The thing about anger is that it can have a profound effect on your day.
It changes how you view situations and people, how you act and how you think.
It can be a very dangerous emotion if it’s not handled correctly and today; I almost became a victim of my own undoing by indulging in allowing bitterness to overwhelm me.
I’ll go back to give you all some context:
Today, I turned the house inside out looking for the report for Harley’s psychological and behavioural assessments that we had done through the university almost 6 months ago now.
I had deliberately put these results aside when I received them in the mail because I simply wasn’t ready to deal with them at the time.
Well, ok, I did briefly skim through them when they first arrived but I have to admit that I didn’t really absorb any of it at all because I didn’t want to.
But the thing is: the psychologist that Harley has started seeing recently has requested a copy because it would be helpful for her to be able to see the best ways that she can communicate with him and help him. So I had no choice but to search for it.
And I found it. I read it and re-read it and read it again. But I couldn’t escape the fact that it was right there in print in front of me. It was very real.
The words: ‘low average range’, ‘below average’, ‘well below average’ and 8th percentile jumped out at me making me squirm. And from what I’ve seen at home, I believe that this particular report was very accurate.
But our school doesn’t necessarily agree.
Here is an excerpt from the report:
H’s pattern of performance across tasks indicates that he is experiencing difficulty across a range of cognitive domains including verbal reasoning and knowledge, working memory and his processing speed ability. He has particular difficulties in reading comprehension, spelling and numerical operations which supports Fiona’s initial reports… (Loved that bit).
Then it goes on to deliver further results and recommendations for more classroom aide, more learning support and more specialist attention in the school setting.
And this is the part where I burst into tears. I have literally gone around in circles tonight trying to ‘tidy up’ my initial post about my own personal reactions to the subject of aid (or lack there-of) in our school. What I wrote was very true, more than a bit controversial and very heartfelt but it was verging on venomous.
I hovered my mouse over the publish button several times but I wasn’t able to go ahead with it because I knew I had to calm down first and there was a part of me that just wasn’t comfortable with publishing such vitriol. That’s not – and never has been – my intention for this blog. I want to advocate not obliterate and I know too well that words spoken in anger can cause irreparable damage. So I trashed the whole post and I started again.
And no. I don’t think that I am taking the easy way out.
I am still extremely bothered that my child is desperately in need of extra aid and assistance that he’ll possibly never receive, but I have realised that I would achieve nothing good by giving in to angry tirades.
I need to go about this the right way; I just haven’t figured exactly what that is yet.
I am still in major doubt that the school really sees the big issues here. Don’t get me wrong: It is a great school and my children all have wonderful teachers but when you’re dealing with autism and all that it encompasses whilst in a mainstream setting: it will never be enough.In fact: not even close to enough. And that’s just the way it is.
So who is at fault here?
Well, I don’t think it’s either the school or us. The school offers what they can according to their funding allocations, and we enrolled our kids there because we believe in the school. Harley had no diagnosis when he started Prep. We were still viewing him as our ‘impossible child’ with shocking social skills and speech delays. We could not have predicted how things would eventuate 4 years down the track and could not have foreseen the extra needs that his disability brings with it.
The most pressing issue at the moment is that what the school sees, and what we live with are two polar opposites. School continues to tell me that Harley is a pleasure to teach, that he is doing wonderfully and that he is settling in well, meanwhile I’m still waiting for the last lot of my Harley-inflicted bruises to disappear and my own medication to kick in.
I hold no grudges because the school can only report on what they see and I can only report on my own reality. The fact that they don’t line up is what needs to be addressed here.
I have no choice right now but to give this all to God and truly believe that He is going to bring good out of this whole situation.
I simply cannot handle any more stress. I’m at my limit, so Jesus: PLEASE take the wheel.