Prepare to enter the wild and wooly world of an adult with Aspergers Syndrome, a form of autism characterized by intellignce, quirks, social difficulties and downright strange and oddish behaviours.

People with Aspergers generally are high functioning in everyday life but have great difficulty connecting with others due to the inability to read faces, body language and subtle verbal clues. They also tend to take words literally and have a hard time multi-tasking.

Oversensitivity to touch (clothing has to be soft and often the tags removed), light (do not leave home without the sunglasses), sound (loud noises and noisey places are avoided), taste (many Aspies have quite a limited diet and are frequently very picky eaters) and smells makes the everyday existence more of a challenge.

Fasten your seatbelts and come on in...
To find out more about what Aspergers is..please check out my earliest blog entries

Saturday, May 24, 2014

A Message from the Grave...a dream

I had a most unusual dream last night. I was on my knees looking through books, an old scrapbook in particular, and I look up. A few feet away stands my recently deceased abuser, my dad. He has those sorrowful eyes of regret and remorse. He doesn't approach me or tap me on the shoulder but patiently kept his distance till I noticed him.
 I looked at him and said, "you didn't have to do this," to go to all the trouble, great links to find me. I knew he had to contact different people, follow a trail of info, clues, went to great lengths to locate me.
 I had no fear. There was nothing negative about this at all. I kinda smiled with pleasant amusement and surprize to see him.
 He said, as clear as day, "I didn't want to leave things as they were." And he stretched out his hand with a business card in it. (I believe it to be symbolic of some type of gift.)
 I, without hesitation, took the card. He was repaying me, giving me some sort of gift that he went to great lengths to secure. He wants to help me in some way, shape or form.
 I woke up.
Something, something big, unexpected and positive will come into my life shortly. And he, my dad, will have had a hand in making it happen. I can feel it.
 I'll keep you updated.

Monday, May 19, 2014

The Depth of Human Evil......Trigger ALERT

Therapy today. Very, very physically and emotionally challenging. One of my roughest sessions to date. It's been about seven hours...and the realizations, the ramifications have surfaced.
 I won't go into detail. Sometimes I worry that a pedophile or unstable abuser will get ideas. I don't need to write it to know that it is absolutely true. It is still a fresh, raw wound.
 I'm astounded at the horrendous acts that can be thought up, passed down from generations and perpetrated against children. Horror is the closest word I can find.
 I was tortured. There is no other way to put it. I was tormented and threatened. My heart was filled with terror. My throat was silenced in fear. My dad managed to get me alone, put me in an....extremely violent position whereby he could have easily killed me in an instant. I, for awhile, when this took place at seven, firmly believed that he was actually going to kill me this time. It was that painful and precarious a situation. I came so close to death at his hand.
 As he tortured me, threatened me, he created a phrase,a code word so that every time he said the word, I would relive and remember his tortured threat. To give you some probably took me anywhere from 10-20 minutes to actually, verbally break through the wall and say the code word. It had that much power and fear over me. Yeah, try spending even ten minutes saying one single word. There was massive resistance and an outpouring of scattered, deep emotion.
 This one "incident" was so severe, that it could have easily put someone in therapy for a year. So damaging and destructive. It will take me awhile to sort it all out. So much terror, pent-up. Figuring out how to let go and process.
 No child, much less an innocent animal, should ever, ever have to endure the torture I lived through. I am astounded that I was able to continue to live a quasi-functional life after this incident.
 More later.

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Prayer for Healing

I hate mothers day

I really do. I detest those "social norms" that I cannot escape and that punch me in the face at every turn. I refuse to go online to see those drippy, dreary sentiments directed at others And myself. I hate being reminded that some people have caring mothers. I hate that mine was a coconspirator bitch who mistreated me so And yet demanded flowery shows of devotion and undying loyalty.
I won't go outside, as every frickin idiot who walks by wishes me a happy mothers day as if I'm something to be admired for raising kids that...haven't exactly turned out to be stellar citizens.
 I really hate that Grandma is dead. She was the closest thing I ever had to a caring mother. Maybe that's why I really hate this day, more especially this year.
 Yeah, last year I finally told my mother that I am no longer her daughter. Best fucking move I'd made in awhile.
 So some people have loving mom memories. I guess I'm jealous, too.
 Thanks mom for all the hatred, the slaps, the inability to look at me, hold me, show genuine affection and, of course, the complete inability to love me one iota. Thanks for applying the make up for covering bruises and telling me cover stories to tell others. Thanks for the years of physical starvation when help Was available. Thanks for forcing me to lie. Thanks for letting dad molest me and for accepting that it was okay. Thanks for sacrificing me to save yourself. Thanks for denying my allegations, you know, the ones you knew were true, to save my brothers and sisters from knowing dad was a bastard, incestuous, pedophile.  Thanks for rarely taking me to the doctor, telling me it was "all in my head" and that I must be making up my physical pains. Thanks for getting mad, upset and isolating me when I was sick, instead of giving a fuck and nursing me back to health. Thanks for breaking so many brushes beating us. Thanks for making us feel sorry for you when you hurt your hand beating one of us. Thanks for allowing dad to beat us and making us think it was normal and we deserved you. You fucking sorry excuse for a mother. Thanks for the truly miserable, pain wracked years of my childhood. Thanks for falsely making me believe you gived a shit. Thanks for never letting me know what it felt like to be safe and loved. Thank you for allowing me to endure weekly rape from your husband. Thank you for taking away any sense of self-identity I may have had. Thanks for telling me about stranger danger but accepting the incest. You were a sorry, pissant excuse for a mother. You are a hollow, empty, deplorable person who should never have been "blessed" to have so many children. Yeah, fuck you, bitch.
 I deplore all holidays, but this one head and shoulders above the rest. And I'm supposed to "celebrate" and be honored and shit. Fuck it. I should just stay in bed.
 I can't stand it. Can't wait for this day to be over.

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Baby Doll poetry

The Number of Child Sexual Abuse Survivors in the US

We have all heard the numbers; 1 in 4 girls and 1 in 6 boys will be sexually abused before they turn 18. Here are the approximate numbers of adults living with child sexual abuse.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Monday, May 5, 2014

Writing about childhood physical and sexual abuse

One of my favorite photos. A repost. This says a lot about who I am and the factors that impacted me.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Friday, May 2, 2014

Great article on Lyme

Yeah, I have my down days where I look at how many weeks I've felt pretty awful. The days, like today, where I spend an hour wagering whether or not taking a bath is worth the energy expenditure and the down time, the fatigue.
I'm just wondering if or when I'll ever get better. Will I ever be able to have a semi normal day? There is so much I'd love to accomplish from painting my room, to cleaning closets, mowing the lawn, cooking a decent supper and creating art. Sigh. I'm at the mercy and whim of this disease and my best guesses as to treatment and input and help from my doctor.

It was another day, mostly on the couch, but I did manage a big trip to the grocery store. Really? Are things like shopping going to be the highlights of my life? Honestly, I don't know. Hoping for the best.
Day three of a small dose of my new antibiotic that makes me dizzy and headachy, but I think it's helping. Realistically, based on the life cycle of the Lyme bacteria/ parasite, any treatment protocol won't see conclusive results for at least a month, more likely 3-6 months.
Working on staying optimistic:) Need to plan a fun, creative project that I can work on in short 15-30 minute bursts. I'd love to create something beautiful, playful, insightful...hey, that about sums up the majority of my art.
Art, sounds like a long lost friend that I haven't had a chance to talk with in many moons, like a stranger that knocks on the door and runs away before I can drag my sorry ass off the couch. entire life revolves around this disease.
Still fighting the good fight. Research continues. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel just a wee bit better:) A girl can hope.
This is a fascinating article I found. I searched "Cured of Lyme Disease."

Guest blogger Jennifer Crystal says there is no "magic secret" to getting over chronic Lyme disease.

After each blog I post, I receive dozens of emails from Lymies asking what I did to get better. People question whether I tried certain treatments, whether I’ve considered herbal therapies, whether I can tell them the magic secret to getting over chronic tick-borne disease. Rather than continue to email the same response, I thought it might help to address these questions in a post.

The first and more important thing I must tell you is that there is no magic secret. There is no set protocol for treating tick-borne diseases, because every case is different. Variables such as duration of infection without treatment, spread of infection to different areas of the body and brain, and presence of co-infections make it impossible for doctors to treat any two cases the same way. Lyme manifests itself in myriad ways, and people respond differently to various treatments. Some patients suffer more from joint pain, while others’ chief complaints are neurological. It’s important to find a Lyme-literate physician who can assess which treatments are best for your specific case. My LLMD spent two hours with me on our first visit getting my complete medical history; since that appointment, I’ve felt confident that he is treating the patient, not just the disease. That’s half the battle in conquering complex cases.

The other little known secret that I must make clear is that I am not cured. The positive, reflective tone of my posts, peppered with details of my now-full life, may make it seem like I am back to 100%. Unfortunately, it is very rare for someone whose illnesses went undiagnosed and untreated as long as mine did—whose Lyme crossed the blood brain barrier—to be cured. As we all know, spirochetes are hard to kill because they spiral and evade even the most powerful treatments. And as I learned when I relapsed in 2007, one spirochete left dormant in the body can silently replicate, like cancer cells, and attack with great force when the body shows any vulnerability.

After many years of a combination of treatments which I will discuss further in this piece and in future posts, I am proud to report that I am in remission. It’s always possible that I could relapse, and I must be especially careful in times of stress to listen to my body and nip flare-ups in the bud. I still have limitations. I must rest every afternoon, without exception, or I will hit a wall and meltdown physically and mentally like an overtired child. I’m hyper-vigilant about maintaining good sleep hygiene, so my body gets adequate rest and recovery time, and so I do not slip into the dark days of insomnia and hallucinogenic nightmares that I fought so hard to overcome. I still take a low dose oral antibiotic to keep the spirochetes at bay, as well as a host of herbal and nutritional supplements to keep things, as my doctor says, “humming along.”

Most importantly, I pace myself. My physician’s assistant once told me that the biggest mistake Lymies make is they push too hard when they start to feel a little better, and then crash. Who among us hasn’t done this? Back when I was bedridden on intravenous antibiotics, I itched to get moving, to rejoin the world of the living. As soon as I felt the tiniest surge of energy, I started physical therapy. I cycled thirty seconds on a stationary bike and wound up in bed for three days. I learned that we have to bottle up reserves of energy, so that we have more than fumes to go on when our tanks slip unexpectedly to empty. To use another analogy, a naturopathic doctor once told me, “Think savings, not credit card spending.”

The trick to this pacing, of course, is learning your body’s signals. Just as there is no set protocol for treating tick-borne illnesses, there is no set formula for living with them. It takes me much longer to do my schoolwork now than it would have in the old days, because I know if I read too much at once, the brain fog will start to roll in. I consider what my energy expenditure will be for the day—will I walk to school? Do I need to run errands?—when deciding whether I should do laundry, or unload the dishwasher, or if I should just save those tasks for another day. Do I get this balance right all the time? Absolutely not. Sometimes I push too hard and I pay for it. But I am at a point where I spend more time fine-tuning my self-care than crashing and burning, and that makes day-to-day living much, much easier. That makes it possible for me to attend class, to socialize with friends, to spend a morning skiing. To live a relatively normal life.

It’s taken years for me to get to this point, and one of the biggest hurdles I had to overcome was accepting tick-borne illness as part of my life. For so long I fought against it; I’d get angry at my body when it didn’t respond to treatment, get angry at myself for not taking better care, get angry at the Lyme for ruining for my life. After my relapse, I realized that Lyme would always be a part of my life, and it was up to me to decide if it—or I—would be in control. That’s not to say I’ve resigned to the illness. I still hope for a cure, I still work with my doctor to get even healthier. But I’m willing to take the Lyme with me on that ride. I know that working with, instead of fighting against, my limitations, only gives me more energy in the long-run.

Sometimes I think of Lyme recovery in terms of the stages of grief. There is a well-known acronym, SARAH, which stands for Shock, Anger, Rejection, Acceptance, Healing. It’s tough for Lymies to move from rejection to acceptance, especially when they feel so sick. It takes time and a lot of treatment to have the mental capacity to even consider the acceptance stage. Once you do, though, healing is just around the corner.

Here is a general list of things I’ve done to help get better. I can talk about some of them in more depth in future posts.

Antibiotics: Lyme is a bacterial infection. Nothing kills spirochetes like antibiotics. The type of antibiotics, and the best method of administration, is different for everyone. However, it’s important for everyone to take some sort of probiotic, to avoid intestinal yeast overgrowth, which can occur when antibiotics kill good bacteria in the stomach along with the bad.
Herbal and nutritional supplements: In my personal experience, herbs that work against tick-borne illnesses are an excellent adjunct therapy to—but not a replacement for—antibiotics. Nutritional supplements help to replenish nutrients that may be depleted due to the disease or treatment. Only your doctor can decide which combination of the many supplements available is best for your case.
Gluten-free, sugar-free diet: Along with probiotics, this diet helps to keep yeast at bay. For some people, gluten and sugar also weaken the immune system and encourage spirochete growth. This diet has helped me to regulate blood sugar, which can be a problem for those suffering from the co-infection babesia.
Psychotherapy: Illness of any kind can create serious havoc in your life and the lives of your loved ones, and can lead to anxiety and depression. An empathetic but goal-oriented therapist helped me to deal with the many ramifications of my illness.
Integrated Manual Therapy: This is a type of hands-on therapy, like massage or Reiki, that, at the most basic level, helps to get different systems of the body working healthily. It can include cranial-sacral therapy and neurofascial processing. For more information, visit
Neurofeedback: Like biofeedback, this non-invasive treatment helps train the brain, using its own information, to perform better. This treatment is the only one that began to touch my insomnia and nightmares, and I still do maintenance sessions. For more information, visit
Physical Therapy: It’s important to find a Lyme-literate therapist who understands not to push a Lymie past capability. It is also imperative not to start physical therapy until enough of the bacteria has been eradicated that you are really ready. For me, starting too soon only spread the toxins around my body and caused more harm than good. Once I was ready, a very slow buildup (one minute on the bike for a week, 1:15 the next, 1:30 the next) eventually got my stamina and muscles back up to speed.
- See more at:

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

I value myself