I've wanted to write about this for awhile now, trying to find self-worth when seriously disabled.
Back to the beginning, it's rather amazing that any child neglected and abused by it's own parents, finds anyway to figure out how to love and care for itself when no one else does. How does one manufacture a feeling never felt or freely given? Maybe it is imagination that comes in to play as the child can only imagine what it might feel like to be loved.
What a sad, morose topic. But surely the minority of us unwanteds deserve to be heard and acknowledged.
I think I spent a number of years creating other personas that I thought maybe the parents would love. Clearly, I had some deep, undeniable flaws that caused my parents to turn away, so I frequently made other "good" children in hope that things would turn around. I had no worth or value to anyone else. How could I give a tinker's damn about myself?
Fast forward 40 years, and I am still alone. I had two children so, automatically, I have some worth and impact on two lives. If it wasn't for them, let's just say my years would have been significantly shortened.
The rest of my family, the siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc...I'm still distant or nonexistent too, having been autistic enough to have never been able to bond with others.
I was trying to remember the last time someone, other than my children, loved me...the last time that I had a person,not a therapist, that I could be myself and tall and be heard and be accepted and loved.
Well, that must have been about 25 years ago with my dearest friend Morgan. Sure, that time together has come and gone but I do have a memory to dwell on.
I can't say I've found much reason to stay in the present. Another autistic meltdown followed by a heavy shutdown has shown me barriers I hadn't realized before.
The meltdowns have become more frequent and hit much harder and longer than before. There are many places I can't really go and visit, knowing how easily I'm getting overwhelmed these days.
Hell, yesterday was a struggle just to get food to eat as I really want able to get to the kitchen, much less pick up some sorely needed takeout.
I need to spend more time planning and being prepared for shutdowns by keeping food stocked in the house.
I need to cut back on my outings and ventures. I need to have more "off" days and days of pure rest and isolation. I need to try and find some peace and comfort. Its proving to be a formidable task.
I've been examining my goals. Yeah, I've been believing unrealisticly. My goals need to be much smaller and shorter. I need to find meaning and value into just surviving day-to-day. It's really all I can do. Being more realistic based on experience.
I used to feel worthless being unable to work. Now I'm trying not to feel worthless being able to barely care for myself.
It's a precarious bubble I live in. Only I know how far I can push my autistic self to perform the daily tasks. Only I can judge my degree of tiredness and gauge whether or not I should venture out of the house each day.
It's a paltry existence but I was never promised a rose garden. I've got it better than some, worse than others. Just what it is. Trying to live within my limits and abilities.
Back to the beginning, it's rather amazing that any child neglected and abused by it's own parents, finds anyway to figure out how to love and care for itself when no one else does. How does one manufacture a feeling never felt or freely given? Maybe it is imagination that comes in to play as the child can only imagine what it might feel like to be loved.
What a sad, morose topic. But surely the minority of us unwanteds deserve to be heard and acknowledged.
I think I spent a number of years creating other personas that I thought maybe the parents would love. Clearly, I had some deep, undeniable flaws that caused my parents to turn away, so I frequently made other "good" children in hope that things would turn around. I had no worth or value to anyone else. How could I give a tinker's damn about myself?
Fast forward 40 years, and I am still alone. I had two children so, automatically, I have some worth and impact on two lives. If it wasn't for them, let's just say my years would have been significantly shortened.
The rest of my family, the siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc...I'm still distant or nonexistent too, having been autistic enough to have never been able to bond with others.
I was trying to remember the last time someone, other than my children, loved me...the last time that I had a person,not a therapist, that I could be myself and tall and be heard and be accepted and loved.
Well, that must have been about 25 years ago with my dearest friend Morgan. Sure, that time together has come and gone but I do have a memory to dwell on.
I can't say I've found much reason to stay in the present. Another autistic meltdown followed by a heavy shutdown has shown me barriers I hadn't realized before.
The meltdowns have become more frequent and hit much harder and longer than before. There are many places I can't really go and visit, knowing how easily I'm getting overwhelmed these days.
Hell, yesterday was a struggle just to get food to eat as I really want able to get to the kitchen, much less pick up some sorely needed takeout.
I need to spend more time planning and being prepared for shutdowns by keeping food stocked in the house.
I need to cut back on my outings and ventures. I need to have more "off" days and days of pure rest and isolation. I need to try and find some peace and comfort. Its proving to be a formidable task.
I've been examining my goals. Yeah, I've been believing unrealisticly. My goals need to be much smaller and shorter. I need to find meaning and value into just surviving day-to-day. It's really all I can do. Being more realistic based on experience.
I used to feel worthless being unable to work. Now I'm trying not to feel worthless being able to barely care for myself.
It's a precarious bubble I live in. Only I know how far I can push my autistic self to perform the daily tasks. Only I can judge my degree of tiredness and gauge whether or not I should venture out of the house each day.
It's a paltry existence but I was never promised a rose garden. I've got it better than some, worse than others. Just what it is. Trying to live within my limits and abilities.
