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Archive for September 2010

I walked into L’s bedroom and said “what time are you supposed to be at school?”

“mumblemumblemfff”
“answer me please, what time do you need to be at school?”
“go away”
“L, what time do you need to be at school?
“I just woke up, leave me alone”
“I will if you just tell me what time you need to be at school?”
Snaps at me and answers in angry tone “in 10 minutes”

*sigh*

He takes on so much, and I worry about him and the stress he puts on himself. But when it comes to music, it just all seems to come together for him. In the lead up, he gets cranky and stressed and I get annoyed that he can’t say no to people and puts himself under so much pressure… but he’s fantastic.

Tonight he played eight songs, varying types of music. He accompanied seven of his classmates during their performances, and for his own performance he just had a singer. Last year his music teacher told him to really start challenging himself with his song choices, and he’s taken it to heart. He chose an incredibly difficult piece of music, and five minutes before his song he was toying with the idea of not performing. In his music exam / performance, it will just be him and three examiners. Tonight it was his class, his teachers, parents, grandparents and friends of students in the audience.

He played. He rocked. He is amazing.

Tuesday night dinner with the parents was put off last night because my Mum wasn’t feeling well.

So it was a Wednesday night dinner that A, C and I headed off to. L had been at school for some HSC music preparations and was out gallivanting in the car somewhere. At least he missed it.

Dad seemed OK. Ranting a little about a spreadsheet, but C headed off to the computer to fix that (little darling that he is).

I don’t even know how to describe what happened, but I guess I stuffed up and mentioned something I shouldn’t have. Dad has always had a thing about some money that Mum and I have invested together. It shits him that it’s in debentures when we could do more (in his eyes) on the stock market. Mum and I like it where it is, thank you very much. We can get it quickly if we need to, otherwise it just sits there earning interest and we’re happy with that.

Anyway, next thing Dad is being an utter arsehole to Mum. At the dinner table. In front of us.

There are things that should be kept between couples, and it was an.inappropriate forum for him to raise them, and not on for him to sepak to my Mum like that in front of her grandkids. It didn’t stop. I couldn’t cope. We left mid meal.

And now I feel like shit.

I rang L to make sure that he wasn’t calling in to his grandparents, he knew. “what happened?” he asked. “The usual.” “Who to this time?” “Nan”

It sucks that we have a usual. It sucks that I walked out. If I’d stayed I could have said something unforgivable. And now I’m sure my mum is copping the fallout. 😦

Borrowed from my son:

so here’s an idea of how tired i am. i walk into a room in my house, walk past my dog and say “come on boy” expecting him to follow me. he doesn’t. i call his name again. no answer. i turn around. it’s not my dog. it’s my hi-hats.

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Earlier on this year, the school suggested that we apply for special provisions in the HSC for L. They felt it was worthwhile asking for extra rest breaks, which would also mean that he would be either in a smaller group or on his own rather than in the big hall with the rest of the students.

This was pre-bipolar diagnosis, at a time where L was getting hardly any sleep, was finding it incredibly hard to concentrate and was very depressed. We got a letter from the GP and a letter from the Psychologist in support of the application, and both desribed how extra rest breaks would benefit L.

After the bipolar diagnosis was confirmed by the Psychiatrist, I contacted the school again, and asked if they needed any further information for the application. They said no, they had plenty of information and nothing more was needed. Then came the Lithium side effect – the shaking – making it extremely difficult for L to write. I again rang the school, and was advised that as the shaking is a side effect of the medication, and not of the condition itself, then it couldn’t be taken into account. At the time, I didn’t think much of that, apart from slight annoyance, because I thought we already had the extra rest time covered and that it would help.

This week, let’s see, just how many weeks is it before the HSC commences? Oh, that’s right, it’s 5 weeks until the exams… Anyway, this week we received a letter from the Board of Education declining the request for special provisions.

Way to kick a kid when he’s down.

Here’s an eample provided on the Board of Studies website.

Psychological – depression
Comments from Rania’s Year 12 teachers indicate she often disengages during class and needs assistance to stay focused. Rania is often anxious and worried; she is frequently absent and at times lacks interest in her work. Her application includes a report from her clinical psychologist stating she has been diagnosed with depression. The school reports that she takes longer to produce written work and has supplied two timed written essays, at least one of which is an assessment task.
Provisions approved* Individual supervision, extra time to write (at the rate of two and a half minutes per half hour of examination time) OR a writer (HSC at the rate of 5 minutes per half hour of examination time to allow for the dictation process), and extra time to rest (at the rate of 5 minutes per half hour of examination time).

So we’re appealing anyway. We have 14 days to get the paperwork in, it’s just another fucking drama in a long line of kicks to the teeth for the poor kid. What’s hypothetical Rania got that we don’t?

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  • None
  • strangeapple: I don't like to fail, and I feel like I've failed. I think that's what it is. Big knock to my ego. I saw a psych the other week, she made sense, p
  • strangeapple: Holy fuck, I had a doctors appointment this evening that I didn't go to. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
  • corymbia: I do the stiff upper lip thing too. Was worried I was slipping into bona-fide depression last week, but as is usually the case with me... the bad stu

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