Thursday, November 26, 2009

"Help me, Mommy."

Donna, age 49. Connecticut.

My first born child, high school junior,
Handsome, hockey captain
Popular, well-liked
Calls me from the bathroom of his high school,
"Mom, something's wrong...I can't go into class..."

He sits there for hours then escapes to the outdoor bleachers,
Security finds him and escorts him back to his nightmare
"Something is wrong...I can't be here anymore...I need to go home..."
"I need to get out"

Chest pain, sweating, suffocation, heart racing, losing control in front of everyone"

"I can't risk it"
"I feel it in every classroom"
"I can't risk it"
"Help me, Mommy"

My first born child, high school junior,
Handsome, hockey captain
Suffering, in pain,
What do I do?
Forget about scholarships, even college
Just get him to graduate, will he graduate?
Does anybody remember him anymore?

Prozac, clonopin, xanax
Hospital admissions and hospital schools
The "short bus" in our driveway
Beeping so our neighbors could witness the humiliation and
The tears, fighting, expectations denied.

Am I to blame?
What have I done? To my first born son
Who had so much potential
High school senior, now special ed
Lucky if he graduates with a high school degree.
Still handsome, was a hockey captain
Not as popular but well-liked by the few he sees...

I write the college essays...
anything to get him in...
To lead a normal life...
What did I do???
I thought I put the right amount of pressure on him...
but, maybe, it was too much?

I blame myself....for the
Demise of my first born child...
We attended high school graduation but
were outsiders...didn't belong; haven't been there in a while.
Still handsome, disappointing hockey season,
Not popular anymore, few friends,
Prisoner of anxiety.
I love you, Matt.


  1. Thanks, Sarah...I don't know if you're a mom, a sufferer of anxiety or a poetry reader but I appreciate your comment!