04/30/13

MindRetrofit Celebrates: 1000 Ausome Things #AutismPositivity2013

Woot! It’s here! 1000 Ausome Things #AutismPositivity2013! A great day of celebration and basking in the awesomeness of Autism.

Last year I contributed to the flash blog To “I Wish I Didn’t Have Asperger’s” #AutismPositivity2012 Flash Blog.

I remember feeling struck with heartbreak when I discovered that someone had put those words into a search engine. In my post, I shared some of the awesome things about Autism. I was excited to see what would happen this year’s flash blog. I was delighted to see that this year we were focusing on “1000 Ausome Things!” (Yes, I am using too many exclamation marks in this post because I am over-the-top excited, especially after reading so many of the positives that are rushing the internet.

However, my mind is in a spin and I am having a difficult time trying to articulate what I want to.

Because I enjoy words so much and one of my gifts is using them on multiple levels I am going to take the “Ausome” word for a moment and share with you what I am in “Awe” of in regards to Autism. I use the word in the terms “of an overwhelming feeling of reverence, admiration.” The first part that I share is about my son who is Autistic. There have been so many moments that Daniel has made me awestruck. He filled my mind with wonderment and excitement by his actions and/or questions. The way that his heart feels and how he sees joy in the most simple of things, such as a screwdriver. Who knew that a screwdriver could be such an entertaining toy! It does everything, from spinning to opening up clock radios. It can be used to write words in putty and for some great magnet experiments.

Daniel asks questions that stump me and I love that.

Only yesterday, without any indication that he has been thinking of this he looked at me and asked, “How can God hear us and we hear him if he is not here?” Good question. I did not want to get into a theological discussion with my eight year-old because he can dismantle my logic in seconds. However, I had to try. I could tell that he really needed some sort of resolution to the question. In my feeble attempt, I told him that God is like a spirit that lives within our hearts and that many times God does not speak to us directly, but through people, situations, or actions. He sat there staring, processing for several minutes. Then asked, “How can God fit into our hearts?”

Good point.

I tried my best to explain that he does not live in our heart like a little person, but that he is like air, in nature, in every part of being. That led to him asking, “Do we breathe God?” I had no good words other than, “I guess that would be a way to think of it.” I was in no mind frame to have the discussion. However, it made me think of all the times that Daniel has asked such questions. How do things work? Why do they work like that? Can we take it apart? Can we look at it on the internet? He wants to know every single detail and looks at the small things to connect the big things. His thoughts intrigue and amaze me. His kind spirit and deep emotions move me.

His laughter fills me with joy to the point that even now I have a little bit of tears filling my eyes.

He sees the world in music; he lives in this world in constant curiosity. (Much like his mother.) He stims in drumbeats and claps. He hums any tune he hears in an instant. He delights and squeals when he gets his favorite food. His enthusiasm is contagious on some days. Yes, those are some grand marvelous (Awe) “Ausome” things that I get to enjoy. I am ever challenged, but the type of parent that I am I think that is Ausome! Those are a few great things about my little boy. This second half, I am not really sure where I am going.

Let us see …

The first thing that comes to mind is that October 2012 I was “officially” diagnosed as an Aspergers adult. I had a lot to process – I still do. I found that finally having answers and a community that I could actually relate to made my soul feel a little more whole. What I have I found is many people who are caring, kind, open, honest, and understanding. These are many of my Autistic peers. They are some of the most talented and articulate people I have encountered. They share their lives openly (as much as you can on the web. ) I cherish all that they give and the many ways that they have helped me to understand my mom (an Aspergers adult), my son, and myself.

I have found parents who are just as compassionate and caring as well.

They work hard at being advocates and I am amazed at all their efforts. They shine of positivity. There are some days when I feel a bit down and unsure about many things, but I have been able to bounce back much sooner because of all the “Ausome” words that our community pours into the internet waves. I have a better self-image because of all the positives that my peers and our advocates share. Being able to find answers, relate to other’s stories, and share my own stories knowing that others will understand has boosted my self-esteem. I am able to see positives about myself that I could not see before. The voices that are out there sharing and focusing on the good have helped spring board me in many ways to much soul searching and healing.

To me that is HUGE “Autism Ausomeness!”

I believe that the foundation is being laid for my son. (And for my other two children.) My kids will see their “quirks and oddities” their “stims and unique ways of thinking and processing” as Ausome! They will see a mom who (finally) sees and accepts her own talents and gifts. As well as someone who does not think of being Autistic as a negative, but who embraces it and seeks to help others to see the positives too. I admit it can be a challenge, but that is why we need more people to build us up and focus on our positives. We thrive when people acknowledge, accept, and point out the good things about us.

Ending with a short list.

We see the world in unique and interesting ways.
We have great abilities to seek out and dissect details.
We are artists in whatever talents we have whether through poetry, painting, creating images, or in how we can write and share our ideas about math, science, animals or computers. (Obviously, a very limited list I shared here.)
We can keep our childlikeness that can be a very good for stressful situations.
We have some pretty entertaining (ingenious) thoughts and perspectives.
We can be some of the most loyal and best friends you could ever ask for.

I will stop at six, it is a good number. (And some of us may see numbers dance and leap about in wonderful colors!)

Oh, and words here are some of my dancing colorful words leaping about through poetry! Happy Ausome Day!

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04/29/13

1000 Ausome Things #AutismPositivity2013 Flashblog Announcement (Reblog)

1000 Ausome Things #AutismPositivity2013 Flashblog Announcement

We know you have been waiting… and we have been working and organizing behind the scenes. Now we are ready and we are excited to announce the theme for the second annual Autism Positivity Flashblog Postivity Flashblog Event on April 30th, 2013: “1000 Ausome Things #AutismPositivity2013″

AutismPositivity2013button

Last year hundreds of bloggers came together in a show of support and solidarity in response to an anonymous person’s Google search “I wish I didn’t have Aspergers”. The posts that came flooding in from all over the world were a beautiful example of the power of strength in numbers. With so much negativity still surrounding Autism and the misinformation and misconceptions that continue to abound, we invite each of you to share one, or two, or more “Ausome” things!

We invite all of you, anyone who is Autistic, anyone who has an Autistic person in their life and all who blog about autism to share a message of support, wisdom, hope, and pride to this year’s flashblog by posting tohttps://docs.google.com/spreadsheet/viewform?formkey=dDdPQjAxV244VjdCcXdYX0pPQ0RBblE6MQ

Please join with us on the last day of Autism Acceptance Month – April 30th, 2013 – in a Flash Blog of Autism Positivity.

To participate:

1. Publish your post on April 30th in the following title format: “ [Your Blog] celebrates 1000 Ausome Things #AutismPositivity2013″

2. Share your post on Twitter, Facebook, and any other social media site using that hashtag (#AutismPositivity2013)

3. Add your link to the Autism Positivity website (submit here or above) and grab the badge from the page tab above.

4. Share/reblog this message to your blog, page, etc.

Thank you,

The Autism Positivity Project Flashblog Team, 2013

If you have any questions, please contact us at autismpositivity@gmail.com

We can also be found on

Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/ThinkingAboutPerspectivesAutismPositivity

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/positivityautie/autism-positivity-2012/

Tumblr: http://autismpositivity.tumblr.com/

Twitter: @PositivityAutie

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04/28/13

High School Trauma: Road to Recovery II

I did not recognize it until the next day, but I went into PTSD (C-PTSD) symptoms. Anxiety filled me, as well as irritability, I was shaking/shivering, cold, nauseous and I started to fixate on facebook. I made myself get off, I had tears, all the sudden I felt ugly, worthless, depressed, panicked at noise, everything became loud and buzzing. I could not eat and I could not sleep. I felt alone and scared. It was not until the next morning that it all made sense when I was still having those symptoms. They were intensified because I had not slept in a couple of days and because of my confusing interaction with Joshua’s teacher, but at least I was able to understand what was happening.

My high school days were some of the most painful and confusing times.

I was in an abusive relationship for three years of my stint in that school. However, I was unaware that I was being abused. I knew that my unnameable fears and anxieties were at high levels during that time. I was stalked; my personal space and time were continually violated. Other girls who called me things like “slut” and “whore” bullied me. There were rumors spread about me that were vile, I found out later that my boyfriend said many of them at the time, or my so called friends. While I sat at home babysitting my sisters taking care of the household because my mom worked 50-60 hours a week, and my step dad at the time was a drug using, drug selling, womanizing lazy jerk, there were claims that I was out partying and hooking up with numerous guys. Nice.

Many other things happened too.

I felt like I had to continually watch my back. Several girls hated me and I did not know why. Many guys confused me. My teachers did not change their attitude toward me either. I had two teachers who ever said anything positive to me. My U.S. History teacher, who said that he knew that I was much smarter than I let on and my literature teacher who said she wanted to see me in advanced literature. She was impressed with my writing skills and with my major assignment that I did on “Death.” My economics teacher did compliment me because of my hard work on a stock exchange project we did. I did get an award for that – I just remembered that.

It is hard to remember any good memories because there were so many traumatic ones.

In my home life, my social life, and at school. I had no safe place anywhere. I was in the vice-principles office often. Either for skipping class or smoking. I was in the nurses office a lot too because I always felt sick. They never asked me why, they always assumed I just did not want to go to class because I was a delinquent. I could not tell them that a math teacher made fun of me all the time in front of the class. He was the football coach and found it amusing to mock me when I asked questions. I could not tell them that the P.E. teacher found it amusing to measure my BMI and then proceed to call me obese. (He said that he was joking.) When I was maybe 120 pounds. That was a great thing to say to a teenage girl who had a boyfriend who was already calling her fat.

I dropped down to 100 pound by the next years.

I could not tell them that I skipped and hid in the bathroom because I found a huge bag of marijuana in my step dad’s coat pocket one day and I just needed to be alone to try and process what to do. Or that my boyfriend accused me of cheating on him. Or that my mom woke me up at three in the morning demanding that I do the dishes even though we had no dish soap so I was forced to use powdered laundry detergent. I could not tell them that the boys made derogatory comments to me that half the time I did not understand so I did not want to be in class. I could not tell them that several girls in another class that I was in threatened me.

No one listened and I did not know how to be heard.

When I tried to tell my story, they did not believe me or thought that I was being unruly because I could not get my words out. This caused me to have meltdowns, one major one with screaming, hitting, and raging in the office. IN ADDITION, when that happened I recall at least once being asked if I was having my period. That is not even the half of my life that happened while in that school. I understood how important it was for me to go and turn my thoughts into positives. I really wanted to see my niece perform. I wanted to be there for my sister, and I wanted to see my dad and step mom. I decided this time around I was not going to internalize my fears. I shared a little on facebook to get it out. It gave me the strength to text my dad and tell him that I was having problems because of all the negatives I had associated with that place.

Thankfully, he was supportive along with my sister and step mom.

They did not make a big deal out of it, but I could tell they were trying to “be there” for me. My dad met us in the parking lot. The school looked so tiny and not scary at all. It felt very different walking in there with my kids. It had only a momentary affect on me. When I looked down the hallways, my lung filled with heavy air. It smelled the same; I saw my locker when I was a senior. I saw the hallway where my other locker was when I was a freshman. The foreboding left as quickly as it came when I walked into the auditorium. It was where I had been in a beauty pageant. I discovered that pageants were not my type of thing, but I had positive memories of that day. I had memories flood of when I was in choir and my performances.

Eww, and that horrible electric blue dress we all had to wear that one year!

It made me laugh. We sat into the front row and all three kids did great. They sat the entire time and relaxed in the semi-dark to some tunes. Daniel asked a bunch of questions, but he did an amazing job at sitting there and trying to be quiet. He enjoyed himself. During the performance, I noticed that the woman I had talked to about music therapy was there. She recognized me and came up to me afterwards. She said that they have been working on a project to start “Sensory Friendly” concerts. She said, after watching Daniel she knew that it would be a great project to start. We talked for a little bit longer about the summer schedule for music therapy and went on our way.

It was a positive social interaction for me (with a woman) in my old school.

The whole thing was positive. When we were leaving, my dad decided that he wanted a picture of my locker on the way out. Another guy, went by the lockers with his wife and he had the locker next to me. I did not remember him at all so I think he was a couple of years before me, but I am not sure. I am not sure I would remember many faces from my school days. I took a picture of the kids in the hallway to help melt away the past memories of those hallways being filled with negatives.

Their smiling faces consumed them.

I walked out feeling a little more whole than I had before. It felt good. I could finally, look at the building and feel peace. I feel a little teary eyed right now in a strange sort of way. It feels as though I have lost a large chunk of my identity, but that I have gained a large part at the same time. I think I am going to be able to pull out some positive memories from school soon, after all of these negatives ones settle their voices. I knew coming back home was going to be challenging and liberating – I am glad that I am here.

A few resources.

Psychological and Behavioral Impact of Trauma: HIGH SCHOOL STUDENTS

Signs of Trauma in Children

Types of Traumatic Stress

Happy pictures!

[Show as slideshow]

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04/28/13

High School Trauma: Road to Recovery I

I had not realized how much school associated trauma affected my emotions and anxieties while dealing with the kids teachers this year. I will get to my high school situation in a moment; however, my reaction about my high school was enhanced due to an interaction with Joshua’s teacher so I need to process it. I experienced bullying from grade school onto my high school in various forms. Many times, my naivety caused my downfall. I would not understand jokes, innuendos, behaviors etc… at the bus stop, on the bus, in the classroom, or out on recess, and that led to being made fun of constantly.

I was made fun of for the “odd” things I said and did.

I was made fun of for my birthmark and my looks in general. The kids made fun of my clothes, my mom, and my home. Others things as well like, how I could not stay quiet or still in class. Similar types of mockery went on through middle school and high school. I did some stupid things because of my naivety. I was clueless at the time, but I wanted to be liked and I wanted to have friends. If people dared me to do something, I would think that would make them like me. It only got me into trouble, made me more of a mockery, confused me, and caused feelings of isolation and depression.

The only group that accepted me was the “rough” crowd for the most part.

[There is just too much to write about.] They made fun of me too, but it was for my innocence and they found it amusing to have a girl in the group who had never kissed, done other “naughty” things, who did not smoke, or drink. Some of those things changed quickly enough. I was still a prude in many ways and it was funny to make fun of me for being that way. In grade school, though I noticed how my teachers did not see me in that light. They treated me as though I was the “bad” kid. I was ignored or I was being disciplined for my disruptive behaviors. I had problems sitting still.

In conduct, I regularly received a U for unsatisfactory.

I could not stop talking. I had problems writing. Art class was torture for me because of all the cutting, drawing, painting, multiple sensory and fine motors issues, and at that time, dealing with abstract art for me was very difficult. (Now I love it.) I was placed in intermediate reading even though at home I was reading encyclopedias, Grimm’s’ Fairy Tales, Aesop’s Fables, and various types of poetry and literature for fun by nine years-old. Though I loved numbers and understood them in a unique way I could not grasp the way they taught it in school and I was placed in basic math. I fell through the cracks.

I was invisible unless I was acting out.

I was sent to the hall many times. I was forced to beat chalkboard erasers to clean them as punishment, which was so painful to me that I would be sick for a couple of days afterwards. The dust made my stomach hurt, it made my nostrils raw, and I coughed for days because the dust seemed to be stuck in my lungs. It dried out my eyes and made them burn. The worst part was that I could not get the residue off my fingers and hands. Even after I would wash them, I could fill the dryness caked to my skin. It was awful!

I have all of that infused to my brain when it comes to teachers.

I especially have the anxiety and fear of not being heard by them. I would get in trouble for acting out and the majority of the time I was acting out because another child was messing with me, or I felt trapped in a desk forced to sit and listen to something that we had already gone over 50 million times! When I would try to explain myself to teachers, they only saw me as being disrespectful, unruly, and obstinate. I had no voice and I finally took on the perception of myself being nothing more than a nuisance. I felt that way at home and at school.

At the beginning of the school year for my kids this year, I had to work through those feelings.

I did not realize it at the time. I assumed it was all my social anxiety, it was a big change, and it was new. I did not know what to expect so I was anxious. I felt much better after talking to Daniel and Ariel’s teacher. I felt all right after speaking to Joshua’s teacher. However, by my next interaction with her I was thrown. I will not go into great detail, but she and I just do not click. I have not been able to find any sort of understanding of her way of communication and it has caused me to spiral into some severe anxiety attacks throughout the school year. Joshua had made several comments in the beginning of the year about her that I assumed were probably his own anxieties.

After a while, though I listened to him.

I think we just do not know how to communicate. Some people you cannot find a way to reach equal communication. I have found it difficult because I get on well with all of Daniel’s teachers and therapists. I have explained to Joshua’s teacher my concerns about his reading issues, yet his academics are excellent. He barely needs me at all for math or science expects to read or write out some words for him. He does great in language arts as well, except he has problems reading the computer screen. He takes a little longer to process his words when reading in general. I am concerned about him having dyslexia and I have sent an email to Daniel’s special ed teacher about getting Joshua evaluated through the school.

It was prompted after my interaction with Joshua’s teacher Friday morning.

I will keep this part short, and in fairness, she has been gone on maternity leave for several weeks. It was her first week back. In a way I am happy that all of it transpired because I also asked about getting Joshua evaluated for Aspergers or ADHD through the school. I am waiting on my psychologist to get him scheduled for an evaluation, but it looks as though it will be the middle of the summer. Daniel’s special ed teacher will be working with Joshua and me for his IEP if he is diagnosed so it does not hurt to ask her questions.

I know I give so many details!

I am trying to stay focused. Because of all that had happened on Friday morning, I was struck with anxiety and fear. I became fearful because I had emailed several questions about Joshua and about Daniel in regards to adding more accommodations to his IEP. I started to become overwhelmed with fears that they all think that I am a bad mother and that I do not do enough for my kids. Then, the thoughts that they feel that I am a helicopter mom and want ALL of these accommodations to make it easy for my kids and myself. I started to panic that Joshua’s teacher would want to retain him despite his high scores and massive improvements that he has made.

The final anxiety blow was about Daniel.

They decided to move him forward to third grade because of how much he has progressed and improved. I started to fear about that, but I had no definitive fear, just a foreboding fear. Those thoughts were consuming my brain and then, the plans for Saturday started meshing in there too. My plans for Saturday started to mix and mingle with my other lingering anxieties. I take the kids to the YMCA so Ariel and Joshua can do gymnastics. I had originally, planned to take Daniel swimming during that time, but now they have scheduled swim lessons. That means we have to wait until Ariel and Joshua are finished then go swimming. I am at the Y for almost three hours. :-/ My dad texted me earlier in the week and said that they were coming for the weekend and wanted to know if they could see us.

Our schedules were not working out.

I found out my niece was going to perform in her choral on Saturday and I thought that would be a great thing to go to, something new for the kids. I was waiting on my sister to tell me the when and where it would be. Ok, so I had all of that anxiety from earlier with the teacher, my general anxiety about family coming and being at the Y for almost three hours, (trying to keep Daniel entertained for an hour) then, my sister texted me the time and that it was going to be at my old high school. My body sunk for a moment. I had a strange response that I cannot articulate. I thought, “Well that sucks.” and moved on.

However, my subconscious self did not move on.

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04/26/13

“I Was Not Raised To Say Good Morning!”

I did say something like that – it is true. It is kind of a funny story, the reason why those words came out of my mouth. It was when David and I had moved across country. We had to live with his mom and stepfather for several months. They were challenging months. One indecent that still sticks out is the day David and I were requested to have a meeting with his stepfather and mom. It was something that I will never forget because it confused me tremendously. Many social situations happened while living there and in that town that awakened me to such utter confusion that I was in a constant state of anxiety.

I had never been around such social dynamics and I was traumatized.

On a daily basis, I was confused, hurt, angry, sick, and my head was reeling nonstop trying to make sense of my surroundings. I had no family or friends and only David to rely upon. At least, I understood somewhat the traumas that I felt with my family. They were familiar and I had learned how to protect myself, maybe not in the healthiest of ways, but I could protect myself nonetheless. However, when this situation took place we had only been there a few weeks so I had not spiraled into fear, confusion, and severe anxiety yet.

Back to the story, I will try to stay focused.

There had been several days of tension in the air. I was clueless as to what was going on, but I felt it. It was causing my head to feel dizzy. I did notice that tones, body language, and words seemed different, but I had no idea why. I asked David about it and he did not pay that much attention to it. His stepfather had been in his life for around 23 years. This man violated David and his brother’s space, time, and anything else in their lives that he could. So David was in his own protection mode and knew how to ignore the man, or finds ways to make himself feel better.

The minute I met the man I did not feel comfortable around him.

The only way I could describe at the time was he seemed very negative and grumpy. When he walked into the room, it seemed to zap out all the life in each person. Nothing made him happy, but me being the hopeful naive person I am, I thought we just needed to try harder. I thought maybe David was too negative and possibly God was trying to show us how to be more compassionate. Well, there are times when I just lose all compassion toward a person, especially when I have tried very hard and they accuse me of being disrespectful.

OR rude!

Keep in mind that David and I were in our early thirties when this took place. We were finally able to set a time to meet. It was in the evening, we sat in the living room. I did not know what to expect. I felt like a teenager who was about to be grounded or something, but I had no idea what I had done wrong. I had gone over everything in my head trying to figure out what this was all about. Then conversation started with the stepfather voicing his frustrations at us and feeling as though we were disrespecting him.

I was confused.

Now they told us that we were welcome into their home to stay as long as we needed. As far as I knew, it was rent-free until we were able to get our own place. David and I were still unable to find work, we had only been there a few weeks, and in the midst of that, we had gotten married.

I did not understand what this man was talking about.

Much of it is a blur to me now because I became so angry and confused that the words were jumbled. It came down to this, the stepfather said; he was upset because we did not say, “Good morning” to him every morning. WHAT??? I sat there staring at him in disbelief. He proceeded to share every bit of grievance he had about us not acknowledging him if he came into the room, and being disrespectful by coming and going when we pleased.

David was angry.

I was stumped. He continued with his banter about not saying good morning and I told him, “I was not raised that way.” He shook his head at me and said, “I do not believe you Angel, I saw you with your family when they were here.”These words shot out of my mouth, “That was my dad and step mom! I did not grow up with them. Besides it has taken years for me to even be like that with them.”

I went into HOW I was raised.

I grew up with my mom and in that house you did (do) not talk until after she has her morning tea. There was never a good morning. I was not allowed to say that or ask questions, or request breakfast until my mom had her first cup of tea and cigarette. (I was making my own breakfast by around age 6 or 7, probably earlier but I cannot remember clearly.) What he saw with my dad was years of weekend visits. In my home, you were lucky to get a grunt if you walked into the room. I was constantly told to be quiet, settle down, and stop asking questions. I was told things such as, “I don’t know, I am tired, stop asking me questions, leave mommy alone.” I was not allowed to speak to my mom when she came home from work. I had to give her at least 10 minutes before I bothered her with anything.

My mom was not trying to be mean; she needed that time to process.

She requires uninterrupted time alone to wake up in the morning to adjust to her day. If her routine is interrupted, her entire day is ruined. When she gets home from anywhere, she needs time to adjust. She has to change her clothes; many times, she needs some food, and then, her tea. After that, she is able to function socially. Also in my house, “please and thank you” were not that big of a deal. Other things took precedence.

It wasn’t that I was raised to be rude, but we did not spend our time saying such things.

It was that those words had real meaning to them; they were earned so to speak. My mom did not force me to say them. We said them to each other when we meant them or thought of it. I do think that both of us would have benefited if we had said those types of things to each other more often. We had too many other things on our mind than to think about things like that. It is a little difficult for me to explain.

That is how I was raised.

Not to mention by the time the “stepfather” incident happened, I had been living on my own since I was 18 years-old for the most part. (I had to move back home a few times, but about 6 months was the longest stretch.) I had my own routines. I had lived alone for most of that time, but when I met David, I had been alone for something like a year and half I believe. I could not believe the behavior of a grown man getting upset at such foolishness. However, when I thought about this situation I recalled how many other people have gotten offended at me for not saying good morning.

They have gotten offended at me not addressing their presence.

If I am busily working, I may look up at you, but it is as my mouth is sealed shut. I have no words. My mind is too busy processing other things. If it is first thing in the morning, it is raging with all sorts of thoughts from trying to discern the dream I had to wondering if I can recall some famous event that happened on that day years ago. It could be anything. I could be wondering if squirrels are fidgety or just anxious. I could try to figure out a more efficient way to clean the litter box.

Anything and multiple things are soaring through my brain.

AND let us go ahead and add how I could be freaking out on the inside because I smell someone’s cologne or food on the other side of the room! I could be so focused on not yelling, “What is that god awful smell?” that I just cannot stop all that I am doing and say something to you first. I can usually say it back if someone says it first, I most likely will not say good morning though.

I WILL NOT say that if it is not a “good” morning.

I will say, hi, morning, or give a head nod. I do not get offended if someone does not say it to me. At some point, in the day they will speak to me I am fine with that. Of course, my way of thinking does not work for passive-aggressive types. Their tactics of silent treatment do not work on me. I only assume that they do not feel like talking because when I do not feel like talking I do not talk.

I am not giving the silent treatment.

The point of my story is that I was perceived as rude and disrespectful and I had no idea that the person felt that way. The way that I was raised, it was rude and disrespectful if I did talk before someone else spoke to me. I could not understand his anger or hurt by the situation. All though, the man had other serious issues. He even went after David after he had excused me because of my up-bringing.

He told him, “You know better.”

As if, David was supposed to have made me aware, or something. Um, we were in our thirties! David had been in graduate school for seven years prior, I had been in the workforce since I was 16 years-old, both of us had been married and divorced, AND we lived on our own for years. None of that mattered because he could only see from his perspective, which was distorted by offense. Truth be told, I was offend too because of his offense. People seem to forget about where others are coming from when they are clouded by offense, myself included. I was not raised that way, I was deeply offended at what I felt was childish and ridiculous, but I also tried my best to do small things to help this man feel respected.

He did let us stay in his home, even if David’s mom may have been the driving force behind that.

I still felt that he should be respected and that I would try. I do not think it much mattered though, he is just one of those people that no matter how much you try it is never enough. I will say, it was awkward and a challenge for me to remember to say “good morning.” It still is, it is a challenge for me to remember to say say thank you or other ”polite” things. Not because I do not feel them, quite honestly, the words seem to have lost their weight to me. Any person can say words flippantly and without true purpose – I like to show my appreciation through actions.

It feels more comfortable to me to do something in return for someone than, to only say words. (AND I will not say them unless I mean them.)

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04/23/13

Are You Calling Me & Other Autistics Sociopaths? (Think About It)

I am going there. I want people to think about what they are saying when they say that Autistics “lack empathy.” I have been over this on my blog, and I have shared a several posts revealing how my son Daniel, who is Autistic, shows and expresses empathy along with myself. Autism and Empathy: Dispelling Myths and Breaking Stereotypes , which Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg Editor and Publisher created, is an entire website featuring many posts and articles sharing truths about Autism and empathy. If you are still under the premise that we as Autistics “lack empathy”, I would suggest going to her website to get a more accurate view.

I want to make a strong impression here because I believe we have enough information now to change the perspective.

However, many still believe that we are unable to feel or express empathy. I blame this on the plethora of literature and media that continue to speak about us, without us. In my opinion, I also feel that society tries to blanket emotions as a whole and generalize them into easy compartments that are only defined by what the “group” is thinking for the moment. Interestingly, some people fail to consider how complex emotions are to each individual. Speaking for myself, I find my emotions too difficult to articulate many times because of the complexity that I feel. I work through them in my creative writings because I am unable to discern immediately what emotions belong to me, and what emotions belong to others.

I can pick up the emotions of others without realizing what I am doing.

It has been confusing for the majority of my life. I become greatly affected by events in people’s life or in media. Much of what Eileen Parker wrote in her post Autism, Empathy and Boston is how I felt. I have managed to express my emotions in the most simplistic of terms much of the time. Happy or sad are pretty much my staple expressions of emotions. Last night my friend Lori shared a wonderful post that helped me understand myself in this area a great deal. Go have a read Accepting Emotional Regulation. I have read a few things now that say in order to have empathy for others it is dependent upon understanding your own feelings.

I understand my feelings very much, it is when others get in the mix that I can become confused.

Here is where I am confused now, how can people not understand the negative associations and misinterpretations about Autistics when they claim these things? When will these negative terms start to dismantle and be edited into better terms and understanding in the books and society? Based upon the history of human existence I feel that it will be longer than, we hope.

However, I DO have hope.

I am relying on the numerous Autistic voices stepping up and sharing how they really think, along with our advocates sharing their perspectives. Still, we have a lot of work to do. Today I am sharing what I feel. I want to express clearly, what it means to me when I hear or read about Autistics lacking empathy. It has been burning in my brain for years. For a while, I believed it. I was so terrified that I was a narcissist that I researched what narcissism was just to be clear.

I did a three part series on the difference between narcissists and Aspergers.

Aspergers – Narcissism: NOT The Same I

Aspergers – Narcissism: NOT The Same II

Aspergers – Narcissism: NOT The Same III

The more I researched the more I believed that Autistics do not fall under the criteria of lacking empathy.

Something that rang through my brain was how everyday people, who are supposed to have the ability to empathize, are the same people who bully. Bullying is a Group Phenomenon − What Does It Mean And Why Does It Matter? The thoughts flooded my brain about instances when I witnessed someone being bullied and I stepped in to stop it while others stood and watched. I felt what that person was feeling and I could not sit back and let it happen. I have done this in school, at church, and at the workplace. Yes, adults bully and they do it at work.

Is this different from empathy in some way?

I think the definition of empathy is loose and left up to each individual. However, when a person with a degree or medical background claims that they have dibs and somehow work it into our societal jargon we are left with their interpretation. It offends me. It hurts me. It annoys me. Mostly, it has been detrimental to my self-esteem. Even if one says, that they did not mean to imply that Autistics are narcissistic or sociopaths the fact of the matter is that being defined as lacking empathy falls under the criteria of narcissism, antisocial personality disorder, as well as psychopaths. These are associated with symptoms of lacking empathy, Autism has been lumped into to that on several resources that I read. They are claiming that we lack the ability to feel another person’s emotions or understand from their perspective, or care?

This has been based upon how we react in situations or what we say?

For instance, instead of emotionally responding instantaneously we start to ask questions that seem inappropriate or we shutdown completely, this is considered showing lack of empathy. For me I may ask questions in order to understand the situation better because in my mind I automatically want to understand and create long lasting helps. I do not do quick fixes. If you are hurt, I want to know the what’s and the why’s to first insure that I was not the cause. If you are excited, I want to know all the details and I mean every detail. Many people just expect you to respond toward them in the way that they would respond.

I do this too.

I still struggle with thinking that people would or should react with empathy toward me the way I expect. That is why I have continued to be baffled at people in general. They will claim that we lack empathy, but they do not try to empathize with our emotions or situations. We are required to be bombarded in sensory assaulting environments and then, if we have a meltdown, shutdown, are cranky, lose our words, or stare blankly we are ruining the fun? If our favorite object breaks or our schedule is suddenly changed, we are supposed to be able to “get a new one” or “get over it” because “it is not that big of a deal.”

Well, those things are a big deal to me and to my son.

To be quite blunt about it by definition, I feel that those who continue to claim that we lack empathy are operating in the very thing I am being accused of.

Let us take a look here.

“Empathy is the capacity to recognize emotions that are being experienced by another sentient or fictional being. One may need to have a certain amount of empathy before being able to experience accurate sympathy or compassion.” ~ Wiki

Simple enough, huh?

I would like people not to be offended at my words, but once again, to be quite blunt, we Autistics are still being labeled and falsely perceived as lacking empathy. My purpose here is to ask you to stop and think just for a moment. Do you truly understand the meaning of empathy? It is a broad definition based upon your perceptions and wants. How you want to be understood is how you expect others to show you empathy. We all need to take a step back and reconsider our expectations. The generalized conceptions about empathy limits us and does not allow room for growth, self or in our society.

Currently, the generalized attitude seems to be that anyone who lacks empathy lacks emotion, feeling, or the ability to care for others.

That attitude would assume that I am a narcissistic, unfeeling, uncaring droid if I were to tell anyone that I am an Aspergers adult. These words shine such a negative light that it puts me on the defense at times. Why? Because it hurts, makes me anxious and fearful. It makes me feel as though I need to defend the way I think and how I process. It makes me feel isolated and misunderstood. It makes me question my actions and constantly try to evaluate what and how I perceive my world. It makes me worry about how people will respond to my son. I have had a lifetime of being told how wrong I am and people telling me how my actions and words are wrong. I have had to filter through all of that and learn to accept myself.

I have had to wade through all the negative associations toward Autism for my son and myself.

What I do not understand is why people are so quick to assume the negatives about autism. Why are so many people unwilling to use positive lingo instead of painting all of us as dismal way of being. I do not run from the fact that there are great challenges. I live them daily with my son and myself. Some days it is extremely difficult, but I ask how can it get any better when we have to face a world that looks at us with negative eyes. Does the world truly think that we are sociopaths? Do people really believe that we are like robots without emotions? Are we such difficult creatures that we have to be explained in terms as being broken? Is the way we process our world so incredibly awful that all energies must be projected into finding ways to make us more like the general public?

News flash, the general public is hurting.

There are people suffering from all sorts of physical, mental, and emotional issues. Many have no one to empathize with them about their disability, their depression, their anxiety, their fears, their “disorders,” or hurts. There is no one stepping up and saying, “I feel you, let me help.” Many of them are like me, reaching out through the internet because no-one-else in their life understands. These souls reaching out to find others who know what the hell they are feeling and talking about.

Think about it.

If you are reading this, have you stepped into my shoes for a moment? We are being told repeatedly that we need to understand how your world works. It is being demanded that we learn your system that is foreign and difficult for us to understand. We are being requested to change the way we think, respond, and express. BUT people fail to see how hard we have been trying to do just that. We have tried to fit in, belong, understand, be accepted, study and figure out this system of humanity that makes us feel like aliens on our own planet.

There are many reasons why an Autistic person reacts in the way that they do.

Maybe the next time you feel as though the Autistic person is showing a lack of empathy, how about you step back for a moment and ask them directly and clearly, what they are doing. Do not ask broad generalized questions, or tell them that they do not understand. Ask them point-blank “What are you thinking in this moment?” However, if you do be prepared for the possibilities of the most foreign thought you could think of, but know that whatever they are thinking could be a great riddle to solve. It could lead to a grand answer of them expressing such empathy that you would never have imagined. It could happen. You could be hammered with a bunch of questions that could lead to surprising helps that you never would have considered.

You could end up with silence and them walking away.

And the next day their favorite stuffed animal or pair of headphones on your desk. You just never know what exciting empathetic gifts could be given to you. I will share several links to my posts in regards to how Daniel has expressed empathy. I will also, share one trying to express how I do by asking questions. I am going to share several other posts from others as well. I hope that I make sense in this post. It is coming from a slight offense, even though I tried not to be negative. I still, do have my opinion and feelings about this. I respect everyone’s journey and their times that they need to vent. I do not judge condemn, or speak ill of them. I work through my own emotional response and trust in the process of everyone’s journey.

However, I think people need to start critically thinking about what they are saying to an entire population that has been ignored far too long.

Positives About My Autistic Son

“I Do Not Understand”

Come On! Enough With The “Lacking Empathy”

“What Is The Cat Feeling?”

My Autistic Son Comforted Me Today

Daniel, Me & Empathy

Things that I read.

How I Experience Empathy

Autism, empathy, and violence: One of these things doesn’t belong here

Empathy, Mindblindness, and Theory of Mind (Sharing this one again!)

A Radical New Autism Theory (Radical??)

How to Test Your Empathy

It’s Hard to Live with Someone Who Lacks Empathy

Empathy

10 things not to say to someone with Asperger’s

How to Relate to Someone who Has Asperger’s Syndrome

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04/21/13

I’m Too Tired… Product Of Overload

I was going to attempt to finish the post I was working on, but my brain is just too exhausted. I am fighting with an array of emotions for many different things. This week was a rough one for Daniel. He refused my help on several days, and I was not able to bring any peace. This can make me fall into sadness and negative thoughts. The reason is that I get overwhelmed with thoughts like, “I am the only one who knows how to help him and if I can’t then what?”

I have fears run through my head about never finding a positive solution to help him.

I know that this is not true. However, when I do not get sleep, breaks, and the school schedule is overwhelming for the week, I get tired. As I write this I seem to have an apologetic tone. In a way, I do feel like I should apologize. I have this feeling that I should be sorry for not having all that it takes to be a parent that is fully capable of handling every situation that arises. That sounds ludicrous writing it out, but I am sure I am not the only mother who has or has had those thoughts.

I have given my energy to helping all three of my children and doing my daily tasks.

I should not feel as though I am less for not being “spot on” with everything this week. Sometimes I have no idea what Daniel needs, MOST of the time I do. However, those times when I think of everything possible, I do everything I can think of, and then, go in search of answers and still find none, those days seem to wipe out all the other days that I do have the answers and can help him. He is much better today and this week looks promising. I am drained and quite honestly ready for school to be over.

I need a boost to get me motivated for the last couple of weeks of school.

It is not helping that I am extremely frustrated with standardized testing. I have read entirely too much about it the last three days and it is getting to me. I think if I take the rest of the day off from thinking about school stuff tomorrow and reading that information I will do much better. I hope. I need a break from negative language starting from how people talk about themselves or our world, to how people talk negatively about autism. I thought about what could have happened to Daniel this week if he was in a school setting.

I thought about how he could have been treated.

I thought about how people would have perceived him had they witnessed what he was going through. I knew that most likely they would not have considered all that he had done in the two weeks prior. Not because they are inconsiderate, but because the way we process and are affected by change, environments, sensory stimulation, and social dynamics are so foreign to them that those things would not be in the forefront of their minds. They would not have considered all of the social activities he had done. They would not have considered everything that he was still processing from all those situations. They would not have thought about all of the sensory input and social settings that his brain was still pondering.

Without clear context for some because many of them were new for him.

They would not have considered the weather changes, pollen floating around, or how the pressure changes affect him. They may have thought that he was being unruly and obstinate by refusing to take his tests or work on his research paper. Tests that are about 50 questions with reading comprehension and math problems that he has not done before. A research paper that I have had to convince him repeatedly to work on over the course of several months that is due soon. He still sees no purpose in it and this coming week I have to find a way to convince him to try to write a few paragraphs of it.

Sigh… that makes my heart hurt just thinking about it.

He is feeling better, to force him to do so much handwriting, well that could be too much. Granted he has had several months to work on this, but it is a challenge to convince him to do assignments unless he finds a good reason for it. I tried many different ideas and repeated some. The one that worked this time was reminding him how much he loves sea turtles. I hope it lasts through the writing part. I could be wrong about how he may have been treated. We could find a great school staffed with grand teachers who are able to devote such time and energy on thinking about my son’s needs and how his brain processes.

It is not out of the question.

The reality is even the best teachers are not always equipped with the time or resources for that. These thoughts do ring through my head because when I cannot help him, I begin to question whether homeschooling is the best for him. When I thought about all of that, the one thing that did help him when nothing else could was reminding him that it was ok. When he said things like, “Why do I do this?” I explained to him how he is affected by all of those I mentioned earlier. It helped to understand that nothing was wrong with him, we just needed to find better ways to help him decompress. Some of his behaviors were not ok and the positive is that he knew that.

He tried very hard not to fall into them.

When he did, he apologized or said that he did not know what else to do. Now that is HUGE progress. I can understand not knowing what else to do. I can understand much of what he was feeling; I only wish I had the answers to help this week so that both of us could have had a better week. The most important things that happened this week was that Daniel knew that he was accepted no matter what and that he was understood. The week is over, we are moving on, I had to process, (I have my own overloadeness that needs to be processed as well.) and now I am letting it go. All is good despite the freaky weather! (Ariel and Joshua did just fine, they each got extra alone time with me or David. I have found that helps a lot when we are having a rough week.)

Picture time.

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04/19/13

I Forgot!

I completely forgot to share my latest poetry book on this blog. It is the final in the Into Infinity series. (I am moving on to other poetry ventures and focusing on my fiction novel.) It is titled Unrequited, you can click on the image to go to amazon.

I shared this on my poetry blog today – I suppose I will here too. Why not?

Rhetoric (Into Infinity)

This weekend I am offering my book Rhetoric free!

Rhetoric (Into Infinity)

“Second in the ongoing Into Infinity series, the poems within manifest the power of words, the stubbornness of grammar, and intriguing inspirations of music.

Words are incredibly powerful – they can infuse life or death into a soul. The manipulation of grammar in poetry causes punctuation to enjoy being contorted, unveiling their hidden unruly nature.” ~ A.D. Stone

I decided that in honor of National Poetry Month I would offer another one of my poetry books for free.

If you missed Rhetoric, here is your chance to download it! Rhetoric, flows with my love of word play and dismantling grammar. I like to break grammar rules in poetry because I can get so caught up into them if I do not! I love words, and I do think they may be fond of me. hee hee I hope you take advantage of my offer and enjoy some playful musings! Don’t have a Kindle? No problem, check out the free app on Amazon HERE.

Happy Friday!

A little riddle, can anyone guess how the cover image is connected to the title, Rhetoric? Go! :-)

My other two can be located in links on my Books page.

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04/18/13

Some Videos

I thought I would share a couple videos that I am watching and processing.

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04/18/13

Family (Dys)Functions

A couple of weeks ago, some of my family threw me a birthday party. Many things went well and I did have a great time. There are certain things that my family thinks is funny to do. One is doing things like getting me a princess crown for my birthday and making me wear it. They know how much I do not like crowns or girly type of things like, PINK anything! Lol!

Or lots of hugging!

I do admit, that I have felt more comfortable hugging them in the last month due to changes in them and me. In the past, I was unsure if they were being mean, joking, or just plain insensitive. I now understand that many things that are done are simply because it has always been done. My dad’s side of the family grew up picking on each other and tormenting each other. They bullied each other. (There is a LONG history that goes into the why’s.)

They played tricks and spoke things that apparently some siblings do.

My mom grew up being picked on and tormented by her father’s family. My grandfather was sometimes the cruelest man I ever laid eyes on then, in the next moment he could be sweet as honey. I was confused by the mocking and picking on from both sides my entire life. It makes me sick to witness such things; it was detrimental to my mental state when I was the focus of mockery. I soaked in every word believing them to be true. My confusion would heighten when I would address it, and ask why they would say or do such mean things.

I was told it was “a joke.”

Why wouldn’t I think it was funny if a family member made fun of the way I ate, or laughed? Why didn’t I find it amusing if they made fun of the clothes I wore, what color my hair was, if I did not understand a joke and asked what they meant? Why wouldn’t I laugh it off if they called me a “spaz” or “dingy.” Why would I get my feelings hurt and feel horrible about myself when I was around them? I understood recently, that these things were not about me. I also, took note that on both sides of my family they did not do it to me as much as they did it to one another. I noticed that they made fun of all of their own quirks, sensory issues, obsessions, etc… as well.

The difference that I understood about myself was that I did not do that.

Throughout my life, I did not mock my oddities or myself until someone else started mocking me, or mocked their own that were similar to mine. I believe I have shared some this before. I did not tear apart my appearance until someone else started doing it to theirs, or nit-picked at my appearance. I did not feel badly about myself until someone made me feel as though I should. I did not see myself as being “wrong” or “flawed” until others implied it through their jokes and mockery, of either themselves or me. Once the self-deprecation and negative self-talk would start out of others mouths, I began to mirror. My mom did this constantly, she has gotten much better at stopping, but I grew up with it. After years of this, from my mom onto virtually every family member, I took on the script of self-deprecation.

I already had this realization a while ago.

However, what I am writing about now is how this no longer affects me in the way that it used. I understand that I mirrored that behavior in order to protect myself. I did it with my classmates, friends, significant others, co-workers, and family. I did it first so that they could not do it to me. This was learned. I watched my family become hurt or upset at the words or actions that other family members inflicted. I also, observed that their defense was to counter attack with another “joke” or “put down in a loving way” (sometimes not so loving) toward the person who started it. There were many innuendos and slides that I did not understand.

I did not catch many that were directed toward me.

I was either oblivious (still am) or it confused me so much that I would shutdown. None of this would catch up with me until hours sometimes days later. I understand that this family dynamic is most likely never going to change. The digs and jokes are their way of showing affection as well as indirectly speaking unpleasantries to each other. I have learned that many people communicate like that – I still do not get it. My mom and sisters do this with each other too. I find it all odd because it hurts me when these things are said or done. As I was thinking about this more, I realized that lately my family has been doing this even lesser than before.

I am grateful.

I think that the reason is that I have been so vocal about my confusion with these things and that I shared with them how I no longer had any idea if any of them loved me. That was the truth. I felt so unlovable and so broken that the thought of anyone loving me seemed impossible. I was also, so confused by the social dynamics in my family that I could not filter through their words or actions properly. They have stepped up and have tried to keep reminding me that I am loved and that I matter.

I hate the fact that I need this validation because it makes me feel weak.

That is a whole other issue, about me wanting to be independent and never needing or wanting anyone. I have observed in my family that only the weakest links share their emotions or express their need for validation. It is indirect and eluded to, but it is there. Several things have helped me to let some of that fear go. The changes that my family has made has helped, my uncle sharing with me on a facebook comment that he was diagnosed with depression and got help, and me remembering that I do not think that my quirks, oddities, or the way that I think is wrong.

I do not feel wrong.

I cannot change a person’s perspective about how I respond to things. I cannot change how people think about me as a person. I cannot change how people perceive my “Autismness.” What I can do is be honest and share what hurts me. I can tell people that I am not broken, I am considered disabled, and I do have many challenges, but I also have many strengths. This TED video Aimee Mullins: The opportunity of adversity, I have watched several times now to help me process the word “disabled” and society’s perceptions.

I find myself in a limbo type state of understanding my own disabilities, but not feeling disabled. (That I am still pondering.)

I have had to go through a process of self-acceptance, especially with discovering that I am Autistic. I am still unable to share with many family members because I do not feel that they will be able to accept it. It is not because they do not love me, but because it is a hard to grasp. It is difficult to process that the person you have perceived one way your entire life is not that way at all.

They are not thinking like you in the slightest.

The way they interpret the world is so vastly different that you are unable to comprehend it in the least bit. There are also the revelations of all the times you have hurt them or damaged their psyche without even knowing it. I would think that those who care for you would be heartbroken if they discovered that their actions and words contributed to PTSD. I have gone through my revelations of how my actions and words have been misinterpreted causing pain to my family.

Granted all I can do is move forward and little by little explain how I think and why I do the things, I do.

That opportunity would never have opened up had I not shared the severe pain and isolation I was feeling. I took a chance because I had reached the point of despair. I no longer had anything to lose. I knew that I had to reach out and if I was rejected then, I knew! It was a choice of moving on without them or moving forward with them. I am thankful that my family is trying and they are accepting me where I am, but I am in control of what and when I share. I am determining what is healthy to share for me not because of them. (I hope that makes sense.)

I may be able to share that I am Autistic one day with them.

However, I realize that my attitude before was too abrasive and demanding. I expected them to change immediately with my sudden changes. I went through many stages of feeling hurt and rejected by the ways they have responded toward Daniel. When I finally, accepted and understood I expected them to do the same. People do not work like that. They do not accept differences and changes instantaneously. They do not change their wording from “wrong” to “right” in a day. They will not see “disabilities” in a positive way the second someone says, “Society needs to change.”

Changing minds and perspectives is a gradual movement.

It happens little by little, those who change their mind rapidly normally have not built a strong foundation for their own thoughts. They usually sway with whatever the new perspective is in the moment. Whatever facebook or Twitter is telling them today is what they believe and fight for. In the last month, what I have noticed in the home front is my family being more open to listen about Daniel. They have been more accepting of his behaviors and interacting with him more comfortably. They have not been looking at him in the distance, but they have not been pressuring him to interact either.

All of this has made me feel more comfortable and not on the defense.

I have dropped my expectations of wanting my family to accept that I am Autistic. I feel as though since, my defenses have gone down they have become more accepting of him. Is it my perceptions changing or theirs? I think it is a little of both. My thoughts about all of this has given me even more reason to believe that the way we can change the perceptions of Autism is to find the bridges to communicate.

It requires breaking down defenses and being open-minded.

It is hard to find that balance. It is hard for me not to get offended when I hear negative words used to describe Autism. It is hard for me to try to be compassionate toward people who speak about Autistics as though we are broken, wrong, and/or disabled. It is hard to keep a positive image of myself when these things are said about me and generalized over Autistics. It is reality, people still feel that way because we live in a word that needs labels, distinctions, “us vs. them,” normal and not normal even though neither can be accurately defined.

I still see a world that requires a wrong or right.

Until we can all accept the gray areas, it will always be here. All we can do is impact as much as we can in our space on earth allotted to us and be satisfied that we have done our part. I am slowly changing the dysfunctions that were ingrained into me growing up. I am picking them out piece-by-piece and making dramatic changes in myself.

I no longer fear going to family events.

I no longer feel the need to push understanding on them. I no longer feel afraid that I will fall into mirroring self-destructive behaviors when being around them. I no longer fear that they will hurt me. I see with clarity that all of my fears and defenses caused me more harm than, they did.

I know who I am in this moment. (I will reach some other level of me later, I presume. )

I am accepting myself more each day. Their support and validation has helped a great deal, but I could not have gotten to this place without doing the work in myself first. Families all have their dysfunctions, but they do not have to control or define who we are. Something that I have learned in a new light is that I CAN create my own healing even in the midst of dysfunction. I did not think that was possible before, I thought I needed to escape or isolate, but I do not.

I have the strength to change even when others around me may not be.

It is not always easy; there are some people who have to be distanced or even cut out of your life. That decision has to be based on how toxic they are to you and your mental state. There is nothing wrong with getting away from toxic relationships. However, if their most damning of torture is to make you wear a princess crown on your birthday, I think they can stick around.

Some pictures of the event.

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