School Trauma?

Thinking about my school days, in preparation for my autism assessment, uncovered some previously well buried memories and released a lot of suppressed emotions I certainly wasn't expecting. The short answer is that I have been left very traumatised by school. I developed anxiety which got progressively worse and it has had a lifelong significant negative impact on my self esteem and confidence. If you want the (much) longer answer then read on.

My trauma started aged 3 at nursery school. I remember being very excited about going, believing that I was going to school to learn to read and write. However what I experienced was nothing like I was expecting and it was a huge assault on the senses. I wouldn't have anything to do with the other children. I didn't understand or show any interest in the stupid 'play' learning they were expecting of me. It was the playtimes in the playground that were by far the worst. I remember the overwhelming screaming and unbearable noise from the other children. I had to get as far away as possible from those strange creatures and if I couldn't I would meltdown. 

I don't remember exactly what my 'behaviour' was but I clearly remember the trauma of the frequent punishments I was given. Once back inside the teacher would make me sit cross legged in the corner, facing the wall for the rest of the school day. The more I cried the more the teacher shouted at me for 'acting like a baby'. To this day I do not really understand what it was that I was being punished for.

Eventually the teachers couldn't cope with my 'behaviour' any longer and they asked my mum to come into the school during playtime every day to look after me. She would take me to a quiet area, well away from the other children, so that I would remain calm. 

In infant school the main trauma I experienced was from the overwhelming environment of the school dining hall. The plates clanging, chairs scraping, cutlery, the noise from the other children, the dinners ladies shouting at me, the revolting smells. All of that sensory overload meant I was far to upset to eat anything, even though I would eat at home. The school kept asking my mum to write lists of foods I would or wouldn't eat, but that didn't make any difference. I was too traumatised to eat anything at all. I believe it was my early experiences in that dining hall which resulted in my lifelong fear of eating in front of other people. For the remainder of my time at school I had to go home for lunch every day.

It came to light during my autism assessment that my infant school teachers had tried to get me transferred to a special school, due to my 'behaviour' and they said I was 'spastic'. I assume this label was due to my undiagnosed dyspraxia, which caused a lot of balance and co-ordination problems. I also had the classic autistic toe walk and would drag my feet and lag a long way behind if they tried to get me to walk with the other children.

I wonder how my life might have turned out if the teachers had got their way and had me transferred to a special school. Back then (in the 1970s) there was a huge stigma around those schools and I suspect the school trauma may have been just as bad (in different ways). Plus it is unlikely I would have had the opportunity to achieve any qualifications.

In primary school I still could not be persuaded to go into the playground, as I found the noise too overwhelming. I would plead with my teachers to let me stay in the classroom and do extra maths questions instead.

I developed school anxiety and my attendance was very poor. I was often off school with various vague physical symptoms like 'tummy ache'. I suspect these were anxiety induced and there might have been a high correlation between my absences and my PE lesson timetable! My anxiety was much worse on a Sunday, with the dread of having to go back to school the following day.

Towards the end of my time at primary school things did improve slightly, as I had the stability of having the same (and nicer) teacher for several years. I also loved maths and it became a special interest of mine, so much so that I was always top of the class in that subject.

The move to secondary school, two different and equally rough comprehensives in my case, was where things started to get extremely difficult for me. The huge changes were so hard to cope with. Having to follow a timetable, constantly switching focus between lessons, having hundreds of pupils all jostling and pushing in the school corridors, the unbearable noise everywhere, the school bells, all the different teachers, teachers who were incapable of controlling the class, the cruel name calling and bullying, the school uniform, I could go on... I hated all of it and was so out of my depth. I didn't manage to make any real friends.

It was at secondary school where my situational mutism got significantly worse. My school reports said I needed to speak up more in class, but I was unable to. Certain teachers seemed determined to try and make me speak and would randomly ask me questions. Of course I could not answer, even if I knew the answer I could not get the words out. My anxiety became out of control and was much worse in those lessons. I was constantly anxious, in case the teacher was going ask me another question, and I could not think clearly or concentrate on learning anything.

The break times were a daily nightmare for me. All the overwhelming noise in the corridors and playgrounds was unbearable sensory overload. I no longer had a classroom I could stay in, like I used to at primary school. I would try and hide inside the school, but when found by a teacher or prefect I would be sent outside, to become an easy target for the school bullies.

I started to truant more and more, as I couldn't cope with school any longer. I would often attend morning and afternoon registration, to avoid my attendance record getting flagged, and then leave the school grounds completely. In those days schools weren't fenced and gated like they seem to be now.

The noise and crush of the school grounds and corridors around the start and end of school was also far too overwhelming for me. I would hang around just outside the school grounds until most pupils were inside and then attempt to go in. Of course that meant I was often late, for which I would be given detention. I didn't mind too much, as having detention also meant I could avoid the afternoon rush of hundreds of pupils leaving at the end of the school day.

My truancy and frequent detentions had the surprising benefit of giving me some kudos with the school bullies. Although I was still the quiet, weird one I think I became more of a fellow rebel and less of a target.

In my last couple of years of secondary I practically dropped out completely. It was around the time of the teachers strikes, so my increasingly frequent absences were not really noticed or questioned.

I returned to sit my exams but I had missed so many lessons that my revision notes were severely lacking. I had no textbooks at home, no friends whom I could ask to copy lesson notes. Unsurprisingly I failed many of my O Levels.

I didn't have a clue what to do next, so I attended a 6^th Form College and did A Levels in the maths and science subjects I had passed at O Level. The environment there was better than school, but still far too noisy and busy for me. I used to attend for my lessons and exams but that was all. My teachers described me as an enigma because I barely spoke, couldn't answer verbal questions and never asked them any questions. It seemed to surprise them when I passed written tests or exams.

Outside of lessons couldn't stand the environment and I just had to get out of there. I had absolutely no interest in the constant chatter about university applications by my fellow students. I knew there was no way I could cope with the social demands of university and I wanted out.

If I'd been able to have home schooling I probably could have achieved so much more and suffered a lot less trauma. However my home life was also very difficult. My parents were divorced and my mum had a string of failed relationships, so there were frequently a lot of arguments at home. My mum was also in and out of hospital a lot. I was 'looked after' by elderly relatives when my mum was in hospital but then when she came home I effectively became her carer.

I did try to explain how much I hated school but my fears were dismissed. I was repeatedly told that my school days would be the best days of my life and that I should make the most of it and enjoy them. I remember thinking “if this is the best life has to offer I've had enough already”.

I believe I first learned that I had to mask my sensory distress and suppress my emotions at a very young age in nursery school. I learned the hard way that if I did not I would be punished. I have continued to internalise so much throughout my life. Watching that Kieran Rose video, posted on here recently, made me realise just how much I had to mask at school. The person I could have been in life was never given a chance to fully develop

Autonomistic said:

I was repeatedly told that my school days would be the best days of my life and that I should make the most of it and enjoy them. I remember thinking “if this is the best life has to offer I've had enough already”.

I thought that too.  And now, after joining a Facebook group for my year group way back from 1974 - 79, I can see that the majority had a completely different experience and actually look back on those years very fondly.  Many of them will say that their school days were the best days of their lives.  They'll also say that they were poor but happy back in those days.  I was poor and actually deeply unhappy about it!  Perhaps they're looking through rose-tinted glasses but, given all of their other comments and chats, it seems genuine enough.  And yes, when I listen to Kieran and other autistic advocates, I realise just how much it cost me to remain in such places - the masking, the subterfuge (to successfully escape those occasions which felt really impossible), the denial of my true feelings, all for decades beginning in reception class.  

I definitely wonder about the people we could have been, had we been in environments that were more in keeping with our natures, but I'm still hoping we can recapture some of that, even much later on in life.  And it is interesting to allow more of those genuine feelings and thoughts to come to the fore, now that there's more awareness of what actually happened back then and what it meant for us.  I wish it could have been different, of course, and I feel damaged by it all, but I also think that the "salvage operations" I'm now engaged in are allowing me to reach a depth and richness in life that I wouldn't otherwise have known.  I didn't have the word for masking even, so although I could always feel myself shifting gears in different situations, with a definite wall coming up, I previously didn't really have the tools to pare down the false from the genuine, which leaves an internal mess and confusion, I think.          

Autonomistic said:

The short answer is that I have been left very traumatised by school. I developed anxiety which got progressively worse and it has had a lifelong significant negative impact on my self esteem and confidence

I did read your long answer and it strikes lots of familiar notes.  But yes, the trauma is significant and very often lifelong too.  Anxiety is a major consequence and something I've often felt blamed for.  Perhaps I wasn't taking "therapy" seriously or implementing any of their "helpful" tools or advice, or simply desensitising myself by "fake it til you make it" approaches?  I was often assailed with comments along the lines of, "Well, everyone gets that, you just have to get on with it!"  Whereas I now realise that, no, everyone wasn't like that at all.  The magnitude of the anxiety and the sense of awkwardness, isolation and difference were overwhelming whereas those criticising me got a little nervous and rapidly overcame it.  They also didn't suffer from the kind of social exclusion that makes it much much worse.  Just a little understanding and a few adjustments in the environment would have made a huge difference.  

i'm really sorry you went through all of that and I just hope that greater understanding can still make some difference, even now.      

Autonomistic said:

I was repeatedly told that my school days would be the best days of my life and that I should make the most of it and enjoy them. I remember thinking “if this is the best life has to offer I've had enough already”.

I thought that too.  And now, after joining a Facebook group for my year group way back from 1974 - 79, I can see that the majority had a completely different experience and actually look back on those years very fondly.  Many of them will say that their school days were the best days of their lives.  They'll also say that they were poor but happy back in those days.  I was poor and actually deeply unhappy about it!  Perhaps they're looking through rose-tinted glasses but, given all of their other comments and chats, it seems genuine enough.  And yes, when I listen to Kieran and other autistic advocates, I realise just how much it cost me to remain in such places - the masking, the subterfuge (to successfully escape those occasions which felt really impossible), the denial of my true feelings, all for decades beginning in reception class.  

I definitely wonder about the people we could have been, had we been in environments that were more in keeping with our natures, but I'm still hoping we can recapture some of that, even much later on in life.  And it is interesting to allow more of those genuine feelings and thoughts to come to the fore, now that there's more awareness of what actually happened back then and what it meant for us.  I wish it could have been different, of course, and I feel damaged by it all, but I also think that the "salvage operations" I'm now engaged in are allowing me to reach a depth and richness in life that I wouldn't otherwise have known.  I didn't have the word for masking even, so although I could always feel myself shifting gears in different situations, with a definite wall coming up, I previously didn't really have the tools to pare down the false from the genuine, which leaves an internal mess and confusion, I think.          

Autonomistic said:

The short answer is that I have been left very traumatised by school. I developed anxiety which got progressively worse and it has had a lifelong significant negative impact on my self esteem and confidence

I did read your long answer and it strikes lots of familiar notes.  But yes, the trauma is significant and very often lifelong too.  Anxiety is a major consequence and something I've often felt blamed for.  Perhaps I wasn't taking "therapy" seriously or implementing any of their "helpful" tools or advice, or simply desensitising myself by "fake it til you make it" approaches?  I was often assailed with comments along the lines of, "Well, everyone gets that, you just have to get on with it!"  Whereas I now realise that, no, everyone wasn't like that at all.  The magnitude of the anxiety and the sense of awkwardness, isolation and difference were overwhelming whereas those criticising me got a little nervous and rapidly overcame it.  They also didn't suffer from the kind of social exclusion that makes it much much worse.  Just a little understanding and a few adjustments in the environment would have made a huge difference.  

i'm really sorry you went through all of that and I just hope that greater understanding can still make some difference, even now.