Owen is still having trouble in school - he had another really hard day on Tuesday (they had a short week this week) and I worry about him. We're moving on getting a specialist from the district in to observe him since the people at his school mean well but none of them are trained to handle it and they're essentially learning on the job with Owen.
Part of his meltdowns I can totally relate to - and it hurts to think of him going through the same things I did and not be able to do something to help, or stop it or lessen it somehow. He has autism, yes, so he handles things in a different way and part of that I will never be able to relate to or fully understand. It's been joked about that I could have probably gotten a diagnosis somewhere on the spectrum myself, but back when I was his age it was just labelled as "tantrums" or "issues" - we've come a long way in the nomenclature, but it seems like we're still having the same trouble.
While I don't claim that my experiences are the same as Owen's - I think part of Owen's experience is the same as mine. Maybe if I can relate to that part we can lessen the number of issues and give him less to deal with instead of wishing he was better at dealing with it all, over and over again.
Anyway.
I used to have episodes in 3rd grade as well, I can remember them so clearly. That's the weird thing. I would be hard pressed to tell you details about most of that year beyond maybe my teacher's name, but I can remember the episodes with such clarity. I had outbursts in class that totally freaked people out and had me permanently feeling like the "weird kid" as a result, the emotions around which followed me for years and years that totally guided my behavior to compensate.
We had moved that year to a new school and I was included in the new gifted program - all kinds of things that will alienate a kid - I was totally textbook gifted kid as well, super concerned about finishing quickly and getting perfect scores...totally Aidan. But I never remember being competitive about it, I was in class with other kids that also went to the gifted class with me and I don't remember being upset about them doing better than me - but I was totally experiencing stress and anxiety over my perceived intelligence and the performance that was expected of me, which is something a 3rd grader isn't really equipped to handle emotionally.
There were days where I would be in physical pain from worry. I had headaches, stomachaches, I got physically ill, all from constant stress. But my teachers didn't really respond to vague complaints from the weird new kid (which of course made my stress worse) so there were a few times that I ended up with my head on my desk in tears with my classmates staring at me. Which of course made it worse. The cycle gets worse and worse.
There were times where I didn't honestly understand why or what was happening, eventually, but I would suddenly just break down. Usually it was in class where I felt all the pressure to just fit in and be normal. But I was so aware of all the social weight of my past outbursts pressing down on me, even if I had a normal day I was still embarrassed an alienated by what had happened before. Sometimes there was nothing I was reacting to except all the built-up feelings about all the outburst that came before - which made the next outburst seem so totally unmotivated...and therefore even more weird to the people around me.
So the act of keeping it together became harder and harder and sometimes I would just find myself having what I didn't realize until much, much later in life were full-blown panic attacks. In third grade. Third grade kids shouldn't have anxiety attacks. But I sure was. Out of nowhere I would just become overwhelmed and paralyzed by emotion, and it panicked me because I didn't want to freak out in class (again), which made the emotions worse and suddenly I would be sitting there with tears coming out of my eyes for no reason at all.
Being the weird kid. Again.
When we're old enough, we get to reinvent ourselves as people that have things figured out and we don't have to be that kid that had full blown panic attacks in elementary school anymore, at least that's what I did. It's no surprise that I was drawn toward an art form where I can act any way I want and not only am I not "weird" for it - it's an ability other people are astonished by.
But that's the thing - there's no starting over with social stigma for kids in that little fishbowl that is school.
When Owen has a breakdown at home we can get him through it and he's able to go on knowing that the way we feel about him has not changed at all and we don't see him any differently because of yesterday. With kids in school there isn't that clean slate where he can relax and try again, there's always the negative feelings dragging behind him from the last thing. If he starts out embarrassed or anxious, it might be because each thing isn't an isolated thing - it's the next thing. And I can tell you there's nothing more painfully embarrassing that trying to pull it together quietly, wishing everyone would stop staring at you and forget what just happened - it's a lonely place and it's a nearly impossible task.
I have a lunch date with Owen on Sunday and I am going to try and talk to him about all this so he knows his dad went through some of the same emotions that get him so elevated in school, too. To know that his meltdowns don't need to be his identity.
I want to encourage him to talk to his classmates about it as well, something that the school is already weird about - when he was sent home last time they wanted to make sure Owen had an answer about what happened in case the other kids asked - I want him to be able to address the fact that he has outbursts as a fact that he deals with, and be able to talk about them instead of quietly wondering if people have forgotten about the last weird thing he did and letting that worry drive him to the next one.
No comments:
Post a Comment