The conversation

This story is last part of a trilogy about school refusal.

And this is all about bringing closure to a year-long emotional journey for both father and son.

The silence was killing me, even as a new school year began and things seemed to have returned to ‘normal’. 

It was not the terrifying, stone wall of silence between me and my son of a year ago, when things seemed so dark and hopeless.  But, still, I was very much aware that we had never had that conversation.  He had never shared with me his side of the story – his tale of what it was like to be a teenager trapped in this fortress of anxiety.

Sitting on the Eurostar, travelling alone, another email arrived in my inbox.  It was exactly what I had been waiting for.  His story, finally breaking the silence between us. 

It speaks for itself.

Anyone who saw me now would believe I was just a normal kid.  A kid who has a family, has friends and goes to school.

But I used to sit in school, excluded from the crowd – alone, afraid and wondering to myself, How long until the end of the day?  Finally, the bell would ring and with it came a feeling of utter joy, happiness and relief.  I would push open the door and run, like an animal released into the wild after a period of captivity.  I would run home, open the front door, go upstairs, slam my bedroom door and cried.

I could tell people were mad at me. I could tell people wanted me back at school… and now!  But it wasn’t going to happen.  Not just like that.  I could see it in their faces.  Every time I went out of the house, I had to avoid certain places, avoiding people, because I was scared of what they might say.  In fact, I was scared of everything.

One day off school turned into two.  Two turned into a week.  Suddenly, before I knew it, it was a whole school term.  The longer I stayed at home, the harder I felt it would be to ever go back.  I could feel it inside, it was getting worse.  I was becoming more frustrated, more alone.

I felt like I would never go back to school.  Ever.

During this time, I admit my relationship with my dad was not quite as strong as it had been before.  I could sense in him that he couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t go to school.  There was a period where I even dreaded the thought of him coming to visit for the weekend.   I was too ashamed, embarrassed and scared.  I was scared of what he might ask, what he might say, what he might do.  I had no hope, and my confidence was at an all time low. 

I had no trust in anyone:  my parents, my friends, my therapist, and even myself.  I had no trust that it was going to be alright. I thought I had gone into a dark cave and that I was never going to come out!  

Then, after having probably the worst week of my life, I decided I can’t live on like this.  I realized that I was going to end up killing myself.

So I went and got the computer, sat down, and emailed my dad.  It was time to return to school.

To cut a long story short, I did get back into school.  I moved to Brussels and now I’m enjoying school more than ever!  And if I have learned one thing, it would be this: You cannot live life without belief - belief in others, belief in life and most important of all belief in yourself.

If I look back on the past eighteen months, it is clear how far we have come – as individuals and as a family.  Things have changed, that’s for sure.  We have all had to make adjustments and accept the new routines.  But if I could judge the quality of my son's life by the number of school friends he has on Facebook, his academic grades, his involvement in the school football team or simply the smile on his face when he arrives at school each day, I would dare to say he might just about be the happiest boy I know. 

And what more could a father want than that?

Missed Part One and Part Two of this trilogy?  Click the links to catch up.

Comments

[Kim Walker]

Those teen-age years are so tough anyway without all that extra anxiety. I'm glad your boy saw light at the end of the tunnel and followed it! Good luck.