September 2014

Well here we are in 2014.  Zeno will be 15 in a couple of months.  Like every other parent of a teenager on the planet, I don't know where the time has gone and how my beautiful, bouncing baby has turned into a big lumbering man-child.  So where are we at now?  Well, he's still attending the same Secondary school - just barely.  His flexi-schooling arrangement is still in place, although we did get a lot of hints and prods about increasing his timetable.  These died down however when Zeno failed to keep to his flexi timetable and barely managed to get to school for even one day a week, and that not even a full day.  So now they're expectations have been reduced such that I think they would be over the moon if he attended for the shortened timetable we initially agreed with them (4 half days a week).

We are attending CAMHS, the child/adolescent mental health service because of Zeno's depression, talk of suicide, and latterly his admission that he has voices in his head shouting at him or talking constantly.   After making this admission Zeno backtracked a little and certainly didn't share the same information with CAMHS as he did with me.  I must say first that he said he understands that the voices are in his head and are not really separate people talking to him.  But he did say that is exactly what they sound like - different people, different personalities, and one is female.  He also said they say very rude things, and once he said they tell him to hit or punch someone who is annoying him.  Naturally, with a family history of schizophrenia and mental illness generally, this was pretty devastating to hear.  In our family of 9, I think most if not all of us had a fear of developing mental illness and the next worse thing after that, or perhaps even worse than that, would be for our children to have a mental illness.

Last week, the first week back after the holidays, he made it in on the first day back which was Tuesday.  Wednesday is supposed to be his only full day at home, although he sees a counsellor every other week.  Wednesday evening I told him I expected him to get up the next morning when I called him, and wouldn't brook any excuses.  On Thursday morning I called him - and called him, and called him.  I'm not allowed go in his room but I rapped on the door.   He didn't, wouldn't, couldn't - whatever, I just don't know anymore - get up.   I told him through the door that if he wasn't going to school then he wasn't going on his computer, or tablet, or any kind of games until the evening.  And he would do at least 3 hours of school work.  He said fine, great, it's better than getting up for school.   When he did eventually get up he complained of not sleeping and being exhausted.  I gave him the science work I had prepared for him but after 15 minutes he said he wasn't able to concentrate.   I did get a little frustrated then and a storm was sort of brewing over both our heads for a while but eventually I managed to let the frustration go and said simply, that he had a choice whether to be educated or not but if he was going to choose NOT then I'd rather he went to school and didn't get educated there, than stayed at home and not get educated here.    I know that's a little difficult to untangle but he understood what I meant and I think it got through to him.  I mean I THOUGHT it got through to him, especially when he did get up the next morning (Friday), despite coming into my room late at night complaining of not being able to sleep.

He got up when I called him, ate breakfast and eventually got dressed and ready after constant reminders from me.   The bus picks him up at 8.30 on the dot, he's the last person to be picked up (and the first to be dropped off, by arrangement because of his travel difficulties), and I have a severe OCD about keeping people waiting.   We would usually stop at the shop to get him a snack for breaktime but we didn't have time because of all his delaying tactics, but thank God I was saved an argument by the fact that the shop was closed due to power cuts.  We walked on towards the pickup point, and I was getting uneasy because the bus wasn't actually there and I was afraid if we had to hang around waiting he would say "you see?  all that rushing for nothing I am never going to listen to you again when you tell me to hurry up", which is just the kind of thing he would and does say.   But, thank God again, just as we arrived at the pickup point the bus pulled up and in he reluctantly climbed, with the escort greeting him cheerily.   I walked home with a sense of relief that he had made it into school for 2 days out of the 3 on the timetable for that week.   When he arrived back home at lunchtime he was beaming and my heart lightened with glad surprise.  Until he told me the reason for his cheerfulness - a good long sleep at school!   yes, halfway through his first lesson of the day he had got up and gone to the office where he proceeded to lie down and drift away to a blissful slumber, from whence he arose when it was time for his taxi home at 1pm.