Am I Managing Stress and Anxiety, or Just Surviving?

I had another blog post written and ready to go, but this week took an unfortunate turn so I will save the other one for next week. What actually prompted me to write this was my boss at work—so thank you, Chris (I know you’re reading this, and sorry if there are any grammar mistakes!!).

It was 4 pm on Wednesday, and I hadn’t eaten or drunk a thing all day. I felt like I was going to pass out. My legs were shaky, and there was a crushing tension in my neck and shoulders. Yes I hadn’t eaten or drank but I was also in a state of anxiety which was causing me to feel horrible. Then my boss sent round an email about a training course (not just to me but to the whole team):

“Managing Stress and Anxiety.”

For the first time that week, I laughed—a real, full-on laugh. Though, in hindsight, it was probably a manic, hysterical one. But it was a laugh all the same.

You see, I’m in a situation nobody else I know in real life has been in (although I do have online friends in similar situations). I’m parenting against all my instincts, fighting a constant, losing battle. And in the middle of it all is a little boy doing his absolute best, just as I am. Somewhere in all of that, I’m also trying to manage my stress and anxiety, which has reached an all-time high. I’ve never felt worse in my life. I genuinely don’t know how I’m still going, but I have no choice—so on we go.

For the last two days in my head I have been in an Attendance Case Conference due to the Education Welfare Officer ringing me and threatening me at the beginning of the week. She started the conversation by telling me she was starting legal proceedings because I was failing in my duty as a parent to get my son to school.

It was like a red rag to a bull.

I asked her what she would prefer me to do, would she prefer me to get beat up by him, him hurt himself in the process, him hurt other members of my family and all this potentially cause a car accident on the way to school – something we had been close to in the past. She said no. She said she would come to the house on a morning and get him to go to school – I said she could, but I wouldn’t take responsibility for her getting hurt and she needed to be aware this was a volatile situation and potentially dangerous for her – she sharp changed her mind on that one. She said I needed to get my son to school, and I said I knew that but that school didn’t suit him and I needed another option – she said there were no other options, it was school or school. The cult is real…..Is Education a Cult? A Parent’s Awakening

I made it clear that no amount of threats or intimidation would force my hand. I was not going to push my deeply distressed child into a setting that doesn’t meet his needs so she can prosecute all she wants, it won’t change a thing here. Eventually, she backed off, saying we’d revisit the situation in a few months. Laughable, really. Her only goal was to scare me into submission—not to offer support or solutions. Empty threats and no help at all.

And since that phone call I have been replaying it over and over again. I haven’t slept, I haven’t eaten, I haven’t drunk (except coffee). I have attended a hypothetical case conference in my head, I have laid out my stance, I have made lists on my phone of what I have done over the last year to help this situation. And there is a lot. Can school or any other “professional” that has been involved say the same?

Meanwhile, my son is slipping further into… something I can’t quite identify. He’s barely eating, resisting showers, and struggling with every aspect of daily life—even visiting his dad’s house. This week, getting him to go to his dad’s house was a mammoth task. I had to invent a couple of situations just to get him there.

And the next day his dad then sent a picture of my son to his Grandma saying how excited he was for school. My son was in this picture in full school uniform, smiling and thumbs up. The picture was meant for my eyes I know that much and it’s designed to belittle what we go through in this house. But, without sounding arrogant and self-righteous I know that I am right.

My son exists in three settings: my house, his dad’s house, and school. Yet the expectations on him are wildly unequal. To break it down and give a very simplified example, imagine my son is capable of 18 activities/demands a week. Logically this would fluctuate week to week in each setting what he is capable of so it needs to adjust based on his needs. What is currently happening is nine activities are happening at school, nine at his dad’s, and by the time he gets home to me, he has nothing left to give. So we need to distribute these activities/demands better. So if my son is struggling perhaps reduce activities in all settings, or do less in one setting when the other setting requires more to be done.

I’ve been saying this for years: we need to distribute the demands on him better across all settings. For example, when he started swimming lessons, I asked his dad to reduce one of his football sessions at his to balance things out. His dad refused. Swimming started well but didn’t last—my son couldn’t keep it up.

Now my son is in Year 2, and school demands are tougher than ever. To keep his attendance up, we’ve had to reduce activities elsewhere. His dad still won’t budge, so I’ve had to strip back everything at my house. And now? My son is capable of nothing when he’s here, not even school.

It’s exhausting, it’s heartbreaking, and no matter how often I explain it, nobody seems to listen or understand. But please if you are reading this please tell me you understand. Instead, it’s always me who’s seen as the problem. Last night, I had the TV on in the background—not really watching, more just staring at it while I replayed my hypothetical case conference in my head for the hundredth time. Then a line from one of the characters snapped me out of my thoughts. They were dying and said, “In the end, the only thing that matters is how you treat the people you love.” It made me pause and really think about how I treat my son. Despite everything—the stress, the sleepless nights, the constant questioning of whether I’m doing enough or getting it all wrong—I knew, in that moment, that I was doing the right thing. I was treating him right, I know what he is capable of and adjust my expectations accordingly. I know what needs to be done to make his life easier, I just need to keep fighting…..as stressful as that is.

Oh, and about that stress and anxiety course? I didn’t book myself on it. But after this week, I’m starting to wonder if I should be the one teaching it!