When I first met the Clinical Psychologist

This morning I had an appointment with a clinical psychologist. Not for kiddo this time, but for me. It was a very weird sensation turning up to an appointment of this nature for free because the NHS had deemed me worthy of support. Nonetheless, I was extremely grateful.

We chatted for a bit, me tripping over my tongue at every opportunity. Kiddo had decided to wake up at 1am and my eyes were so dry I’m pretty sure they were making scratching noises when I blinked.

She asked me some questions about kiddo and I dutifully answered, yet nothing I said was making me feel like the effort and journey to this appointment was worth it. But then something clicked.

The psychologist said, “You seem very well adjusted and accepting of who your son is”, and I simply replied, “well yes, the problem isn’t with him. It’s with everybody else!”

We went on to discuss who “everybody else” was, and they fell into two categories. Professionals who made judgements about my family without having met us, or who ignored everything I said, and those people in life who just didn’t understand what it took to raise a child with such complex needs in this world. Even worse, those who didn’t WANT to understand because they either didn’t care or didnt want the burden. And in those two categories of people we discovered I held a lot of anger.

I talked a lot about positivity. Finding the even the smallest positive is always worth it in my eyes. The psychologist responded, “that’s a very hard skill to develop for a lot of people”. Without thinking I said, “ah, well, once you’ve been under the cloud of depression for several years you’ll do anything to avoid going back there”. I then realised that once again some of the most horrific years of my life were helping me through motherhood. If I didn’t know how to find happiness in the smallest of things, i would have drowned in anger and frustration by now, and then where would kiddo be?

So two things came away from today’s session. One, this anger and emotional turmoil that frequents my heart and soul daily, it’s nothing to do with my son. Two, if you can find happiness in the smallest of things you may just survive this ride with a smile on your face. Right now I’m sat in a carpark as I write this, looking out over an industrial estate having had hardly any sleep. Yet, I am totally content and peaceful. And I have a massive coffee! Kiddo is snoozing in the back and I’m taking time to do what i love most, writing.

Whatever it takes people, whatever it takes.

Thanks for reading,


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