A few days after what I have badged in my mind as “The Terrible Awful” we got a call from the Multi Agency Safeguarding Hub. A long conversation ensued where the woman at the other end of the phone made reference to “narrowly missing a serious case review” amongst other things. It would seem that finally the machinery of the state had not so much sprung into action, but certainly sat up and took notice. It’s hard not to think that this was more about arse-covering rather than concern for AJ or us as a family – but on balance it was probably more of the latter. There was to be a meeting, and case conference, and assessments, and questions, masses of questions. I wasn’t entirely sure whether to be relieved or afraid, and as it turned out, it was probably a bit of both.
To be clear, we had spent a very long time trying to dodge the long arm of social services. I feared that no good would come of it, and that intervention by another statutory authority would be harmful for all of us. In hindsight, agan, I think that was both true and not.
We were assigned a lead social worker. I was surprised to find that I liked her a lot, and I think AJ liked her too, inasmuch as he wildly resisted any form of intervention at all. She was young and pretty cool and very straightforward and to a degree, talked his language. We attended a number of excruciatingly painful case conferences attended by social services, the police, drug and alcohol services and also the CAMHS team, when they showed up. I recall one where AJ refused to speak to anyone, and another where he asked to be taken into care. That moment – of which I have had many along the way – felt akin to an out of body experience. It was as if I was detached from the situation, looking down at someone else. Kind of “I’ll wake up in a minute” territory. It is quite something to hear your own child ask someone to take them away from you. They explained that due to his age he would most likely be placed in a foyer, and then went on to explain in detail what life would look and feel like in there. It sounded horrendous. At the point at which they explained that he would have to share a bathroom, he changed his mind.
Social workers interviewed all three boys without us present. It sounds really naive now, but at the time it took me a very long time to work out that actually part of the investigation was into us as parents. The Middle One and Little M’s schools were asked for reports on their progress and welfare. The Middle One attends one of the schools in my Trust, and it felt toe-curlingly too close to home.
There was a summit to discuss findings and recommendations. This was held at The Middle One’s school, one that I am in and out of all the time for work. The absolute mortification.
So the outcome then. A very long report, that being a speed reader I rattled through at great pace. My eyes settled on the phrase “neglectful parenting”. My heart missed a beat. I went back and read it again. I wasn’t mistaken. I don’t really have words for the rush of pure fury that came internally, whilst being completely composed on the outside. I couldn’t read any further and the phrase just went round and round. I wanted to scream but didn’t and couldn’t make a sound, it was if the breath had left my body.
I think we were about two and a half years into our journey by then. A frantic, raw, desperate, heart breaking journey of trying to find help for our son. We had repeatedly tried and repeatedly failed to get the right support. We were completely and utterly physically and mentally exhausted. Broken, and yet still somehow functioning. We had told Mental Health Services over and over that we could not keep our son safe, and we had been turned away every time. There had been days where I had spent most of my waking hours begging someone to listen. I had pleaded for an inpatient bed for him, we were so afraid. I don’t know how many times I had asked by then for him to be sectioned, to no avail. As you know by now, calling the police to ask for help, and the crisis mental health team to be told we weren’t eligible to access them.
At the end of this investigative process it felt as if the state had turned all of that around and pointed the finger squarely back at us – neglectful parents. We left the room, and walking back to the car it was as if everything was swimming in front of me. Birthday parties, first days at school, afternoons in the park, bedtime stories. Love, comfort, time, understanding. Superhuman effort. Neglectful. We got into the car. Silence. And then we laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed. I think it was the shock. And then we got home and I went up to bed. It was the middle of the afternoon, but I closed the blinds, got into bed, and put my head under the covers. I had an overwhelming need to shut absolutely everything out, and in particular, the light. In the darkness I had created for myself, I felt very, very small. And neglectful.
The outcome of that review in a nutshell:
- Heavily criticised for not having involved the police more generally and specifically the night of The Terrible Awful.
- Described as neglectful parents with a failure to keep our son safe.
- Requirement to attend a parenting course ( thank god, that never materialised)
- The Middle One and Little M to be designated as “child in need”
- AJ to be considered for a service called the “edge of care” (this never materialised either)
- Attend family therapy ( yup, and this never happened)
- Continued monitoring through social services led “team around family”
It’s almost two years since we were handed that damning verdict and whilst I knew then and I know now that it is screamingly untrue, it has left a kind of indelible inking on my soul. Of all the things that you can be accused of as a parent, it’s right up there. Not good enough, found wanting, sub-standard, remedial, second-class, rubbish, and a bit shit. My overwhelming feeling was one of resignation. I did not feel able to fight any more. I was absolutely done in.
I am utterly shocked by this …how dare they? I think your reaction of laughter has firmly put that verdict in its place ❤️
Lisa, reading your beautifully written blog is both heartbreaking and inspiring. It’s a tragedy when a child has mental health issues but when parents have to fight the system to get the help that child needs, it’s a travesty. Social workers are experts at covering their backs and evading responsibility but they sank very low when they described you and your husband as “neglectful” parents. God help the children who need help whose parents don’t have your tenacity, intelligence, strength of will and sense of humour!
Sue thankyou. I am long past being angry and have found a peace in knowing that I did my best, and that I am not a bad parent. I don’t really know the system well but I imagine there are a series of boxes, gateways and other procedures that chuck a verdict out at the end, and I imagine that there is not a great deal of grey in that. I am just relieved that we avoided child protection orders on our younger two – I think that would have really broken me. Thankyou for taking the time to comment.
Horrible to read the details of what you have been through but not shocked to hear ” verdict” of the review.
Currently it seems the system is set up not to support the vulnerable and those with integrity but to shift responsibility and find a way to not have to give support or money or both to those that need it…
Those working for the system who have integrity and compassion are being forced to break their own moral code to do the job they have been give which in turn leads to more mental health issues…
I ,as you know, have more experience with sexual abuse and physical disability issues and the Benefit system around that but am very aware that there is also a huge mental health crisis out there with little regular practical support other than drugs and huge waiting lists for crisis support in most of the country…
I have always believed that speaking out and breaking social taboos is the only healthy way to create positive change and I bless you for having the courage to have started this blog Lisa… much love xx
Dearest Cass, always there to give support despite all of the difficulties you face. Thankyou my friend, and keep going. You are a role model for us all x
That report is beyond belief
I hope that who ever put their signature to it are no longer employed in this area
I really don’t know Linda. I guess though, that we aren’t alone – and ultimately – we know our truth, and we are not and never have been bad parents.
FFS! Lots of love to you all.
Thankyou! That really made me smile!
I have no words😭. This is precisely why myself and probably many others hide away our problems, for fear of this happening. I know we have been though at least two situations where the police should have been called, or drugs counsellors, but for fear of it all being thrown back at us, we remained silent and patched and clutched our lives together as best we could! I am so very sorry that you have gone/are going through such horror. Sending you love is the best I can do, and also just say, I understand xx
And I you. I know what it is to wonder if to make that call…..but I know what it is to make that call to be turned away. Damned if you do, and damned if you don’t. I hope you find your way through – keep going!
I can’t believe what I’ve just read after your previous posts, how dare They ! I think wanting to scream comes to mind.
Yes indeed. Thankyou!
Holy shit! Having read all your blog and wept as you begged and pleaded for help only to be turned away time after time and then to be accused of being neglectful parents….I’m speechless. And angry on your behalf!!!
Thankyou Amanda. It was a bit of a kick in the teeth, to put it mildly – but I have let it go. Dwelling on it doesn’t change it and it wasn’t true in any case. But yes, it was a terrible day.
Gob smacked! Indeed my gob has never been so smacked! Begging for help and NOTHING…. I can only imagine the desperation of people trying to handle somthing like this on their own.
You are so right Caroline. I think most people would just give in to it all. I think perhaps I did for a bit. But with a child to fight for you have to find some energy from somewhere. It was though, a pretty shit day.
Jesus, I am SO f*****g angry on your behalf. How dare they? Total, total arse covering. And obviously no follow up whatsoever in terms of ensuring the ‘poor children of neglectful parents’ received the programme of help they ‘needed’ – because the Social Services etc could be seen to have done their bit. Thank goodness you were able to laugh Lisa – I’m not sure that I wouldn’t have gone for their throats. You are amazing, as are your boys. Xxx
Thankyou Debbie. You just have to keep going. There is no choice really. I can’t waste any more of my energy being angry any more, I have too much needed for other things. It was never true, and I know that. That is enough, otherwise if I get eaten up by it then the state will have won. Thankyou ever so much for taking time to message – I really appreciate it x
Oh Lisa this echoes my daughters experience. All those years of loving and fighting for that child, only to be told by so called professionals that the parenting was questionable and so many empty promises made, with nothing ever materialising. So devastating and damaging when you know in your heart you’ve done everything possible for that child. It’s heartbreaking xx
Banging our collective heads against a brick wall Jill. Too awful for you to have to watch that play out – I’m sorry. You are I know an enormous support to her x
Hello Lisa. Comments on that report would have been like a stab in the heart. Of course, they’re not true. Both professionals and the community are very fast to judge parents. They aren’t the first, and probably won’t be the last you’ll encounter on your journey.
I’m going to share this with my brother who is going through the same, same but different. He finds it incredibly difficult to speak of the struggles they are facing as a family. Thanks to you and this blog he’ll know he’s not alone.
Thankyou Suzy. I hope it does help him – at least to know that there are others that have been in that place, and still are. It’s incredibly difficult to talk about – it feels so shameful and you really do feel like you’re the only one. Well, I am discovering as I write more that there is a huge number of people in the same boat – so hopefully even that knowledge is a help. Take care and thankyou
I’m constantly amazed by your resilience Lisa.
I’m glad you were and are still able to laugh.
It’s utterly incredible and sad the way in which our child social services seems to have collapsed. I can only guess that they’re chasing their tails and no-one actually fully invests and reviews a case In depth any more. So many parents at this point will just give up…. I’m sure you haven’t x
I haven’t Pam – thankyou – and I won’t. Although it is incredibly wearing on body and soul. There isn’t any choice but to carry on – and now, to try and raise awareness and make it less shameful. I have spent too long in that shadow.
I wish people would listen properly and not just tick boxes. And I wish they would follow through on their promises.
I’m so angry for you all.
Thankyou Lynn. We are more sanguine these days – we know our truth and that can’t be taken away from us x
Thank you for writing this blog. I am more than 10 years into our family’s mental health crisis.
I was tempted to start to tell our story that started with my oldest child at 22, but that’s not why I’m commenting. Reading your blog has made me feel less alone. Thank you for being so brave and honest. When you feel tired or empty or that it feels like it’s all for nothing, remember you have helped someone on the other side of the world.
Hello Lori from the other side of the world! Thankyou. It’s really good to know that in a small way – telling our truth can help someone else – even if it is simply to know that you aren’t on your own. And you’re not – there are too many people out there all muddling along, a bit broken. Take care x
Oh.My.Goodness… what utter, utter horror . My heart is literally crying. it must have been like being trapped in a Kafka novel . Please hold onto what you know to be true about how much you’ve demonstrated such love for your boys and keep roaring with laughter at anyone who says different.
It was exactly that Jo. Too awful. I struggle to think about it even now – but I can’t be angry any more – it doesn’t help me, or us. Just need to keep putting one foot in front of the other, safe in the knowledge that I did my best and that I am not a bad parent. As always Jo, thankyou x
Can I swear? Yes, good…what the fuckety fucking hell of all fuckness is that report all about! How absolutely bloody dare they! But I’m not at all surprised. They will never ever take any responsibility for their own short comings will they..oh no of course they won’t. Omg I’m fuming and it’s not even about me. I don’t know you personally but a blind man in a dark alley can see you are the farthest away from being a neglectful parent that you could get. Accessing any form of help for mental health issues is nigh on impossible and you did everything humanly possible.
10 years ago my partner and I got full custody of his son (he was 10 at the time) as his mother married a convicted sex offender and he was being neglected and abused by them. We have social services reports as thick as the yellow pages documenting how his own mother left him unattended for days with only water from the cat bowl to drink. Never washed his clothes or gave him his medication or over dosed him instead. They are the type of parent that need sorting out of someone like you. I can imagine being called that has a lasting impact on your own mental health…and to put your other 2 on child in need is just the salt in the wound.
Sorry…I’ve ranted quite enough and sorry for the earlier profanities!! Stay strong and as always I’m sending lots of love. Xxx
You totally can swear. I love a good swear. It definitely does make you feel better! Goodness your story sounds absolutely extraordinary, I’m sorry. So glad though that you got there in the end, and what a relief for you all. It sounds like that was a long old slog. It is such a shame isn’t that you feel as if you are having to fight the system? Thanks so much for your support, I really do appreciate it.
Oh Lisa, why am I not surprised. How many rooms have we sat in as a family, with the same round of questions being drilled time and time again. All the while I knew they were trying to point their damn fingers at us – as they needed someone to blame! They neglected to look at their inadequate lack of teamwork and coordination between teams. They still make me want to scream now! All those meetings where CAMHS failed to turn up, Warks health failed to turn up, Warks CC failed to turn up, also the day no one from Warks turned up to a meeting with the government health commissioner.
I don’t know how parents like us cope? Is it superhuman power that keeps us going?
Keep writing Lisa and get them to listen to our stories, as I am sure this is going to get worse- not better. It’s so sad for our young people!
I’m not sure what does keep us going Chrissie – and maybe it’s not the same thing each time. Rage? Desperation? Because you have to? All of the above, at times? I shall keep going, I can’t stop now I’ve started! Lx
As a designated safeguarding lead in a school, I read this with sadness but unfortunately not shock. Over the years I have sat in so many meetings where professionals have made bad decisions just by reading a report. I lose count of the times I have to stand up for my families and say that these people do not know my families at all, to them, they are just another case number to process. Sometimes, I have had to say that I don’t think they are taking the situation seriously enough and that I think if we don’t act that there will be serious consequences but there are many times when I have to point out that without context, reports often paint a very different picture and that sometimes we endeavour to do the right thing at the time but it may be that we are too close to see a better alternative. That is love not neglect. Sometimes they listen, often they don’t. Some are better than others at what they do, I suppose that’s true of all professionals. What frustrates me the most is when I send a requested report ,3 days before a meeting to find it hasn’t even been looked at. That is one of the reasons I try to attend all meetings, even in the holidays, to make sure my families are heard. I am so very sorry you had to endure such an awful experience. I do not know you well but even from our brief chats and following your posts, neglectful is the last word that would ever come to mind. Struggling, yes, let down, definitely, neglectful, never. I hope in my heart that the sun shines on you every day and that even in the storms, you will still be able to see a rainbow peering through the clouds and I wish happiness for you and your precious boys. XX
Thankyou Tracy that’s incredibly kind. Gosh what a job you have, I’m sure you have seen it all. It is as you know incredibly hard navigating the machinery of the state, with it’s questionnaires and box ticking and reports, and desperate lack of resources. I’m sure that it must be terribly hard working in CAMHS and Social Services and I’m sure you must need to develop a hide like a rhino in order to protect your own health, but it’s also very hard being on the receiving end of it. We are getting there I think. Bit two steps forward and one step back but overall we are moving in the right direction. Thankyou for taking the time to comment, I really appreciate it x
I have hot raging tears running down my face! How dare they! I’m indignant on your behalf. It’s as if they turned the blame onto you to distract the attention away from their failings! I had no idea how abysmal social services could be. Yes we hear about the failure of them when big headline cases hit the news, but that’s when the parents were at fault and social services did little to protect a child when they were neglected by their parents! Are they all so on guard now that they over compensate and go straight for the parents for fear they will be blamed that they didn’t do enough? It seems totally disproportionate.
Thankyou. After some time has passed I’m still not entirely sure what to make of it. It felt terribly mechanical and formulaic, kind of tick boxes fill in a load of forms and then a conclusion popped out of the bottom. I feel a bit disconnected from it now. We did meet some people in the process who I think really did care, but you could also see how much pressure they were under. I think ultimately there is simply not enough money in the system and people are stretched too thinly. Maybe!