Don't Call Me Mum

Becoming Tom’s mum had always robbed me of the chance to sleep, and here I was, fifteen years on, alone in the dead of night, longing to be able to rest like everyone else.

When I saw the thin blue line on my pregnancy test, I dared to hope for a future of blissful motherhood.

From his very first night in the world, Tom did not sleep. By the time he was six months old, I was a single parent and almost maddened with tiredness.

At ten months, Tom could walk and became a real force of nature, leaving a trail of destruction behind him. Nobody could believe how overactive and naughty he was and I became accustomed to regular finger-pointing and blame.

Increasingly ostracised by friends and other mums, I dragged my son to every professional known to man, to no avail. Over the years, we were outcasts in every situation, school, party, outing, journey, etc, and as he grew, so did the severity of the behaviour.

Ritalin was in its infancy, attitudes were directed towards blaming the parents and schools preferred to exclude rather than to help.

Tom’s hyperactivity gave way to teenage delinquency and as he went through his teens, I was terrified that he’d finish up in prison or dead as a result of the choices he was making.

In the end, the only agency that really helped and supported us was The Youth Offending Team and I’ll always question why it ever had to get to that stage.

This is my story and I hope that as a result of telling it, I help other parents struggling with a similar daily and relentless battle to what I had.

As you listen, remember - you are not alone.