‘Welcome to Holland’ is a well-known poem that likens becoming a parent of a child with additional needs with planning a trip to Italy, you’ve read all the books and know what to expect, yet you get off the plane and realise you’re in Holland. There's nothing wrong with Holland (I for one am partial to a pancake) but it’s not what you expected so you have to read new travel books and get your baring's.
It was hugely comforting and validating to read in the early days of pre diagnosis and awareness. I often wondered why my friends reported seeing the leaning tower of Pisa and I could only see windmills. I adapted to life in Holland like it was my life's mission; I did lots of training, read books and it soon became my area of expertise.
You can read the original poem here: https://www.emilyperlkingsley.com/welcome-to-holland
A whole new ‘autism’ world had opened up around me, and I am privileged to be part of it. However, it soon became apparent that there was a darker world at play and it comes upon you when you realise that what’s on offer for your child is not enough.
I'd started to research special educational needs (SEN) because I knew my boy wasn’t going to manage much longer without significant support. While I was researching, my life was broken into, a bag was thrown over my head and I was transported to the very dark world that I came to know as the Underworld. I was now hostage to the Drug Lords.
Welcome to the Underground
I was in a dark place and slightly delirious. The light shone brightly in my face; they were standing over me. I was so scared. But I heard messages of hope:
“He’s coping fine in school”
“He’s academically able”
Yet I felt hopeless and stuck. My eyesight came into focus and I realised I was among my child’s teachers. “What a relief”, I thought. I have know idea what happened but it must be okay. As they told me not to worry, the surroundings of the unknown faded and I could see the familiar. I returned to life, feeling quite numb.
It would take me an entire year to realise the Drug Lords had drugged me with a dangerous drug called gaslight. It’s a clever chemical that makes you think you’re crazy. While they say kind things and offer you sympathy, they inject lies and deceit, so you come away totally confused.
This pattern continued regularly and the long-term use of gaslight was taking hold in my body, and I would wake up sweating, and breathless. I went to the GP, for a check-up as at times I thought I was going to die. She said she was so sorry this was happening to me and that she’d seen it before. But she couldn’t stop it or report it, she offered more drugs and sent me on my way.
I found comrades who were more seasoned than me. They prescribed me the antidote of truth. The little red pill contained the law, our rights, and gave me insight to spot the lies.
The more red pills I took the more aware I became, the harder I fought, the smarter I was, however, the Drug Lords dug deeper and corruption was rife. You need to remember that as far as society is concerned these Drug Lords are upstanding members of the community, they are leaders of children’s services, they are commissioned to protect our most vulnerable children, they are teachers and SENCO’s and governors, and they are ALL responsible. But to the light bearers, we see the truth, they are the Drug Lords.
The dark games continued, the more I grew in confidence the worse the comeback. I found deceitful messages between the Lords, which was soul destroying but it was good evidence of betrayal. They rarely followed the law or guidelines and usually their long emails full of jargon overruled me as I couldn’t make sense of them but now I knew because I had taken the red pill.
One of my most powerful moments was reporting an email one of the Lords sent to me, full of the law and big words. It made no sense to me. Not because I didn’t have the knowledge but because I did. I did my law training, and I knew without any doubt that his long email made absolutely no sense.
Check mate!
Judgement day was approaching and rumour had it the judge was fair, but she stayed silent, never replied to my emails that reported immoral behaviour and bad conduct. The lead up became a game of traitors, and my job was to work out who was faithful and who was a traitor. If you’ve watched the popular TV series you will see that the Faithful's unwillingly get turned at night as they see it as their only chance of survival. A pleasant conversation with staff one day and the next day a contradictory follow-up email. Either I’m going crazy or they were turned in the night.
I had to keep my game plan close to my chest. I didn’t even want a game plan. I wanted my child to attend a school that would meet his needs so he could reach his potential. Read that again. I wanted my child to attend a school that would meet his needs so he could reach his potential.
That’s all this was about. I was not trying to overrule a kingdom and become queen, I was not looking for promotion or favour.
I wanted my child to be ok!
One of their game moves was telling me I needed to make my child available to see one of the Lords assistants. I have never been so scared. As a parent I have always tried to be compliant, friendly, and kind. Not as a game move but as a human being believing in mutual respect. So although I’ve had to wise up, when face to face I usually cave in. If I blocked my child from seeing a Lord I could get into all kinds of trouble – couldn't I? I was scared that the government kidnappers would take him off me for refusing to engage.
It was a powerful move from them as if he saw them I would most certainly lose. They were trying to disprove a fact my own team had assessed. I held firm and said no and repeated no.
Then the Judge spoke and ruled that I was right, and it was an unethical game plan and he didn’t need to see their Lord.
Judgement day came. It was so horrific. How did I end up in a court of law against my child’s school, while I was sat in court testifying against them, they had my child in their care. I shook all day. My nervous system beyond anything I have ever experienced.
The judge ruled 2 weeks later, apparently we won but it did not feel like a win.
Everyone celebrated apart from me because I knew the Underworld was still there. We might have won the school we wanted but it was to start 10 months later and in that time the abuse continued. More gaslight drugs, broken relationships, and still a very unhappy boy.
The trauma of leaving your children in the care of your bullies is horrific. I rationally knew no one was going to physically hurt him but I knew from the pit of my stomach that harm was being done, that he was not okay and that the truth of that would come out one day when he was safe but what could I do now? I was powerless.
This is when my trauma really set in and I lost my sense of safety. My gut feeling had gone numb.
You think we won.
This is not a win.
The Underworld is still there and one day I fully expect to be kidnapped in the middle of the night, so I sleep with a red pill in my hand, and my shoes on, ever ready, never really safe.
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