Cav's Place

A newspaper from here printed an article about school anxiety two days ago. It pointed out that this fear is the one that appears, or at least significantly worsens, after the child has been in school for a time, so it is different from the separation anxiety which manifests itself from the first day. Then it went on to say that it’s not really triggered by being away from parents and not directly related to any specific event that happened to the child at school, which is perfectly true, but then blew it by saying that it’s most likely linked to a fear of death and therefore triggered after the death of a close friend or relative. I can tell you quite certainly that it’s nothing of the sort, not in my case at least. Either way, it also stressed that parents of children who are afraid of school must not force them to go, but must help them instead. That’s nice, but the real problem follows: By help the author meant finding them a good therapist and pointing out that one or two years of treatment are usually required for a “cure”.
It was certainly better than all the “how to make your child go to school” articles that pop up all over around the beginning of the school year, but it still focused on solving the problem by bending the child’s mind and personality to the will of the world, albeit more gently, instead of by creating a place for that child, just as he or she is, in the world. So I went out on a limb and wrote a lengthy comment under that article, explaining my situation, just in case somebody else feels something similar and would find comfort in knowing they’re not alone, and then (rhetorically) asking why can’t society find ways in which each could put their ideas and skills to use while maintaining their personality, and even their limitations, instead of forcing all to fight who they are if they want to be able to do anything.
But this is not about the general problem and the solutions I have for it, there will be another time for that. This post is simply a part of my story, one I realized I never really explained here.

Since I’m generally very afraid of people, school was certainly not a place where I could ever feel at ease, not to mention that there was also a fair amount of separation anxiety early on. But the actual fear of school became a strong and separate “entity” in third grade. There was no death around that time and it also wasn’t caused by a specific event, despite others thinking they had identified one once. I think it might have been triggered by the realization that school wasn’t something that would be over quickly, that it was going to last for many years to come and then would likely be replaced by some sort of work in a similarly social, stressful and regulated environment. I obviously couldn’t handle that, so I snapped.
What followed were talks with my parents. I was hysterical and they seemed to keep thinking that it either was some specific event that triggered it or I just needed to get used to it better and that either way they could explain to me that it was all right and it’d get better. Obviously, that couldn’t work.
Then they talked with the teacher, trying to determine if anyone was threatening me or if there might have been any other specific situation which might have triggered this. Eventually, I got taken to the first psychologist, who had no idea what she was doing and kept trying to prove to me that my intelligence was way above the average and therefore I shouldn’t fear that I won’t be able to keep up. Thank you, but I already knew that, so what does it have to do with anything?
Further on, my parents took different approaches, with my dad becoming harsher and trying to force me to go, scare me into going to school, and the creature trying a mix of occasionally appearing understanding and letting me have a free day now and then and blackmailing me emotionally the rest of the time. The general theme through all those years was that I’m shaming them with my behavior and creating added stress within the family, which also ruins their relationship.
Back to the chronological order of things, I believe I was in fourth grade when a psychologist came to the school for a day. Knowing of my problem, my teacher decided to take me to him. If you keep in mind that I’m afraid of people, and even more so of doctors, and also of school, it should come as no surprise that I lost it completely when I found out that my teacher was about to make me talk to a doctor I didn’t know, inside the school, about my fear of school. She had to literally drag me all the way from my desk to the doctor’s office, two floors down, while I kicked and screamed and tried to cling on to anything I could get my hands on. The doctor tried to calm me down for a few minutes, realized it was impossible and let me go.

The following years were more or less a nightmare. I was more and more afraid, they tried more and more to make me go… Obviously, the extreme stress I was under took its toll on my health, and for a time I was making a visit to the hospital about once every two weeks because of it. They always told me it was nothing serious physically, just kept me there for about 30 minutes to calm me down a little and get my heart rate back within acceptable limits, gave some advice about reducing stress which never had anything to do with its real cause, then sent me back home. The results of that are still visible, as my nervous system is in poor shape, I’m shaking a lot and was left with some cardiac arrhythmia, all of which only seem to be getting worse as time passes.
As part of my dad’s part of the attempts to make me keep going, one day he took me to a psychiatrist. I was asked to go to another room and write down how I see the problem while I assume she talked to my dad to see how he sees it. Then she read what I wrote and said it’s not a psychiatric problem, so she referred me to that clinic’s psychologist. My dad took me there next, we were asked what the problem was and as soon as the words were out she told my dad not to accept such behavior, to force me to go by any means necessary. Then she went on to say that she won’t accept that such a condition might exist because she can’t have her son tell her he’s afraid of school at some point in the future and need to admit that he might speak the truth. I’d still like to know who the fuck gave her a license to practice! Still, my dad took her words to heart and the computer was immediately moved out of my room with the understanding that the amount of time I’ll be allowed to use it from then on would depend on my behavior, on going to school calmly and no longer saying that I’m afraid of it. That particular kind of blackmail didn’t last long, but my dad did get even more adamant that I have to go, regardless of how I might feel, after that point.
I’m not sure if this was during that last semester of eighth grade, when they allowed me to stay home, or just before it, but there eventually was another psychologist. She came home, I didn’t have to go to her office. I hated her guts, though she tried to be very gentle. It was just that she kept trying to find one specific reason for my fear, a certain event that happened at school and triggered it, which was not the case.
Yes, as I said, during the last semester of eighth grade my parents finally allowed me to stay home. Homeschooling is illegal here, but they worked something out with the teachers. Some just passed me based on my good results up to that point, saying they’ll handle the loose ends, others allowed me to send a couple of projects that I worked on at home and graded them, yet a few others actually came here once or twice and gave me tests. Then there was the exam at the end of the eighth grade, which I had to take and somehow passed, though I was utterly terrified and still don’t know how I managed to do it.

I thought it’d finally be over after that, but dad did not. He started looking for a high school for me and, since my poor results at that exam I mentioned above severely limited my options as far as public schools were concerned, eventually found a private school that didn’t care for your previous results as long as you passed their exam. So he dragged me there, I took that exam and apparently passed it without problems.
That meant I was to start ninth grade, which was an obviously terrifying prospect. Still, after not sleeping and hardly eating for the last two days before the start of a preparation period which the school required us to go through before the actual start of the school year, I ended up there, dragged along by dad once again. Once there, somehow my eyes fell on Rose and it was love at first sight. I never had a chance, she never gave a damn about me, but she was put in the same class I was and the hope made me capable of fighting the fear, at least partially, for a whole year. I managed to finish ninth grade fueled by false hope alone.
But at the beginning of the tenth grade I realized there will never be anything between us and all my strength crumbled along with my hopes. That meant the very thought of school drove me into hysterics once again and my parents couldn’t make me go at all anymore. So they gave me some more time, let me stay home until the beginning of the “tests” period, towards the end of the semester, making sure I won’t be expelled. Then I went for one day at the start of that period, with the help of a classmate who had become a rather close friend through this period, but I just couldn’t handle it and wouldn’t go again after that at all.
As a result, my parents hired yet another psychologist, which was apparently rather renowned. He also came home and was the only one who seemed to know what he was talking about, at least partially. There were a few things I could actually talk to him about, and he tried to look at the issue from a broader perspective, including my parents more than the others had (though both the others who actually tried to treat me for a while also included the creature, but to a lesser extent), saying they also have a problem, not just me. I hated him for putting me on pills, but at least it didn’t last long. It didn’t last long because after a while he went to my parents and told them that he doesn’t have a problem with continuing to take their money in exchange for having nice chats with me, but he can assure them that my fear is real, I’m not faking it, and there’s nothing to be done about it. So he advised them to just let it go, let me stay home.

They seemed to finally understand then, and until the end of that school year they did let it go. But then my dad came to me one day, close to the start of the next school year, and asked me what did I need for school. I was frozen for a moment, so he asked again. As soon as I could move again, I walked away and went to my room. He came after me, asked once again and waited for me to answer. When he noticed he wasn’t going to get anything out of me, he said he thought I just needed some time, take a year off but then start going again. I said I didn’t think that. Then he finally let it go, just like that. He never again pressed me about going to school after that moment.
However, there seemed to be a switch between my parents after that. The creature started to nag me about going again, which she kept doing for close to two years, also trying to get Andra on her side once she became a part of my life. Initially Andra did try to make me go back and those discussions were so terrifying I can’t even think about them anymore, I just remember sheer terror. Then she suddenly stopped mentioning it at some point. Why she did that became obvious a little while later, when I was in Iasi with her and the creature called. Andra picked up and, after a few random pleasantries, the creature apparently told her that if she truly loves me she must make me go back to school by any means necessary. With barely controlled fury (and a murderous look, though the creature obviously couldn’t see it), she replied: “I do love your son, ma’am, and just because I love him I won’t do that. In the time we spent together I have come to realize that going back would destroy him and I don’t want that to happen. If you know him less after being with him since he was born than I do after one year, I feel sorry for you.” Somehow, that also made the creature stop pressing the issue after that moment.
That didn’t mean I could rest easy from then on, since any mention of school still scared me and Andra was in college, so it was obviously mentioned often. Still, it no longer was about me, the danger of me being forced to go again appeared gone, so I could slowly start to step away from this constant fear. A lot of damage had already been done, but at least there would be no more, at least not for that reason.

I found some statistics on a site once, back when I was still in school, which said that real cases of severe school or workplace anxiety are very rare, only about 200 per year worldwide. However, about 100000 people claim to suffer from this condition each year in order to get away from school or work, which makes such claims be very suspicious and worsens the situation of those who actually have this problem even more, because they’re seen as liars. That site also said that only 22% of those who truly suffer from this condition can be cured, while 45% will sooner or later reach a point where they can no longer fight the fear and have to give up school and work for good. The rest will fight the fear all their lives, which will take a severe toll on their health. Interestingly, as I later found out, that last psychologist I saw had told my parents from the beginning that he had treated a few such cases in the past and the chance of a cure is only 20%, so he will try, but it doesn’t look too good. The numbers seem to match…
I still have to wonder why are people put through this, why are they forced to fight battles they can’t win in a desperate attempt to fit the mold society says they should fit? Why can’t society find ways to let such people, people like myself, put their skills to use in areas that interest them without fighting a losing battle against themselves for a chance to do it?