05/19/13

Four-Year Blogoversary!

I am reposting my very first blog post along with some additional thoughts in celebration of my four-year blogoversary. Originally, posted May 13, 2009.

I remember when Daniel was born he was first; he paved the way for his twin sister and made the whole experience very quick and easy. He turned head down at about six months and stayed that way until the end. He was so far down I thought he was just going to come out at any time. When I saw him I only had a moment because the doctor asked if I wanted to rest and then said if I did my little girl may go breech. So I didn’t take a break I said, “Let’s go I can’t have that.” Seven minutes later there she was my precious Ariel.

My twins were finally here!

I held Daniel right away, but it was very short. I had to wait until we got to the room to finally enjoy him. They were so beautiful. It was such an awesome experience and I was filled with joy. I remember thinking I didn’t know if I could love them. I was sort of afraid that I wouldn’t be able to love them the way they needed to be loved. They were so precious and such amazing gifts. I thought everything would be great. Just like the pregnancy and birth. It was all so good and went so well.

I thought now we will just be like everyone else with kids.

I had the image in my mind that we would all be happy and “normal.” At least my kids, I didn’t think they could possibly suffer from any of the things I suffered from. I came from teenage parents who got a divorce when I was around three. My single mom worked her butt off, but we were still in the lower income class up into my teenage years, living in a trailer. My mom being divorced and my dad remarried to my step mom with their own family – that was my life.

Later my mom being remarried having their own children, everyone belonged except for me.

(Several years later divorced again, now a single mom with three girls.) The torture of being bullied and made fun of all through school, suffering from anxiety and depression from as far back as I can remember – abusive relationships and my turmoil with wanting friends/relationships, never “fitting in,” but desperately wanting to still longing for solitude all at the same time.

No way would our children ever have the same fears and issues as me!

I thought that David and I could be stable; we could work hard at keeping peace and balance in our household. Surely, our kids would be able to enjoy life and not have any problems. Right?

I am adding to this post now. (May 19, 2013)

A lot has happened since this first post. I have learned much and I have changed a great deal. My expectations of “normal” are diminished and I no longer carry the burden of society’s delusional view of normalcy. I have spent the last four years educating myself on many neurological issues. Before I had only focused on certain aspects of Autism, aspects that were skewed by other people’s lack of understanding and my own misunderstandings. When I started this blog, I was still heavily reliant upon others to help guide my way through this world.

I had lost my voice completely and became a shell of me.

I knew something was wrong, but I had no idea what it was – I was too busy trying to find answers and help Daniel. I became dependent upon David to tell me whom to trust and about the world. I had become isolated, depressed, and anxiety ridden. The day I wrote and published this it was the day that my subconscious had had enough and took over to try to pull me out of the pit I had buried myself in. There is so much more that I could write, but at this moment, I feel that I am done.

My writings from May 2009 are only shadows of person that I am having a hard time relating to.

She was make-believe, hidden under the voices of everyone else. The only thing that is still the same is my love and utter devotion to my children. Sure there are traces of the real me throughout all of my writings. It is rather hard for me to articulate my true meaning. However, it has only been the past year that I uncovered layers of myself that I was unaware existed. A lifetime of my “self” being smashed down for the sake of trying to survive this world had blinded me to many things.

I am proud of all that I uncovered about myself.

By gaining the knowledge that I am Autistic, I have been able to accept and understand myself much more. My official diagnosis helped me a great deal, some do not need that, but I needed it for my self-acceptance and healing process. My self-esteem has boosted a bit, and even on days when I feel inadequate I know that it is only a fleeting emotion based upon other’s perceptions or inability to accept me. I have accomplished a lot in these four years. I feel that I am a better person – I am a real person. I have always been honest; I shared what I believed in that moment of time to be true.

However, we are all in a constant state of change.

Our views change, our interests may change, our understanding about our world changes, if we allow ourselves to be continual learners we are open to a lifetime of change. I think one of the things that I noticed looking back through my older posts, is that though my perspectives and views may have changed, my character and values have remained. I care deeply for people, I am willing to be vulnerable and open for the sake of healing and helping others, and my children are everything to me.

Those are just a few I can think of off the top of my head.

This poem was originally on the first post. I did not edit it. It was a moment of my heart and I still feel this way.

My Kids

Bright and smiling they lead me to join
into the trumpet of laughter and song.

The questions they had for me today,
gave me hope in a new way.

Dancing and leaping just because,
what fun it is to live life as bright as the sun.

We have such peace, wonder, and love.
Countless moments and many to come.

They make me better they make me right.
They cause me not to be so uptight.

They fill me with awe and surprise.
Wonderful gifts that no money could buy.

Unique and different in every way,
I can’t say no when I hear “Mom, let’s play”!

They are perfect in every way,
being themselves as they play.

All frustrations wash away,
when I see their smiles throughout the day.

My prayer for them is that they will be
truly who they were created to be and live their life completely free.

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05/17/13

“Angel Is A Centerfold” (Um, No!)

When I was a young girl, around eightish the song “Centerfold” by the J. Geils Band was blaring all over the radio. My aunts who were four and five years older than me, played the “Freeze Frame” album all the time. My step mom’s sister, as well as my dad’s sisters were frequently over on the weekends when I went to visit. I normally, spent much of my time with them because dad was busy doing things… I loved the song “Freeze Frame.” My aunts made up dances and I learned them! They included me into the dances despite being too young for such teenage hipsters.

These are some of my favorite memories.

We watched scary movies, listened to great music, they let me dance all wild and do my gymnastics all over the yard, just being my silly self, (I have not changed much.) and they did what “naughty” teenagers do. Hee hee My dad and step mom had parties a lot. My dad had his band over for practice A LOT also. That reminds me I have another post floating in my head about Freddie Mercury. My dad would take on the persona of any musician – he did a rock awesome Freddie. It helped that he had many similar features as him as well.

Tonight on my way home from the store “Centerfold” came on.

I turned it up and as I was singing thinking my happy thoughts, I was consumed with emotion. First, it was dread, but I did not know why. Then, confusion it ended in laughter. I will explain in a moment. This week has been great with my mom. It has been taxing, draining, exhausting, but it was a great visit. However, I was overcome with many emotions. I became bombarded with her negative emotions that she has connected to this town. She tried very hard to be positive, but I felt her energy. I knew what she was thinking and feeling even if I could not articulate the exact emotion – I knew.

I had my emotions about her being here.

On Wednesday, she shared a whole bunch of old photos that stirred up a mess of emotions that I am still trying to process and find words for, I am working on a post for that because it requires an entire post itself. My body, spirit, and mind absorbed my children’s emotions too. Those are a not as complicated, but mixed with everyone else and my own it’s a bit much to process. I am feeling good about tonight’s emotional surprise though. I have made some huge progress in identifying quickly my emotions, knowing what triggered them, and articulating them. Not always, but yesterday I was able to and now this evening.

I was able to see them as emotions without judgment.

I allowed myself to feel them with the knowledge that they would be fleeting. When I heard the song, dread poured into my soul because kids at school made fun of me about the song. They would point and sing, “Angel Is A Centerfold” and I would sing back laughing and dancing. I had no idea what a centerfold was, all I knew was that I thought it was super cool whenever I heard a song with my name in it. I thought the kids thought it was cool too. It was not until several years later possibly as an early teen, I cannot exactly recall, that I discovered what a centerfold was. Even when I watched the video, I did not understand it.

I do remember that one of the boys started laughing at me on the bus about it.

A group of boys who bullied me at the bus stop started singing it on the bus ride home. I laughed and sang along and he stopped saying something like, “What is wrong with you? Are you stupid or something?” I did not understand why he said that asked what he meant. He said, “Angel is a centerfold. You’re naked! Ha ha ha” I was so confused; I remember looking at myself thinking, what is he talking about? I have all my clothes on. It gave the boys more ammunition to call me a “ding bat” “spacey” and “stupid.”

All of that filled my innards when the song first came on.

It caused dread and confusion. After I processed that, I began to laugh. I felt incredibly thankful to be me. I thought how wonderful it was to stay so innocent of such things despite the abuse that had happened to me when I was even younger than that. I thought about all of the things that I had been exposed to that at the time I had no clue was VERY much too adult for my age. I still have memories of things that I do not realize were inappropriate for me until it is something to that my kids may be exposed to. There have been times when David asked me why I left something on the TV when the kids were in the room. I was clueless that it would be inappropriate.

I did not understand what was happening on the show.

I found it confusing, which is why the TV stays off. I am not SO naive that I would let them watch anything really bad, but I do have my moments when I just-do-not-get-it. I am SUPER sensitive at times too. My good memories of the song, dancing with my aunts took over and washed away the dread and confusion. I wanted to be sure and document this because I have had an intense week, but I have also made some great progress with my emotions and some of my trauma. Now, there is another post on the way that I am unsure as to how I feel about it. I will say I find it interesting how an object can trigger all sorts of negative associations. Especially, when it is something as innocent as a child’s toy phone.

I will tackle those emotions later for now I am dancing to this! (Yes, we did the dance in the video.)

I just had a thought, I realized how ironic it was that as a child my mom could not keep clothes on me. I was a child who took her clothes off at any chance I could get. It was such a frustration and challenge for my mom. I am glad I finally found clothes I could wear! I would never be able to be a centerfold girl though, nope, just could not do it.

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05/15/13

Day At The Zoo! (An Anxiety Reducer?)

This week we have been VERY busy. I have been pushing the boundaries with the kids to get school complete by the 21st. I have worked with Daniel, stretching him beyond anything I have done throughout the year. It is no wonder the poor guy is having a difficult time, BUT he is doing amazing and it is showing him just how much he can accomplish. Unfortunately, this week is packed with social extravaganza because my mom is in town.

It is good and unfortunate.

She originally, had planned on coming at the end of June, but she was able to get plane tickets $200 cheaper if she came this week. She just got them without talking to me. She had no idea that this would be “crunch time” for the end of school. However, the good thing is that my mom understands and she is staying with my grandma. Those two go on adventures of their own in the morning and then, we see them after school is finished for the day. I wish we were able to see more of her, but the truth is we ALL get socially exhausted. My mom can only spend a certain amount of time socializing before she starts to get cranky and lose her filters. (She is not the only one!)

Once again, I say it is good and unfortunate.

It is unfortunate that we cannot do as others do and squeeze every last bit of socializing out to try to make it last for another year, but we are not made that way. It’s ok! The good is that we ALL understand and it does not hurt anyone’s feelings. Yesterday, we went to the zoo. It was a perfect day. The weather was warm (finally) and there was a nice breeze. I noticed that on the website that they offer a discount if you are a resident, but I had no way to prove my residency because I still have not gotten my driver’s license and nothing is in my name. I was a little bummed because I like to take advantage of discounts as much as possible!

When we got to the window, I realized that I knew the girl.

I was so excited. I then, blurted out, “Oh! You know I live here right?” She said, “Yes” with a chuckle. I did not think anything of it until later. I knew her from my spin class. My aunt is also her personal trainer. Interestingly, she had not been to spin class for over a month, but the night before she had come back. She had an injury so she had to take time off. Monday night was the first night I actually had a conversation with her. It was not until we got home that mom started cracking jokes about me saying, “Oh! You know I live here right?” I looked at her confused and asked, “What? Did I say something wrong?”

She reassured me that I had done nothing wrong.

However, from another person’s perspective it could have seemed very odd. Apparently, I was very loud, excited, and went into detail of how I did not have a proof of residency. I did all of that and then, be-bopped away as if nothing had happened. So my grandma and mom had no idea how I knew this person and they found it amusing that I was so insistent on getting that discount. Later, my mom realized that I was starting to loop about my “odd” behavior and what I had said because they were making jokes about it. She told me, “Stop! We were just teasing you. You did nothing wrong. Do not loop!”

After she said that I said, “Well I am glad I did it with that girl because she is used to my aunt!”

My whole family does awkward social things. It has helped in social settings when meeting new people who also know my family members. We are all a bit unique (odd) in our own ways and when we tell people that we are related they seem to get an “understanding” type of look on their face. Whatever that means.

Back to the zoo.

We received a map for the zoo and I was taken aback at Daniel’s response. He was filled with excitement. Once he discovered the map was for whole zoo he requested to hold it. He watched for animal markers so he could know where we were at every moment. At first, he asked me why the animals did not move. I had to explain to him that the map was not interactive. He found great flaw in that and could not understand why the zoo would not make an interactive map. Lol!

It was the first time that I noticed Daniel truly able to enjoy himself.

There were moments when he was extremely anxious if Ariel and Joshua got too far away for him, or if mom and grandma lagged behind too far. He was afraid that we would lose them. I had to reassure him that we would not lose them and that I could see them with no problem. He ended up enjoying the map much more than the animals, except for the turtles because turtles are his “favorite ever!” He was calm and able to focus because he could gauge the distance between each place we were going. He knew what to look for and he knew the markers that showed us it was the end.

It did not occur to me that for him to have a map would help his anxieties.

I cannot believe I have not thought of it before! When we got home, he asked me all about the map and said that he wished that he had a map of our house. I told him that I could print off maps from the internet if he wanted me to and I asked him if that would help if I did every time, we were going somewhere. He squealed with excitement and said, “You can do that?” He asked me to print off a map for him that is from our house to the YMCA.

He has been carrying his maps with him around the house, studying them.

Earlier today, he asked me if he could do the iPad while he was on a break from school. I let him choose whatever he wants since it is his free time. Lately, it has been MAPS! Hello, me! He has been meandering on Google maps and Quake Viz. You can watch a demo here QuakeViz App Demo. I did not connect the dots until yesterday at the zoo that maps would make Daniel a very happy boy. I had not considered how it would greatly reduce his anxieties about where we are going and how long it will take. Google maps gives all the information that could help ease him. I do this for myself ALL the time, why had not I thought of it for him?

I am kind of kicking myself for not thinking of it before. (That is a funny literal image.)

Somehow, I just never did… well, now I know AND it can change our world. Today he requested that I print out a map to grandma’s house before we left. He was all giggles and ready to get into the car. Even though he has been to grandma’s on many occasions, he still has felt a bit anxious before going. He did not today; he looked for things that were on his map. He told me how long it would take to get there. He said, “We have made it to B on the map.” when we got to her house. He said, “We are back to A, which is our house.” when we arrived home.

I am SO excited about this; I think it is going to be a great thing.

He has liked maps for a long time, but he never made the connection that they actually show us where we are at he just enjoyed looking at them. The moment he saw our house on Google Earth it was something that stunned his mind. He sat there quietly at first then; he looked around with a great big smile while squealing with joy he said, “Oh my, goodness that is our house! It really is our house!” I am going to take advantage of his interest this summer and teach him how to make maps.

I will print them out for every place we go.

I will create a binder of maps with all of the places we go to and let him keep them for future use and for his studying fun. I have a feeling this is going to help him a great deal. He is going to be a happy fella with his clock that he keeps with him constantly that tells him the time, date, along with an alarm that we use as a timer and his maps. I think I may start doing it for me too! Kidding, well I do print out maps a lot. :-/ At the zoo, I learned so much and we all had a grand fabulous day.

Now for some pictures and some smiles for new adventures to come.

[Show as slideshow]

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05/10/13

Ha ha ha, Wait…

I am coming out of my overwhelmed state and feeling much more positive. I forget what stress does to me and when I cannot see any end or solutions, my mind starts to spiral. Thankfully, my exercise loop is back because it helps me a great deal emotionally, mentally, and physically. Exercise is a lifelong special interest of mine, but if I become bombarded with daily life, I can lose my drive to keep on doing it. I also, know that I can become obsessive about it so I have to keep a steady balance.

BUT it makes me feel so good!

I have started to work out on a daily basis, even if I can only fit in 20 minutes of cardio, but throughout the day, I am doing push-ups, scissors, jumping jacks, crab crawls, whatever it takes to give me that boost to push through the muddledness that tries to take over. This has proven to help me – sometimes for only a short period, but it is enough to get things done. I had not thought about any physical goals with starting my workouts back up, until I started to feel my body get stronger. It has taken several weeks, but I am feeling the difference in my workout.

I am able to do 10 real push-ups!

That is huge for me because my upper body strength has always been a challenge. This past Monday I was able to do things in my spin (cycle) class that I have not been able to before. My body has not felt this strong in years. My new strength strangely makes me feel more confident and self-assured too. Self-assured for me means that I do not think about my “oddness, possible inappropriateness, and/or quirks.” That is until it is brought to my attention. I had not initially meant to talk about my workout stuff.

My original thoughts had to do with last night at my Piloxing class.

The other night I did not get any alone time, last night I needed to work out even though I did not feel like it at all. (Ariel came with me so technically I still have not had any alone time, I am taking some time today and doing whatever I want!) I did not mention this in my last post, but Daniel will not go to bed without me again. He is refusing to leave me and for the past couple weeks Ariel is waking up in the middle of the night and coming to bed with me too.

I have not slept very well being sandwiched between Daniel and Ariel. :-/

I digress. I arrived a little early to class, the instructor and several other women were sitting outside waiting for the other class to finish so we could go in. The instructor is a lovely woman; I really like her bubbly and happy attitude. She is not fake about it and she is not over the top, she feels very genuine. However, last night I was not in the mood. Everyone was quiet except for her and another woman. The instructor realized that their conversation was rather exclusive so she tried to spark up conversations with the rest of us. She asked, “So how is everyone’s week going?” All the women said things like, “Good, fine, everything is going good.”

I could not do it.

I was not smiling, I looked at her trying to get something positive to come out of my mouth, but I could not. Right before I left the house, I was trying to comfort Daniel because of something that triggered him. It does not bode well for me to go into a social setting right after Daniel has had a difficult time. I was in recovery myself. She could tell that I was not too zealous about the week and she asked, “Is your son still having a difficult time?” This sank in my gut triggering the week prior when my aunt had walked by and asked in front of all the women, “How is Daniel? Is he still melting down?’ I knew that she was concerned and was trying to be supportive so I was not offended or upset, but I had panic run through my body and mind because she said it in front of all the women. (If she said it to only me I would not have thought about it at all, that is how we talk to each other.)

All of the women looked at me oddly and I said something like, “Yes, he is still having a rough time.”

They looked at me as if waiting for more details, but I would (could) not say anything else. I found myself holding back the words “He is Autistic.” There were (are) several reasons, 1) I do not want “meltdowns” associated with my son because he is such a sweetheart. He is gentle, kind, and caring much of the time. 2) I normally know the triggers of the how’s and why’s of his meltdowns.

I would end up going to great lengths explaining why he is having these difficulties and people really do not want to hear it.

3) Media has tainted Autism in such negative ways that I never know how people will respond when they hear that my son is Autistic. 4) I sure as heck do not want to encounter someone telling me that it is vaccines, my bad parenting, demons, and/or he can be cured in an instant with coconut oil. Yes, people have said these things to me in real life so I am a bit apprehensive in sharing about my son. (I am not even at a place to consider sharing that I am Autistic.)

It has nothing to do with shame; frankly, I do not have the energy to take on those types of things right now.

5) I want a safe place! I want to go to a place where I can let go of all of the stuff going on in my life and enjoy myself. I have fun working out. The harder it is the better I feel. I start laughing when it gets really tough. It releases some sort of “happy juice” in me when I feel as though my body cannot go any farther. Then, I feel this intense “RAWR!” inside my head and I push forward breaking my own boundaries. I compete with myself and try to push myself harder and harder each time. 6) I do not want people’s sympathies. Those who understand the challenges my son and I go through is enough for me.

When I read from another parent who is or has gone through some of these experiences it gives me hope.

It reminds me that I am not alone. It reminds me that others are struggling too and they got through it. It reminds me that I have gone through it before or it paves the way of understanding when/if it happens in my life. Those who have not been through it cannot comfort me. It does not help me to hear a parent of “normal” children try to find comparisons to make me feel better. They are not the same. I do appreciate their efforts in trying to relate and be sympathetic, but it only enhances my feelings of isolation.

Those are a few reasons why I do not want to share with people.

Back to the story… She felt uncomfortable with my respond and moved on. She then, said, “Be sure to invite your friends here because we need to have eight people each week to keep the class going.”

Everyone was silent and looking down.

She said it another two times and then, looked at me. Without a thought the words blurted out, “I do not have any friends. If I did I would invite them because I love this class.” She looked at me and laughed saying, “Oh come on.” I looked at her matter-of-factly, “I really do not have any friends.” Realizing that my words were causing EVERYONE to feel uncomfortable, but not really understanding why, I said, “I just moved here and have not had opportunities to meet people.”

At this point, my aunt was walking by and I felt that I had to say something.

I blurted out, “She is my friend, but she teaches on Thursdays so she cannot come.” My aunt stopped and said, “What?” I told her what I had said, and she immediately took over. I knew that I had said something that seemed wrong, but I was not sure why it was wrong. I reached out to my aunt because I knew that she could help fix whatever “social faux pas” I had done. I knew that I needed a good reason for not having any friends because of experiences, being in very similar situations. My aunt did take over and gave more clarity about my move and not having time until recently, and that I have not had time to make connections. That is partially true.

I could feel the air in the hallway a little bit heavier, but still not sure why.

The conversation dwindled, I felt awkward and sad, but could not think of what was making me feel that way. I later understood that what I was feeling was the emotions from the other women. They felt sad for me not having any friends. However, it took all night to process that for me to understand that sadness and that it was not my sadness. Then, it was time to start class. There is one woman who has been friendly toward me, I finally realized that I had briefly talked to her the night I went into Zumba instead of spin class. (No bikes were available.)

She has sparked up “Hello’s, how are you doing? and you should try such and such class.” several times.

I did not understand why she acted as if she knew me, but I realized that she was being nice and seems to be similar to the instructor with wanting to talk and be nice. I like her too. I have tried to talk to her more, working on my social anxieties. Last week she suggested that I try the Zumba class on Wednesdays and she commented on how much I seem to enjoy the classes.

It’s true, I seem to be the only one in them laughing, and smiling while, others look like they are in pain.

It made me wonder about my past self-harm behaviors. They made me feel better, they made me feel, they caused some form of “feel good” trigger that others could not understand. Intense workouts seems to do the same type of thing. Interesting… It is definitely a much better coping mechanism. Sorry, I am all over the place on this post. I share my interaction with her because after class I tried to talk to her again. There were several things that felt awkward, but I did not know what they were or why, again.

Until, I was in the car on my way home.

I felt much better after leaving; Ariel had fun in the activity center so I was happy about that. As we sat at a stop light I started laughing hard, saying aloud, “Oh, my gosh I feel embarrassed.” Ariel asked me about what. I shared with her what I had said about not having friends and then, realizing that everyone was looking at me oddly because people do not usually say those types of things. I then, realized that some of them were looking at me with faces that may have been “I feel sorry for you” types of looks or something. It made me feel sad.

I laughed again thinking how funny I sounded being so matter-of-fact about not having friends.

I thought how confusing it must have been for the ladies because my expression was stoic. I was not sad it was simply the truth. In my mind, I would love to invite more people because I never want the class to end – EVER! (Unless I get bored and find another workout. ) However, I was struck again with embarrassment and sadness. (All of this through the eight stop lights on the way home.) I had every moment when I have been asked to “invite friends” to some sort of function flood my brain along with the emotions. At school, at work, at church, to parties, now at the Y. I have not had friends to invite. Either I only had one friend, who may or may not have been interested in what I was doing or I had no one.

I thought how silly I would have sounded to the women had I shared the whole truth, I have no friends, except online.

“Yes, ladies my only friendships live hundreds or thousands of miles away in other states and countries, who may or may not be using their real names!” AND I LIKE IT! Don’t get me wrong, I do want friends in real life. I live in a constant conundrum of longing to have a friend in real life and enjoying my solitude. There are days when I desperately wished I had someone to come over to my house that would just help me as friends do, or comfort me when nothing else can. However, in my experience I tend to take on the role of “comforter, helper, problem solver” for them. It drains me and tires me leaving me unable to share anything that I am going through.

I do not feel sad about not having friends until I am asked to invite them somewhere.

That goes for social media too. I do have several “friends” on my facebook pages, but when I am asked to invite people or share, I get that same awkward feeling and my head fills with the words, “I have no friends.” I feel sad about that too, but once again I am not exactly sure why. I see other people who I follow that have a TON of “friends” and it makes me wonder why I do not.

Is it because I am not able to maintain my social interactions?

Is it because people genuinely do not like me? Is it because no one can relate to me? Is it because they are just not interested in me? Are these the reasons why I do not have friends in real life? Am I too strange, awkward, and/or arrogant? I ask these types of questions without any emotion. Sometimes I am overcome with emotions when I think if it other times, like today it is merely wonderment. I do not feel badly, I just do not understand nor do I know how to change it.

I still find my social awkwardness funny, despite all the other emotions that it stirs up.

I am not sure if others know what I am talking about, it would be nice to know if anyone else feels these types of things. I wonder if there are others who feel that constant confusion of feeling lonely, but liking to be alone. I do wish that I had someone else with me at times to point out these awkward situations to help me process and guide me into feeling ok about it. I will do it on my own, or I will be remaining oblivious, as I have done in the past, but every once in awhile I really wish I had someone to share this stuff with, another socially awkward person perhaps? Another introvert type that could make me laugh when I say inappropriate things?

Hey, is anyone willing to Skype with me to my next Piloxing class? Ha ha ha

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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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04/18/13

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.

[Show as slideshow]

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04/17/13

Book Review

I was asked to review Asperger’s Sibling Support: 15 Practical Tips for Parents/Caregivers. The book was written by Trish Thorpe. It is written from her experience being the younger sibling of an Aspergers sibling.

I was very interested in reading it because I have my own concerns and challenges with raising three children. One diagnosed with Autism and my other two who show many traits. While they are most likely on the Autism spectrum, (working on diagnosis) there are similar issues that happen in a family with Autistic and non-autistic siblings.

As I read the book, I did have to pull out of my own Aspergers thinking and not take words literally or personally. I think that is a good thing. When I read her words, I was able to see from her perspective as well as place others who are in my own life into her position. In doing so, I was able to see how much of her heart to share and help others was written into this book. I share that because there is much talk about how Aspergers/Autistics are perceived as people that lack empathy. It is a touchy subject and it is addressed in the book briefly.

My personal experience reveals otherwise, however, from others my actions and behaviors have been perceived as lacking empathy. In every case, we are individuals and express ourselves in unique ways.

I felt that the book was an excellent guide to help with children, especially younger ones, in order to help them to understand their world with an Aspergers sibling. I think it is a beneficial tool for parents to help know how to communicate to their children about Aspergers; the challenges and the benefits of Aspergers.

It gives great bullet points and short precise helps. The book shares simple examples that can be applied quickly and with ease. It gives insights as to how to help better understand and have compassion for their sibling with Aspergers, but it also addresses that the needs of non-autistic siblings should not be ignored. I think that is extremely important too.

I believe this would be a great book for anyone who has a child(ren) on the spectrum to help them know how to communicate to their other children. It may be a useful guide to teachers as well.

I really liked the way that she was positive and gave more resources to help seek support for siblings.

I have linked above to her book and website for more information.

Go check it out!

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Mind Retrofit

Upgrading to the Asperger's Life

Tag Archives: confusion

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

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