My son

When my son started school Kindergarten went great.  I have to wonder if that is because it was only half a day.

Because come Grade 1 when he was there full days, it was at least three times a month I would get a phone call asking me to come and pick him up.  He had hurt another student and was suspended.

Come Grade 2 and on till Grade 4 I got those phone calls at least once a week if not more.  The T.A’s would each have an arm and a leg, while another would hold his head.  They would carry him down the hallway like that to the principal’s office.  Where I would get my phone call or page to the office to come and get him and take him home.  At one point in Grade 4 while they were carrying my son like that he was struggling to get out of there grasp and accidentally kicked one of the teachers and now because he hurt a staff member he was expelled from school this time.  So they arranged for him to go to another school right away.

At the next school it was just before Christmas that his teacher upset him and then said that my son punched her in the stomach.  To this day, he will say he never punched her or hit her at all.  But because he already had the “bad boy” label they took the teacher’s word even though no one else saw this happen.  And once again he was expelled from school.

From there he went to tutoring for one hour each day from January till the end of June.  When there was about one week left of the school year we went for a tour of his next school which would be his school from Grade 6 till Grade 8.  Fingers crossed that this one would last for the whole three years as we were running out of school’s in our area.

So September comes, and school starts.  He LOVES his teacher which is great.  He did get in trouble still but not as often or as bad as he had before.  The principle and vice principal were great with him.  I was so impressed with them.  Grade 6 went off great.

September of Grade 7 comes and I just keep praying that this year will be the year where I get no phone calls to come and pick him up.  I got the phone calls but again less often than the year before.  It was actually getting to the point where during the day I wouldn’t cringe when the phone rang.

That is until June 24th, 2010. I was almost walking out the door to go and pick my son up from school to take him for his doctor’s appointment.  I was going to be leaving in 10 minutes tops.  The phone rang, I didn’t think it could be the school because my son knew I was coming to get him.

It was the school, it was the acting vice principal that was calling asking me to come to the school right away.  So I hopped in the vehicle and off I went to the school.  As I am about to turn onto the street the school is on  I see the vice principal standing in the opening to the bay the school is on.  And I see her telling someone that they can’t go into the bay or that’s what I believe she is saying because I am not there yet.  When I get there she is coming to my vehicle, she starts to say that I can’t go into the bay then realizes it’s me.  She lets me go past her into the bay.

As soon as I turn onto the bay I see my son sitting in the middle of the road in the bay.  I can’t figure out why he is just sitting there in the middle of the road.  So I park and the vice principal is at my window. I ask her what is going on?   She tells me that the school is on lockdown because my son said he had a knife in his backpack which he didn’t and they knew that because they looked through his backpack but kept the school on lockdown because my son decided that he would run out of the school and stand in traffic in order to get killed.  The vice principal had to call the police because my son wouldn’t get out of traffic and they needed the police to direct traffic or help get him out of traffic.  I assume that once my son knew the police were coming that he got out of the main road but decided the bay road was just as good. He see’s me and comes over to where I am.  He tells me that he’s ready to go to his doctor’s appointment which I have now had to call and say we wouldn’t be making it.  But I am bawling hysterically so I have to get another staff member from the school to explain why I won’t be bringing my son to the appointment.  That instead he will be going to Children’s Emergency to have a Psych evaluation done.  I have to keep telling my son that he can’t get in the vehicle, that we aren’t going to his doctor’s appointment.  That I can’t leave with him because the police have already been called and are on there way.  He is pissed now because I won’t let him in the vehicle so I get out of the vehicle and go inside the school.  I can’t stop crying, I don’t know what is happening even though I have been told what is happening.  I couldn’t register what they were actually saying to me.

So I go into the principal’s office and sit in a chair and bawl.  The secretary who happened to be a friend took me into the vice principal’s office so people couldn’t see me.  When I felt that I was settled enough to go back outside since that was still where my son was I got up and went outside.  Just as I am opening the door and start walking towards my son, I see two policeman walking towards him and then I see one of them pull out his handcuffs and put them on my son.  All I remember is starting to bawl again, and my knees going weak.  Next thing I knew I was back in the vice principal’s office and I had a can of coke.  One of the policeman came into the office and told me how they now had my son in the police car and were taking him to Children’s.  That he school social worker was going to follow in his car.  And then told me to stay at the school till I felt I was ok to drive or until I could find someone else to drive me to the hospital.  One of the staff at the school ended up driving me to the hospital.

Finally the Psych doctor came and spoke to my son.  I was in the bathroom while this conversation happened because they didn’t want me in the room they wanted my son to truthfully answer the questions which they thought he might not if I was in the room. When I got out of the bathroom, the Psych doctor came up to me and told me that she would like my permission to admit my son to the Psych ward.  I gave my permission.  I wanted to get him help.  I needed to get him help.  I was scared that he would try to kill himself again. I knew he was going to hate me for it.  But I had to do it. And it was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life.  I tell people that it was the worst day of my life and the best day of my life at the same time.

The best day because now I thought maybe I will get some help in understanding why he is the way he is.

Needless to say he was in the Psych ward for 2 weeks.  He had a double room, so I slept in one bed and he slept in the other.  He was diagnosed with Asperger’s. I was so happy, I finally had a diagnosis for him.  I could put a name to why he is the way he is.  I could read about it and understand it now that it had a name.

This June that will have happened 5 years ago. My son turned 17 November 25th, 2014.

November 25th, 2015 he turns 18.  He plans on killing himself that day.  I have 312 days left with him if he follows through with what he says.  His doctor’s know his plan, the school people know his plan, his grandparents now know his plan as does his dad.  They don’t think he will do it.  I however am not sure if he will or not.  I pray every day that he doesn’t.  I want my son around for a long time yet.  No parent should live longer than there child.  Or that’s my thought.


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