The reason you're struggling? Because it's HARD
It's the week of assessment and pressure is mounting
(I do not look like this right now; I look like a foot. But hey, it’s nice to remember that this version of me is still in there somewhere)
Hello dear readers. I had said I’d keep you posted on our assessment journey for our son and so, as we are finally at assessment week, I wanted to write in. This post is perhaps more for myself than for anyone else. Writing here on Substack can feel a lot like releasing a mental steam valve, and one that I am extremely grateful for. Maybe it’s because writing is so solitary. It’s healing, this weaving together of all the loose strands of thought and worry and guilt and regret that echo in my mind. I can breathe here, going at my own pace, making sense of things without having to worry at the moment about another person’s side of the conversation, what they might think or worse, suggest. I can’t imagine not having the solace of writing as we move through life’s sticky bits. But back to the subject at hand.
Our assessment is on Thursday and I recently recorded a podcast with the same clinical psychologist who’s leading it (Claire Conlon of The Caterpillar Clinic), should it be of help to anyone on the same trajectory. The assessment itself will be no more than 90 minutes in person, involving lots of play and, as I’ve framed it to my son, ‘finding out more about his strengths and superpowers’. And that’s true; it’s not just about finding out where he’s struggling, but the more encouraging areas of his development, which we could lean into even more. I worried that that alone could hardly give a clear indication of whether or not he’s neurodiverse and where on the spectrum he lands but Claire assures me that the assessment is carefully designed in such a way, taking into account plenty of background information, to help pull together a comprehensive report. She will take our previous report from our Occupational Therapist into play, as well as bring in either her own OT or Speech and Language Therapist to round out her assessment. As with the OT, I have about three or four intake forms to fill out which give more information. This puts any of the worries I have about the morning of the assessment itself to rest, such as: ‘But what if he’s in great form and is super regulated and he comes across like every other kid when that is not our daily experience?’ or, conversely, ‘what if he’s in terrible form and she sees a version of him that appears to struggle so much more than we think he does?’
It feels oddly well-timed to finally be here as it has gotten so so so much more difficult recently, and if I don’t get more clarity soon on how his little brain works and the best approach to support him, I’ll fucking explode. It feels like we are reaching a crescendo, which, in the absence of the pre-scheduled assessment, would see me spiral (and I’ve done plenty of spiralling, even knowing we’re getting the support we need). I’m clinging onto Thursday for dear life if I’m being honest.
What I share on Instagram about our day-to-day struggles is the tiniest fraction of what it’s really like.