I'm up because T. has an interview and assessment at our local college today.
I'm up, but he isn't.
Once again, his anxieties got the better of him and he's in hiding under his multiple blankets and quilts, the portable air-con machine blowing and buzzing away to create the droning sounds he needs to soothe him.
Once again, my hopes are shattered that he would actually attempt this; but not that shattered, let's face it, I was expecting it. I was hoping to be wrong, I was hoping I was under-estimating him, I was hoping that all the professionals telling me he would be fine with my support were right this time.
But no, as per usual, it turns out that I am yet again the only expert who got it right, no, I wasn't being melodramatic, or over-protective, or dismissive of his abilities. Nope, I had him pegged just right. I knew this would prove too much of an obstacle, I knew this would happen, I knew that I would be left feeling yet again inadequate, unable to get my child to accomplish one of the simplest steps of the day: get out of bed.
Right now, as I can hear the low purring of the machine in the bedroom above my head, I am despondent, but numb to yet again another disappointment. To be honest, I am at the point where I just want to shrug and give up... except I can't, can I? If I give up, then what? What of the future? What will he do? What will become of him?
And so, the cycle continues; I have phoned the college to make his excuses, I am now going to e-mail his school and the Local Authority to let them know that, yet again, they have failed my son in their duty to support him, and I will try very hard not to say: "I told you this was going to happen!" even though I feel that they set him up to fail. Again. And so, we will start the dance again after 1/2 term.
Regrets will be expressed that he couldn't overcome his anxieties, that he isn't seizing the opportunities offered to him, and I will yet again think: But this isn't news! He didn't turn up for his English GCSE last year, because of his anxiety getting the better of him, what made you think that just letting him loose with only mum's support to go to college, a completely unknown quantity, was going to happen? All his life, anxiety has paralysed him from doing things, even things he does want to do, what on Earth made you think this time was going to be different? And more importantly, what are you going to do about it? Because I am out of ideas here.
It feels like a giant game of Jenga here, where they are removing the struts of effective support for my boy, one after the other, and I seem to be the only one to realise that once they remove one piece too many, too early, this human being precariously perched at the top will be left without support whatsoever, long before he is actually stable enough to hold on.
And here I am, writing this in a blog, because those who have the tools to give the support don't seem to understand, whilst those who do understand don't have the tools to give the support, so I am left, yet again alone, to worry about the future...
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