (like many others) was expected to manage on my own. I am grateful. Please understand that. But it doesn’t stop the hurt.
Peter is great company and good fun to be with – others are getting to see him enjoy life and develop – I deserve to see that too, don’t I?
I wish those that accused me of “WANTING HIM OUT OF AREA” could have just a little insight into what it is like to fight for something you don’t want to need.
I wish that those in schools and at the local authority that worked tirelessly to obstruct and interrupt the possibility of him having the support he needed in mainstream in Years 1-4, could see the work his English teacher showed me this week. If only they could see how hard it is for him to manage ¼ of the work he was capable of before his brain collapsed with overwhelming stress and trauma relating to unmet need.
There is so much more I wish for. Just some insight into the damage they have caused. I wish they would feel sick to the stomach with the realisation of just how wrong they were.
I wish, God I wish, they could see the damage it has caused Lily. I wish they could see her extreme emotional pain and the chronic anxiety it has left her with. My robust happy little girl that never did a thing to hurt a soul, suffering hour on hour of anxiety attacks, panic attacks, flashbacks and just simply missing ‘the old Peter’. With years of psychology support and a truly nurturing school, she is on the mend – it was so avoidable though.
There is more to grieve too. I am returning to work (all things are relative – I am working
for free for 300 hours to regain my Registration as a Nurse) and whilst there I am meeting with people who knew me ‘before’. People whose lives and careers have continued and who are enjoying the reward of specialist roles – just like the ones I used to have. I doubt they have a hole in their dining room ceiling because fighting for the right to an education in this country, costs some of us, and when your child is unable to attend school (or doesn’t have one) you can’t work. Like the rest of the house (and me, and Lily) it’s been neglected for years whilst the monumental battle for Peter’s survival has been fought.
But most of all I miss him and I miss seeing him enjoy life and that’s just not fair.
More about being forced to fight for things you don’t want to need: see here.
More about Peter’s need for inpatient psychiatric care at the age of 9: see here