MEMORIES OF SCHOOL

 

Before knowledge and diagnosis of pathological demand avoidance (PDA), one of our main struggles was getting J ready and on time to leave for school. But everything proved so difficult each and every morning.

She would wake up fine, but there was always a battle to get dressed, put on her shoes, have breakfast, get her stuff ready and leave the house on time.

She would constantly be negotiating with us saying things like "I want to get dressed after breakfast" instead of before, then it would be, "I will only put my shoes on if …. " - this was a constant source of stress in our house.

Her demand avoidance was constantly slowing things down to the point that arriving at school on time just didn't happen.

Morning Meltdown

Often she would have a big meltdown in the morning, lasting hours at times, to the point where we assumed she would not be going in that particular day. Then she would demand to go into school, and we would naturally assume she would have a rubbish day because of the complete exhaustion she must have been feeling.

But it was always, and I mean always, on these days that she ended up having the best days! I still can't get my head around that!!

School Days

Deep down J loved school, she was always telling us about school, she loved playing schools, but I think the demand to go was often too overwhelming. On days where there wasn't a problem entering the school building (transitions have always been difficult for her), we would naturally expect her to repeat the performance again the following day, as would her teachers, as surely if she could go in fine one day, why not the next?

Little did we realise then that the demand she placed on herself to do the same again was just too much for her to cope with.

The Journey

Even though getting out of the house was a problem. The journey to school, although not overly long, was relatively OK and pretty calm. She would listen to her favourite music, perhaps have her favourite toy, etc.

But as soon as my husband pulled up outside, that was where the problem started. Getting out of the car was hit or miss.... but walking to the building, let alone entering it, was extremely traumatic for her.

The teachers did the best they could at the time with trying alternatives like entering through a different door, entering the building earlier or later than everyone else, being met with a favourite teacher or friend, a little job to do when she entered the building, you name it, they tried it, but nothing worked, and if it did, it was always in the short term and never lasted.

Transitions

On entering the building in the reception area, J would immediately go to ground and cling onto my husband. If he tried to move her, she would grab whatever was at hand and throw it or bang anything nearby. She didn't care who was watching or what they thought!

Staff tried their best to engage her, but 9 times out of 10 she had to be physically removed from my husband and taken out of the reception area, so the door could be locked behind her, and she would be safe.

Attachment

Back in the days of her first school, we assumed that perhaps she had attachment issues, as this is how she presented. She always struggled big time to break away from my husband and he often was asked to stay and "settle her".

They even used to call him back in if things started going wrong. Not the greatest sign to give J - kick off and daddy will come and see you!

But as time went on, and she got older, it was kind of obvious that this was something much, much more than just an attachment issue.

Escape

If J didn't even make it into reception, as would often happen, she would attempt to either scale the school fences, which were pretty high, run off around the playground, or if the gates were still open to the school grounds, she would make her way off down the road, which I hasten to add was a main busy read. She certainly kept the teachers on their toes.

All power to my husband at this time as he was the one doing the school runs as I was at work. I can only be thankful he is such a patient sort of person, one who doesn't get easily embarrassed and one who always seemed to instinctively know what to do and what to tell the teachers to try. Unfortunately they did not always take on board his/our suggestions.

Smart Cookie

I think the trouble is J is a smart cookie, she was never going to be fooled with offers of a new activity to try on entering the school building, she wasn't going to be fooled by anything really. It was her way or no way, and eventually we all realised that mainstream just wasn't going to work.

After her final 3 day exclusion in December 2019, that was it. School was over!

I feel sad in a way as we actually had to appeal to get her a place at this school. It was a hard battle, but we won it, confident this was going to be right placement for her. Sadly it was far from it.

I guess the only good thing to come out of the school was that they arranged the EHCP and did all they could to support us throughout this process.

Trauma

As much as J has some fond memories of this school, a lot of her memories dig up a trauma of sorts. She remembers only how was restrained, how the teachers never seemed to leave her alone (although this was for her own safety of course), how some kids were mean because she was 'different' and how it just wasn't a stable enough environment, with the right understanding and support for her to thrive.

It was a big school, with classrooms full of 30 kids or more, with never enough staff around to assist. More importantly there was no 'fluidness' to her day, it was set by time and curriculum and demands were constant throughout the day.

Looking back now, it was never going to work for J.

New School

The new school that she will be starting in a couple of weeks could not be more different. We just hope (and pray!) that they can restore her faith in teachers, in wanting to learn again, and in getting enjoyment out of going to school each day.

Please keep everything crossed for us!