I had to drop some clothes off to my middle daughter today at her school and the Principal caught me – he suggested a quick catch up in his office. Annoyingly I wasn’t dressed smartly and my tattoos were on show. I prefer to be suited and booted for such meetings. I felt a bit off the back foot.
I had also wanted my husband present for any meetings relating to camp, or in fact our daughters, he takes the calm less emotive tone and is always able to make compromise. I’m only good for the threats of legal action and/or violence!
His mood was clearly unhappy. He told me straight up. My daughter would be asked to leave camp if she was caught with a cell phone again. I tried to channel my husband. I did the calm rational reasoning about why she was allowed a cell phone in the first place (responsible, mature, etc) and how as parents we wanted that communication. I apologised that I had been unreasonable in my own handling of the situation. But I said it was wrong to deny my daughter the experience. The principal went on to say that technology wouldn’t be allowed we should just trust the teachers etc. at that I could feel my facade crumbling. My daughter flashed before my eyes, was it my daughter or me? Small, terrified, broken, afraid, no one to reach out, no one to listen.
Then I felt the tears betraying my hard demeanour roll down my cheeks.
I realised there was silence – for how long?
Shit, I was really losing it!
I looked out the window, the sun, cars driving by, everything seeming a threat to my children, this school was just a fake shell. I was losing control.
The words left my mouth, ‘obviously there is a bigger picture here, much more going on. I’m doing the best I can. But I need to feel like I can look after my daughter – keep communication open.’
He nodded, he understood. He didn’t look embarrassed. He told me he’d assumed the whole time I was just arrogant but this made sense. He said he would support our decision. He told me I was doing a good job trying to protect her. I told him I didn’t feel like it. It was getting harder as she was getting older.
Then I thanked him and I left. I felt the panic as I walked to my car.
My appointment was close at the psychiatrist. I disassociated through most of that. The searing pain from the unexpected disclosure wanting to burst out. I can feel my mood is threatening to dip already.
She could see it to. Back on quietiepiene for me. Increased visits.
Im not sure what’s happening with me at the moment. Maybe it’s the therapy, maybe it’s the desperation not to fight it anymore. Maybe it’s a mood change, maybe it’s stress. But things seem to be shifting. I’m both terrified but curious. Anxious but ready. Devastated but feel it necessary.