Letting Go of the Past, Dead People in my Chest

It feels like I've been carrying dead people in my chest.

I grew up with many brothers and sisters. My older brother and I practically raised the younger ones as mom always had her hands full with a baby or two. We fed them, bathed them, babysat, took them out to play or to run errands.

I loved and cared for my siblings very deeply.

Then in my mid 20's I left them all, abandoned and without warning, in order to save myself from my incestuous father.

The hardest part, easily, was leaving my brothers and sisters. By far, the most painful part of my escape.

Approximately ten years later, I would return for brief visits, for funerals mostly, as the grandparents started dying and required ceremony.

And somewhere along the way, or maybe it's always been there, I have harbored a small flicker of flame, a hope that my constant, though submerged and hidden way in the back, love for them would be requited, returned and reunited.

It felt like I was standing in a rainstorm, atop the greatest hill, amidst a lightning storm and praying for a bolt from the blue to strike my perpetually outstretched, pleading hand. The odds of that happening dwindled with each passing year. The yearning for days of old when I loved them and they loved me were completely gone. Rainstorm after rainstorm, year after year, and decade after decade proved, I was completely alone atop the hill.

And I have been faithfully standing there, until now.

It feels like I have been ferociously clinging on to dead people that live in my chest, in the place where all that former love and current hope lived. How can I ever move on if my chest is full of the dead, the gone, the ones who have chosen to move on without me?

Thus, I have made a choice. I'm going to let the dead people, the hopes and the dreams go.

One by one, I have acknowledged the great love I have shared with each sibling. I have expressed my great gratitude for having been a part of their lives for those many years. I have forgiven them for forsaking me as I ask for their forgiveness in abandoning them. I was truly blessed to have loved and been a part of each one of their early lives. It is over now.

They have moved on. And I respect that.

I'm not going to hold onto that hope anymore. It just takes up too much space, space that can better be used for loving and being loved in the present.

I do thank them. I did love them so. I am grateful. 

This sister is moving on. No more dead people in my chest, only life and love.

Mantra Me

Don't we all need a mantra, a prayer, a chant 

Rhythmic patterns of words to calm, soothe 

And be able to always call upon

Even in the deepest of distresses?

I have the catholic prayers of my youth to comfort me, even though I am no longer of that trained faith.

Sporadically, I search for others, more rhythmic, more in line with who I am these days.

Like a lucky coin in pocket

I believe in having a prayer to always count on.

Notes to self

I keep trying the same thing and get the same result, mildly disastrous. Stop it, please.

*

When I was young, I thought the ideal job would be to be able to touch people and heal them. I did that, in a way. I trained as a certified massage therapist and was really good at it until I couldn't work anymore.

*

God loves me even if I do not do any work. I have value even without having a job, working on myself, or doing productive chores.

*

There's this thing called Unconditional Love that I seek to find. No strings.

*

I do not understand why people fly kites. Heck, I fail to understand the reason kites exist. 

*

I can't help but wonder if my dad had been better at holding a job if he still would have sold me for money to those men.

*

I am grateful for good food that tastes good. 

*

I realize the idea of having neurotypical friends is impossible and ridiculous. I have chosen to no longer pursue that option.

*

I will slightly be on the lookout for my people, fellow Aspies. I could benefit from having a nother of my kind to interact with sporadically. 

*

I had a friend once who knew a lot about Autism. The friendship didn't last but she was a raging alcoholic so I don't take all the blame. I wonder if she ever did decide to address her issues and get help. I think of her now and then and wish her well, even though I will never understand why she left.

*

The only true peace I will ever have, is through living completely alone and mostly isolated. It's not a bad thing. It's not a negative thing. It's the least painful option of existence. Kinda logical.

*

I wonder how many Autistics get Burnouts Shutdowns and just think they are being lazy or physically sick.

*

The temperature will take a sudden dramatic turn from 60's to 80's tomorrow. Dress accordingly. 

Autistic Burnout often feels...

Autistic Burnout, wait there's more!

Today's Burnout Symptoms

I can get a good indication of how heavy my daily burnout is by how my feet feel when I first wake up. I can't do a 1 to 10 scale. I can only determine firstly, if my feet hurt, yes or no.

Next question that follows is how far up my foot is the pain. Sometimes if it is only the sole, the bottom part of my foot that hurts, I can be close to huhh functioning with minor modifications. If the pain is in the ankle or above, my activities are much more limited.

This morning my legs hurt heavy clear past my knee. This is the most serious type of indicator. Not only does it hurt but it means I am mostly in bed or on the couch for the day. All activities are restricted to the most basic functional ones of eating and caring for the doggie.

I did take an ibuprofen and an acetaminophen to help combat the pain, the raging pain. Sometime late afternoon, around dinner 6 or 7 pm, I was feeling better and able to empty the dishwasher and take doggie for a very short walk. It was a relief to feel even a little, well, relief.

I had to remind myself not to do much because that part of me that likes a clean kitchen, baking biscuits and doing dishes wanted to do all those things. Had that occurred, I would have had another morning of waking up in heavy leg pain shutdown style.

I made it through the day.

I was able to paint for a total of ten or fifteen minutes. Made it to the kitchen to heat up food 3x which was great. The lessening of the pain and discomfort near evening was such a blessing. It reminds me Burnout does not last forever. It's a lifelong condition, true, but it isn't every day and I can still manage enough functionality to call my life Good.

Always hopeful that I'll wake up tomorrow and be able to go for a short walk or run an errand.

Sleep well

The Battle of the Burnout saga continues

I hate fighting battles that I cannot win, or slow down or subdue even a little. Shutdown Burnouts are like that, formidable enemies which leave me weaponless and run my life.

I hate that too, not having any control over my life and what I choose to do. Shutdown says "you are down for the count; you're only option is rest; stay in bed." And I have no say in the matter.

Part of me thinks Shutdown is like a failsafe, a kill switch, a self-preservation mechanism that forces me to retreat from external stimuli kindof like how your hand feels the heat of an open flame before actually touching it.

Shutdown is an early warning system screaming in muted colors of red and blue, stop, stop, stop, you are doing too much and have hit overload.

It bothers me that I cannot shorten it, mute it, end its mad, unforeseen end. I do not like being prisoner to it.

One difficult challenge is making peace and trying to accept this bothersome thing called Exhaustion, Burnout or Shutdown. Take your pick. They all mean the same thing. Knockout. Down for the count. Unable to physically get up and out of bed. Fatigue beyond belief. Tiredness without sane reason.

It's Autism, baby. Yeah, one of the parts, one if the main players, actually, that few people know about and fewer still understand.

Sigh.

Autistic Burnout, too tired to move

I continue imprisoned by an Autistic Burnout Shutdown, with extreme exhaustion and fatigue.

It's like, my Burnout is a 20 pound brick. If I try to remove it via acupuncture, massage, reiki, supplements, it gets heavier, more solid and stubborn and states even more firmly "I am a brick, unmoving, unyielding. You must rest."

It boggles me that a physiological condition cannot be treated or helped or speeded up or removed.

Rest is the only answer.

It isn't that I don't want to go for a nice leisurely stroll at the park, it's that I physically cannot move that much or that far.

Any physical activity increase the weight and length and breadth of the Shutdown.

The only remedy, really, is prevention, closely monitoring all physical activities. It's like I have to "check in" with my body each morning to try and determine how many steps I will be able to take that day. What's in my fuel tank? How much energy is available to me. Then I have to prioritize the chores and activities.

The biggest, easiest, well it's actually the only indicator I can read, is do my feet hurt? And how far up my lower leg does it hurt? That pain is what tells me whether I should stay in bed or go for a walk. I have no other clear physical clue.

I cannot plan outings or activities, chores or hobbies to engage in each day. I merely have a "suggestion" list prioritized with the things I would like to do. There is no given, no surety.

I live each day on a whim, wondering how far my body can take me. I cannot make set plans. I do the best I can with what I've got.

I'm not lazy, depressed, physically ill or unmotivated.

I am Autistic.

Sometimes my body gets overwhelmed and shuts down.

Right now, I'm a 150 lb brick.