Oops - another long one. Sorry! Considering deleting big chunks, but I'll just let most people skip over instead - this board is where I have found my sanity when it just all seems too hard, when I feel alone, when I question everything I am doing because everyone around me tells me I am doing it wrong, and that if I just treated my kids like everyone else they would BE like everyone else, and DS in particular wouldn't be so high needs if I hadn't spoiled him and made him high needs.... I think the most important thing I get from this board is a little more confidence to be the parent my child seems to need, and to accept that those needs are high, and unusual. And the occasional venting/ sympathy when I feel like I just can't do it any more - from people who will remind me of progress and encourage me to keep at it, not tell me my effort was never needed in the first place. So I am (over) sharing it back.
So to TheIdealist - yes, in so many ways, to everything you are saying. It's exhausting. At one point this spring, we went on a homework strike, not because of DS, but because *I* just couldn't take it anymore. Pretty much every day I'm wondering if I'm ruining this kid by letting him get away with too much, or am I helping build his (non-existent) resilience by not demanding more than he can take without breaking? He's so easily broken, this one, and the confidence has never been there: it's so difficult to find the line between accommodating anxiety and feeding it.
I think by nature I am the sort of person who tends to pussyfoot around issues rather than confront directly. But I find the more I tell my kids directly about my concerns for them, what I am thinking and worrying about, why I am asking them to do certain things, why I think things are working better or worse with certain teachers - - - all that stuff I instinctively tiptoe around - the better things go. This is a big part of what, practically, I mean about having them know "I've got their their backs". The more honest and explicit I am, the more I share my adult thoughts about them, with them, the more they feel in control and capable. They can see everything I am doing on their behalf, they see all the things I *wish* I could do on their behalf but just can't in a school system that does very little for either gifted or LD. When I feel like I have to push them on something - or not - I tell them exactly why I am pushing (or not), and the consequences or fears I have of not pushing. If I am worried DS is not learning how to stick to a hard task, to persevere through new and challenging problems, giving up too easy, for example, I will say so, and explain why I therefore think doing x is important. When I can't tell the won't from can't, I'll say so, ask their views, give mine, tell them what I think we need to do about it given my interpretation, and see where we get to. They're both terrible at talking about how they feel, but I still learn a lot from these conversations. I'm finding the more we talk bluntly about our weaknesses and challenges, the less weak and challenging they seem to become. (And the more publicly we discuss these issues, the more people around them open up to their own hidden challenges too, which has been an incredible experience.)
My kids seem to feel increasingly heard, validated, and - apologies for using the most over-used word ever - empowered. We are never rude or demeaning about the limitations of their schools or teachers, but I have become brutally honest in discussing the problems and why those exist, and where we keep trying for change, and where we are not likely to ever get any. It might seem demotivating to tell them "there's nothing we can do about x". But actually, it's hugely helpful for them to know you've tried, to know you too find it frustrating and unfair, and to know you are actively working with them to find plan B. Or C. Or Q, by this point.
When the existential depression hit DS 12 this spring, it was very much driven by a sense of helplessness. It started with the big "the universe will someday end, so what is the point in the human race existing when nothing we accomplish will make any difference?" It rapidly morphed into the personal, "I spend all day at school accomplishing nothing, doing nothing of value, pursuing no areas of interest to me - what is the point in *my* existing?" The world's least ambitious, least goal-oriented child, would collapse at the end of a day, concluding it was wasted, he didn't accomplish anything productive.
I will not say we have fixed this problem, by any means, but we are figuring out both how not to feed the beast, and how to instead feed it's opposite. A big piece has been figuring out how to give DS a sense of control despite spending all his time in a school system that is not only deeply unsuited to his needs, but is also aggressively determined that meeting his needs - for example through accelerated math - would be bad for him. (Our school system is very focused on social sciences, writing, executive function and fast processing speed. DS adores conceptual math, physics and CS, and has disabilities in writing, executive function and processing speed...) We spent a lot of time discussing what "productive" would look like and how we could get it. We've found a number of ways - some extremely sneaky, like by-passing the system to get high school math for actual credit, which is supposed to be impossible around here. Other changes we were able to make within his school, after he personally (Mr Shy and Anxiety!) presented his case to the principal. He's also posted notices in the local university looking for a physics mentor, signed up for drum lessons, and is looking for new tutors in programming and music composition. Did I mention this kid is notoriously the least ambitious and extrinsically-motivated I've ever known?! I am utterly shocked and mind-boggled at how he has chosen to spend his summer. Just maybe, possibly, perhaps, I could let myself believe there is some payback here for all those years of being extra gentle, of not pushing on all those issues that everyone around me thought I should be pushing.
Or maybe that doesn't have anything to do with any of this - who knows?
So I don't know if any of our experiences means anything remotely relevant in your situation. Parents always say how fast the needs of these children can change, and DS's flirting with depression has had some unanticipated positive consequences. I do know that getting busy and feeling in control of your life is a critical part of overcoming depression - and, of course, the hardest thing to do, by definition, when you are depressed. I hope something in all this babbling might trigger some some ideas, or at least leave you feeling less alone, and with some empathy for the exhaustion, and good wishes and hope for you and your son coming out the other side, better and stronger and happier for what you have learned to do to get through. And don't forget that we've got your back.
