I've put on at least 10 pounds over the past two months. I know exactly why and I couldn't control it At That Time. The starvation flashbacks have abated. I'm unhappy with the way my clothes fit as well as the eating habits I've adapted. So, it's time for a decision...do I throw up my arms and just accept my condition and new dietary habits? Or do I embrace my power to change and become fit?
I choose the latter. It's time for a new regime. I'm good to go!
...and maybe I am nothing but Ether...I can't seem to connect to anyone...not even myself
seperated, divided and so far removed
invisible, incapable of being real
I think loved ones dying help remind us what life is all about...somehow actions and decisions become clearer as the trivial fluff falls to the wayside
Although, I don't mind so much if it's just the back of my head. From what I've observed, people typically have photos throughout their home, walls and desk of themselves and their loved ones. I do not. As someone who rarely looks in a mirror, I find photos...unsettling, especially of myself.
I don't recognize my self. I have to consciously say, "hey, that's me," but I don't like to. I'd rather avoid the emotional distress and just keep photos where they belong...in a drawer or on the camera.
I have a small collection of pics of my kids on the fridge. Every time I look at them I have to tell myself who they are. It's weird because I have this natural knack of guessing the correct age of every kid I see. So I know the photos are of my son at so many months or years of age.
Maybe it's my prosopagnosia, my inability to recognize faces that disturbs me so. Maybe it's my autism that is uncomfortable with eye contact, even from nothing more than a picture. Or it could be the aspect of my autism that reads too much into how someone is feeling on the inside, with a minor glance.
Could it be my DID/MPD in that I can't remember when the photo was taken and, hmm, maybe the reminders of the blackouts make me nervous?
So many various possibilities. All I know is...I don't like photographs.
I've figured that I will be living on my own shortly. The days will be filled with my son and school, puppy and walking...and then what?
Sure paying bills, buying groceries and cooking meals will be a part of everyday but what else? What do people do everyday? Go to work, take care of the kids, cook, clean...is that it? It seems rather, seriously mundane and a collection of trivialities.
I guess I don't understand what I'm doing here if it's so blah.
Eat, drink, sleep, exciting stuff.
I know that I'll be learning to live within my means. The disability check and food stamps will be my forever income so I'll get acclimated to that. My needs are few. My wants are few.
I don't want or need anyone to support me. It'd be like selling myself and my integrity all over again. What I can do is to find the right agencies to help me for life's little unexpecteds. I'm not sure I'll even qualify for casemanagment in this town, but maybe a different city. Insurance doesn't want to pay for much so I'm looking at cities with improved social service agencies and groups. Ideally, I'll live without extra assistance but it's important to know everything that is available.
Waiting feels like a slow death. I'm waiting to hear back from this, that and the other place.
I'm not worried, per se, I'm just impatient in my longing to live in my own place. Like a hidden dream that I dared never speak of has been spoken and all that hope and wish now floats at the surface, longing, longing, impatiently.
There are do many people I'd like to get away from and the painful memories inflicted. I don't want to be trapped anymore. Watch out, the lion is out of its cage and she be walking pulling me on her leash.
Life seems...funny, stupid, just one confusing embarrassing incident after another, you know? I think if I moved I'd get a chance to live in a place where I'm not known for this foolish antic, that emotional outburst or as the one who said that ridiculous thing or sent out that stupid email. Every time I reach out, communicate outwards, it's more likely to haunt me or slap me in the face than help.
I collect the negative memories real good. Getting rid of them, not so good.
There comes a point whereby everytime I look at someone my failures or errors just sting me and slap me down. I see epic fails all around and there is no free space, no place to look that doesn't hold one of my epicfails.
Guess I need to buy a better attitude or spend more time with my eyes closed.
Is life really nothing more than a collection of chores, food and watching tv?
No comprendo
I took 1 1/2 year old Rosebud in for her shots yesterday. My vet is one of the best and explained a number of things to me.
Rosebud is a perfect example of a Boston in size, coloring and weight.
At 11 lbs, she is fully grown and falls into the smallest of the three Boston weight categories which is just Perfect for me.
She can't have nylabones or any toys that she can chew pieces off of. She is allowed these Kongs to chew on or only natural snacks like carrots or apples.
There are two types of Bostons, Hardy and Highly Sensative. Of course, Rosebud fits into the latter category just like me. I need to rotate her food which is gluten-free, chicken, beef and additive free. She will only eat one brand for a day or two so I have to keep switching them and make sure she is getting enough to eat.
She has allergies and periodic hair loss. She gets benadryl when she gets really itching. I've started supplementing her diet with half a sardine every day which has allowed her hair to grow back.
She has minor corneal scarring either from injury or dryness. I use an eye wash to rinse her eyes and am to apply a drop or two of olive oil once in awhile.
Vaccines make her very tired and lethargic for a couple days. This is completely normal. She is currently sleeping on my lap and has been way sleepy. Her temp is up a bit but that's another part of a normal vaccine response.
Bostons usually are known for barking a lot. Rosebud is atypical in that respect and rarely barks.
Watching her behave at the vets, she is a very outgoing, sociable little pup. She went greeting nose-to-nose with the big dogs without aggression or hesitation.
She has a wonderful, affectionate personality. I'm very fortunate to have her. It's wonderful to come home to her and have her in my lap. Taking her for walks gets me out of the house much more than my usual. She loves sleeping under the covers with me and readily moves and adjusts when I change position.
What a fabulous pup!!!
I've had some success at making friends periodically. Wearing a smile and engaging in small chit-chat with cashiers and clerks, sometimes brings about friendship, or at the very least, someone that smiles back when you run into them.
It must have been about 10 years ago when I realized the benefits of being kind and curteous to anyone "waiting on" me, whether it be at the gas station, grocery store or fast food place. It helps that I have a regiment, regular places that I stop and shop. My gas station sees me there every two or three days, as well as my local grocery store.
It's pretty easy to try for yourself. I never intended to make friends and meet with them outside of their workplace or become facebook friends, but it has happened more than a few times.
Maybe it helps that I'm naturally a nice and kind person and that I live in a small town and run into the same faces every week. Don't get me wrong, I have my high sensory overload/ anxiety days where I avoid, avoid, avoid but that's okay. I choose not to interact on those days.
Going to the grocstore has become easier now that I can exchange smiles and chatter with similarly nice people.
My theory is that everyone is doing the best they can. Having been a cashier and clerk myself, I really valued and looked forward to those customers that smiled back. It's not the clerks fault when the store is running shorthanded and the lines are long. I'm not in so much of a hurry these days, that I can't exchange pleasantries, however brief, to those everyday helpers.
Be nice, smile when you can...you never know, you just may make a friend.
I'm already starting to feel concerned about the upcoming, months away Autumn and Winter. I've consistently disliked winter but in the past few years it's gotten quite serious. When the leaves start falling, so does my mood. By the time winter rolls in and turns everything blank, stark and white, I'm in full blown depression.
The lack of sunlight isn't the problem. I've experimented with seasonal lighting devices but they do nothing. I'm a visual person, and the lack of any color in my external environment coupled with the cold, snow and inability to find a place which delights my visual senses, drags me into very dark...mighty darkdark places.
Last year it was a day-to-day struggle until I scheduled my Oregon trip. Then I had something to look forward to and focus on. The trip made getting through the season...almost tolerable. I shudder at the thought of yet another 6 months of severe depression. We have two seasons where I live, six months of springsummer and six months of winter, I kid you not.
The kicker is that I am already on anti-depressants. Last year, I even went to my doctor and tried an additional med with wretched side effects. I've tried melatonin which caused incredible head pain and suicidal ideation, so that's a no-no.
I can't seem to find a solution within reach. I need to be somewhere green year round or discover new tools to deal.
I've figured out that I am a very good person, honest, full of integrity, kindness, introspection and empathy. I deserve so much more than what I've been settling for. And I'm going to get it.
As an autistic planning requires about triple the amount of time versus the neuro-typical. My executive functioning skills...well, they suck, so I have to look info up, replay previous experiences and scan for previous information that I've heard or read about. I work on recalling previous pitfalls and how I dealt with them.
Luckily or unluckily, I remember events quite easily. So, I'm going through everything that I experienced over 25 years ago when I procured my first solo apartment. Lol, and the information is still there. Lots of thinking going on.
I've been going for more walks, either with puppy or alone. Being outside feels really calm not stuffy and stagnant like the inside of this house.
My ADHD is a pain in the ass. I have to continually consciously tell myself to slow down. Inside I'm speeding whilst outside just drags. Quite uncomfortable.
So, I'm working on two different avenues, places to live. It's going to boil down to which city comes through with the section 8 housing voucher first. I made a step in the right direction in one city. And I'll leave it at that.
My spirits are higher than yesterday due to this forward progress. I'm more at peace with myself and accepting of my circumstances. Writing last night really helped me get a clearer picture on what direction I want to go with my life. Writing is often insightful and therefore, healing.
I like the direction I'm going.
I'm enjoying sorting and packing. It's a relief to get rid of old, unused things that have been accumulating dust and taking up space. I'm figuring out what things I need and what isn't necessary.
In moving, I'm looking forward to gaining. Dignity, independence and self-accountability are just a few things to look forward to. I'm actually kind of excited about budgeting and being responsible for my purchases. No more buying things for the sake of buying. No more thoughtless spending. I plan on relearning all those independent skills that I have lost the past two decades.
On my budget, I'll probably ending up without a cellphone, oh darn. I'll be able to have more time for real life instead of screen time. I'll probably downsize my car to something older and with better mpg's. Previously, when I lived "Section 8" on disability alone, I always managed to have an inexpensive vehicle.
I've experienced wealth and various stages of poverty allowing me to figure out what I really want....a low-key, simple life in a small place of my own. That's it really. Keeping stress as low as possible means less things and living alone with my son and puppy. I'm searching for happiness and I know it's not to be found here, where I currently am.
Growing up, I thought money would solve all my problems and bring me contentment. I'm grateful for the experiences that have shown me that statement is completely untrue. It's more important to be emotionally and physically healthy in an environment that promotes and supports my wellbeing, I have learned. Much more important than money.
I'm finally learning about love via my son and my puppy. Seems odd to say but it's true. Animals and children are more honest than some people I know. And they give.
I'm not looking for anyone to take care of me as I don't need that. Being disable I'll always rely on some forms of government assistance and I'm okay with that. It's simply my reality. I'm more than good with accepting myself as is. I know I'm a good person. I know I'm loving, caring, honest and very kind. I know I'm doing the best I can with what I've been given. It's all good.
All relationships, associations, friendships, partnerships have a beginning and an end. The important thing is to know when to leave.
I seem to have hit a rough patch. Avoidance and agoraphobia seem to be my top two states of mind these days. I'm fine, it's just that I've added up all the days I've been feeling subpar and they easily outweigh the days I'm feeling okay. I think it's the storm before the calm. Everything, everyone seems to be stirred up and somewhat ill-tempered.
I feel like I'm walking through a constant dust storm confused and slightly disorientated. I am moving forward. That I know for sure. I'm digging through the deepest of the crazy, very old, painful, stubborn memories that seem to be at the core of my being. I'm healing but feeling worse before it gets better. Reminds me of the disorientation, frustration and chaos of when I First started therapy.
Seems like everything is a specific cycle that goes around and comes around. The end always looks like the beginning, like running one ginormous lap where I'm nearing the finish line which was also the start line.
I am doing okay. Understanding the process makes the pain tolerable. I'm aware of which way this is going and what I'm accomplishing even though it feels a little like hell, again.
My move preparations are moving forward in fits and starts. I can see progress, some days big progress. The goal hasn't changed and my inner wisdom keeps me moving as fast and efficient as possible.
Overall, I can feel positive about my goal and direction. I'm able to pause or walk through the briars along the way. There's somewhat of a hurry, a time frame but the goal feels real and attainable. I'm going to be so happy when I move. Just the thought of it is a ray of sunshine on a gloomy day. I'm respecting the needed down time, so much taking place inside. I work whenever able. I'm going to be okay. It just feels pretty crappy these days.
My 12 year old son is quite the neuro-typical, however, he displays an assortment of autistic characteristics due to having his mother and brother being on the spectrum.
Younglink is part genetic and autistic make-up. He is social, outgoing, excellent with speaking his mind, highly emotional and great with eye contact, all standard neuro-typical traits. In observing him with adults and other children, in addition to hearing about his difficulties in school, it has become clear that he has picked up the household autistic traits.
Younglink doesn't get jokes, understand pranks, comprehend sarcasm, read between the lines or take orders well. In a home where only the literal is spoken, my son isn't adept at understanding typical speech and phrases. He takes people at their word and gives them no room for error.
True, he was born on the highly emotional, sensitive side but he grew up without extended family to balance and show him what being neuro-typical is all about.
I can't apologize for what I can't change. My two kids grew up in a relative vacuum free of NT input or role models. We all march to the beat of out inner drum and autism dictates the beat.
I think Younglink's teachers will benefit by knowing that he has Environmental Autism. I know his Social Worker was quite enlightened with this revelation. EA is part of who my son is. If his teachers understand that I think they will have a better grasp on where he is coming from and why he reacts the way he does.
Knowledge is Power, my friend
I can't find a word that comes close to how I'm feeling these days...maybe anxiously lost or just in desperate need of therapy.
I know what's broken but I can't seem to fix it myself. No sooner do I figure out how to put one wheel back on the ox cart I'm dragging then the other one falls off.
Guess I'm just keeping my shit together enough to get to my next appointment.
The damn rudder has broken off the boat, Again...and no shore in sight. Looks like a storm is brewing on the rapidly moving horizon. Tightening the screws and putting on the rough weather gear.
When I allow my censors to go down and I truly write what I'm thinking, it all comes out so....Aspie. I don't know. Do other autistics think and write visually, in metaphors?
I watched the movie, "The Walk". It made me cry in that the onscreen terror mirrored what I feel inside each day.
Some people perform extraordinary feats wide open, out in public, whereas others, like myself, do marvelous feats every day that no one sees. Look at me here. How did I get through a day, a week, a month and the years of living with my parents?
There are no words to affix to such challenging, oh so not the right word, tumultuous circumstances that needed to be overcome regularly.
My feats of grandeur have never had an audience but I sure as hell feel like a victor.
To some childhood is this far off, foggy series of memories. I'm more in touch with my childhood, as it can recreate, replay bits and pieces in the blink of an eye. I don't know that I'll ever feel a degree of being removed or distant from childhood.
I watched all the meticulous planning for the "coupe", the main event and it reminded me of the forethought that goes into certain days or out of the house events. I found it exhausting to watch onscreen. No wonder I can tire easily.
I've discovered that I like being able to sleep. My new medication has given me this gift called "awakening refreshed." It is an odd feeling fer sure. I haven't quite gotten used to how it feels, as it is so foreign. The meds seem to calm my perennially agile mind. I feel more in my body at night, like I can sense where my skin touches the sheets or how my feet feel against the covers. Grounded, being grounded is way different. Kinda bizarre. I guess I didn't realize how far away, dissociative I have been.
The days seem longer, slower and have more hours to them. Time drags and I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. My son keeps asking if I'm okay. He says I'm quiet and I'm guessing I don't look happy. Things weigh heavy on my mind.
It feels like I'm between things, in no-mans land.
I've noticed, just recently, how every event seems to be a precursor to the next. Things that appear bad or unfavorable turn out to be nothing more than the natural order of things. It's like I'm progressing down a prescribed path and my awareness of this path is growing.
Events don't always make sense when they happen but if I wait a bit, I'll see the whole picture.
I'm not sure where I'm moving to. There are forms that logically I should be filling out...but something inside just knows that this or that application doesn't need attention as it is not part of the path. There's this crazy innate wisdom that has a voice, or at least a strong presence, that leads me in specific direction. Maybe it's my own inner voice of reason, higher consciousness, spirit or soul. Can't say that I know what to call it. Awareness, paying attention to this subtle inner feel seems to be the True. I'm getting better at listening to myself these days. Bout damn time.
If I allowed myself, I could easily find a reason Not to go out of the house. Each venture out brings the risk of coming in contact with stupid minds and overused, non-thinking mouths. Sorry, venting yet again another venture into the familiar woods of embarrassment and autismPTSD.
I had my yearly physical scheduled for today. Had I any insight into the fact that I would be in a highly sensory, body-memories at the surface kinda hypervigilance, I could have cancelled and rescheduled. It wasn't until I was talking with my Healthcare provider that I realized I was on high alert and riddled with anxiety.
To start things off, the medical assistant gave me a former to fill out as a screening for depression. Really? I didn't know taking a test would be involved. There were these weirdy, autistic unfriendly questions like...would you say you are unhappy with life 0, 1, 2, 3 or 4? And crazy shit like that. As If I could fucking think of my ever changing MPD states and if anyone has had a fucking positive feeling in the last six months. I never got past the first question before I gave up.
Then I forgot the undress, put on a gown instructions..go figure. So I went out and asked one of the other staff. Big mistake cause now I looked and felt like a loon, aka, crazy ass. When my provider finally arrives, it's like she wasn't this trusted person that I was familiar and friendly with...it felt like she was a stranger coming at my with...aw shit...strange, harmful, unknown tools. Okay, now I get it. This crap, this trigger directly relates to this week's therapy session and recent, very recent flashbacks. Shit, no wonder I was so fucking scared on her. She kept asking me to do strange, abnormal shit and I had to constantly protect myself and say "no" many times.
Okay, talking like that to an adult should've gotten me 10-20, or at least backhanded, smacked. Shit, it all makes sense now...
I didn't want anyone to touch me today. True, it is rather rare for me but aversion to any touch, much less someone with their hands on my throat and belly was extremely high.
Damn, how I suffer with these neuro-typical, inconsequential everyday bullshit, piddly-ass stuff. Argh! It felt like fucking torture. I'm sorry, it just did. I couldn't always see where her hands were and I really, really needed to see where they were At All Times. She was too slow or failed to walk me through what she was about to do. Double Argh! Victim mode was turned all the way up..and I couldn't tone it down. I couldn't speak up fast enough to get her to slow down and explain things to me, slloowwwllyyy. Failure, the flashing yellow light of yet another big fail in me against the world.
See, but the worst part, the degrading part had little to do with my provider. As I went to leave, at the receptionist desk, my provider asked if I wanted a hug. Like, umm, No, as I was on sensory-way-overload.
Then, the receptionist says with a snort of derision, "humf, that was rude" implying that I Was Being Rude. Are you fucking kidding me, Bitch!!! Who gave her the fucking right to speak in judgement against my right to protect myself against sensory overload, meltdown and trigger? What the fuck, you condescending low-life bitch..you don't know me...you don't know the shit I just somehow got through..you don't know how tough it is to fucking keep myself together at that moment and you sure as fuck don't know I have boundary and trust issues with my provider. Keep your damn mouth shut and your nose out off my business or I will fucking bitch slap you from now till Tuesday.
Yeah, I wish I could have given her smug ass one simple sentence to defend myself. So fucking unprofessional!!! But autism strikes me down again and I don't have the time or resources to come up with an answer, a defense or a comment that would get her slimy, vile judgement words off of me. I couldn't respond, again. In all my internal verbal prep for my appointment, I never entertained the possibility that an outsider would feel the need to weigh in on my behavior with my provider. Didn't think I'd have to prepare to defend myself whole making my next appointment. Once again, I stood there and had to take someone else's shit because I couldn't speak. Stupid fuck. She was the one out of line but I'm the one feeling angry, hurt and miffed.
If I'm lucky, I will never have another reason to go into that goddamn office.
Nothing routine about that yearly physical for this autisticMPD!!!!!!
So, when I was fishing the other day, I ended up taking home a lost, stray brown lab. She was very docile, friendly and hungry for food and affection. I thought it would be an easy project to find her family again. Boy, I was so wrong. My expectations were not at all parallel to the truth of the matter.
I've spent the last four days working on locating her owner. Today, I ended up at the city police station and asking them to help me in my search. Via microchip, phone calls and internet searching, I'd located the current owners name. He wouldn't return my or the vets calls but he did call when the police stopped by for a "wellness check."
His name is Calvin and he curtly explained that Sadie, an 8 1/2 year old chocolate lab, had "run off" about a week ago. He said he couldn't take her back because his wife was recently diagnosed with a serious illness. I readily got the gist of things. Sadie, without any collar or tages, had "run off" from a public park clear across town from where he lived. Calvin had probably dropped her at the park having cared for her for less than 2 months.
While I can see Calvin's point of view and empathize with his emotional challenges of having a seriously ill spouse, I also feel deeply saddened at his choice of letting Sadie go like that. She had been roaming the park for 4 or 5 days, alone, hungry and unwanted.
Sadie has had a tough life herself. She was at the Holland Humane Society when previous owner Nick picked her up. Nick had a newborn that had severe allergies to dogs but Nick kept her for four years. Then Sadie lived with Calvin for a few weeks before she was abandoned.
The crazy thing is that Sadie is a wonderful, sweet and obedient dog. It's quite clear that she did nothing to deserve this maltreatment. She probably had no idea that she would end up homeless, living in a public park and relying on the kindness of strangers for food and affection. She did nothing to deserve this. Just like someone else I know. She obeys commands readily, demands nothing and is highly, highly well-trained. She rarely barks, does what she's asked, doesn't get into things and yet she was discarded. Innocent Sadie. Beautiful Sadie. Left to fend for herself.
I mean, I'd understand a bit if she was mean, barky or bitey but she is none of those.
So, she is currently staying at my place for a couple days. While I'd love to keep her, Rosebud, my puppy and Cosmo Spaceman, the kitty are terrified of gentle giant Sadie. I have to keep them separated at all times due to Rosebuds jealousy and Cosmos fear. Sadie spends her indoor time with her head in my lap quietly resting. I've been giving her as much love and attention as I can...because I understand being unwanted and mistreated for no reason. I know she's done nothing wrong to warrant this. I know she wants nothing more than a safe home, something to eat and someone to love her.
Yeah, I understand her. Lesson learned.
It wouldn't be fair to keep her here. Not fair to Rosebud, Cosmo and Sadie. I'm currently looking for a permanent home for her. If I haven't found one within 2 days, I'll give her to the local humane society and hope for the best.
Sadie came into my life, briefly and for a good reason. I get it. I feel for her. I know how to make her feel content, even if it is for a short week.
