05/25/13

Props To The Old Man In The Car

Deep breath… wow has this week felt never-ending. I wonder why when things happen they continually seem to happen all at once. I cannot remember having a calm moment in months. This week started with me pushing Daniel to do 8 hours of school on Sunday. Yeah, it happened and it was rough. Then, I had to push him Monday and Tuesday in order for him to complete all of his lessons by the designated date. He did it! He did not complete his last two portfolios in their entirety, but he did most of it.

He was exhausted and hit his limits.

He still did his OT, Speech, and reading helps classes. (With a couple hiccups) He was sad that he would not see his teachers and therapists. He does not really know how to process summer break. We hope to get the same therapists next year, but it is not set in stone. It would be very beneficial to his progress if he did. Everyone knows this, but things happen so we just have to wait and see. He will have his Special Ed teacher next year. Yay! She is working on trying to set up Joshua’s assessments and accommodations too. I am thankful that I know her and she understands where I am coming from. It would be wonderful if Joshua were to get the teacher that Ariel and Daniel had this year for his second grade year.

It would help him because he has met her and ME because she already knows me and I know her.

I am already feeling anxiety about meeting Ariel and Daniel’s new teacher next year. I really hope I can connect to them. However, I am a little freaked out wondering if it will be a man. A man!? Then, I think maybe that would work out better I do tend to get along with men better, BUT what if he is a man that I cannot relate to and he does not understand the needs of my children and he won’t listen to me because I am a woman and he has a voice that gets on my nerves AND he thinks he knows everything in the entire world and and… AND what if it is a woman who is like that and what if she does not understand the struggles my children have and will not listen to me because she does not like me and…

I will stop with the “ands.”

Thursday was the last day of school and my mind hopped on the “new teacher” anxiety train. I did it throughout my entire school career why not do it with my kids too. OK! We made it through to Tuesday pretty well. On Wednesday, I still had to squeeze five hours of school out of everybody. I managed it, barely. (Same thing for Thursday these kiddos were tired, me too.) However, on Wednesday I scheduled a dentist appointment for all three of them. I know, what was I thinking? That is another post. It went well for the most part.

I planned to have a nice calm day on Thursday.

Um, nope. The floor decided to spew water all over the place leaving nice puddles for Joshua to fall on sliding down the kitchen floor like a Slip-n-Slide. He did not think it was fun. Wet clothes are never a good thing around here for us sensory sensitive folks. As I investigated the matter, I discovered that the kitchen pipe was leaking and it was under the floor causing water to come out through the seam at the base of the cabinets. I had already had a slight panic earlier that day because the owner’s (we rent) sister came by to look at the yard and the frog pond. We told everyone repeatedly that it was bad. We had asked several times for them to send someone out to take care of the landscaping (it’s in the lease) and each time they said someone would – no one came.

I was told NOT to touch the landscaping; we are to take care of the grass and leaves.

We have been trying, but the leaves are ridiculous because we basically live in a forest. The grass is looking good. I was nervous because even when nothing is my fault I take responsibility for it. I feel badly if something is wrong because I feel as though I am responsible for this house because I am living in it. I felt the same way with the kitchen pipe. The frog pond is a mess and we discovered that it was supposed to be covered. The cover is in the garage. No one told us and the gardener was supposed to put it on!

We are not responsible, but I still feel bad.

I felt anxiety about that and because of the anticipation of her coming. She DID NOT come at 8:30 am when her sister said that she would be here. With every minute that she was not here, the more anxious I got. Finally, I told David he had to talk to her. I was almost in tears at 8:49 am when she finally arrived. Then, we had to wait for a maintenance person to come and check out the kitchen. I could not think straight, my head was fuzzy, and I felt panicky and nervous until the guy arrived.

Thankfully, the kids had computer reading classes that they could do.

He discovered that the main kitchen pipe burst and he made plans to come the next morning. (I am getting to the old man part, hold on. I am sharing all of this because these factors contribute to Daniel’s response that I share later in this post.) He had to take out the pipes and replace them, turns out it had a slow leak from the time we have been here or before. I had to make unscheduled plans with the kids because well, it is just much better to take the kids out to do something than to try to explain every single what, why, where, when, how, so and so forth to Daniel. He would have been too anxious about everything going on. The noise and smells would have sent him to a massive meltdown.

I decided to take them to the park, have a picnic, and to the library.

We went to the park and a little boy tried and tried to make friends with Daniel. He asked him his name, and then asked me his name when Daniel would not answer him. I told Daniel to tell him his name and asked him if he wanted to play with the boy. Daniel said, “No, I don’t want to.” So I called for Ariel, but the boy did not want to play with her. I called for Joshua and they were a perfect fit. They played the entire time. Daniel was happy doing his thing – alone. Ariel was sad because she had no one to play with. I decided that she and I needed to play on the bars and the monkey bars.

There were groups of preschoolers coming in and out while we were there.

Daniel loved it because he likes to play with younger children and he LOVES babies. He is so cute to watch. He is very gentle and smiley with them. Another little girl who seemed about Ariel’s age came, she was very shy like Ariel. I decided that I would try to bridge the gap. The girl became comfortable talking to me, it helped that I was doing flips and hanging upside down off the bars. She and the other little kids thought I was the coolest mom. Daniel even started to participate by hanging on the bars and said, “Hey, mom look at me!”

After a little while, the girls took off to play among themselves.

I stayed back helping little kiddies get on the bars and swing back and forth. I thought to myself, I am very good at making friends for others, but not for myself. This has happened numerous times in my life. I have been able to connect people and they become friends then, after the connection it seems my part is done. Just an interesting tidbit.

We had our picnic and headed to a store so I could grab something to eat.

I did not have enough time to pack myself a lunch and I was starving. Everything went fine, but Daniel was showing signs of being overloaded. I managed to get him out to the car and that is when it happened. I stopped Daniel from going into the car first because Ariel and Joshua have their seats in the back. They needed to get in first; I had been telling him this all day and he kept forgetting.

When I did it this time, he lost it.

He started yelling at the top of his lungs, “I keep forgetting! I keep forgetting. Why do I keep forgetting?” I looked around not to see if there were people around, but because I was confused by his response. I did not understand why he would be so upset about forgetting something. (Of course, I did! I do that too.) As I looked around though I saw in the corner of my eye the old man sitting in his car right next to us, window down listening to the news on his radio. I ignored him, quickly hugged Daniel, and said, “It’s ok, we forget things sometimes. It is ok to forget.” He was banging his body into mine and then, he tried to pull away from me screaming a blood-curdling scream that ripped through my ears.

He would not get into the car.

He started crying, repeating, “Why do I forget? Why do I forget?” I continued to reassure him that it was ok and there was nothing wrong with forgetting and that there was nothing wrong with him. He did let me hug him and give him some deep pressure, which calmed him enough to get him into the car. When I got in, I asked him if I needed to take him home to have a break. He said, “NO! We are supposed to go to the library!” I told him that we could not go if he felt like that because it may be too much for him. I reminded him of how much we had done and that it was ok if we needed to go home for a break. He said that he was going to be fine and that he did not want to go home.

I buckled the kids, got out of the back, saw the old man, and said, “Sorry, for the screaming.”

I was sorry that it was so loud, I was not sorry for anything else. I must give some props to the man. He did a head nod, a little finger up move without a judgmental face or word. I got into the car took a deep breath, opened up my turkey wrap and off we went to the library. The library went great. A few moments of “almosts,” even though Daniel was tapped out he still wanted to stay. Ariel and Joshua were tired and really wanted to get home. Luckily, grandma was coming over to give me a break so when I told Daniel that she would be there soon he was ready to leave right away.

“Grandma with the white hair” trumps ALL things for Daniel.

I know I shared quite a bit in here, but I had a lot to process. These are outside sources that have affects on me (and the kids) inside my mind there is another whole perplexing and complicated world mixed with emotions, social, sensory, and whatnot. I was happy with the fact that yesterday I had no thought whatsoever about what another person might think, say, or do when Daniel was having a hard time. I am glad that I was able to understand his frustrations about forgetting. I was happy that I could help him and have the situation end with him feeling good about himself. I was VERY thankful that the old man just sat there.

His head nod, finger move, and nonjudgmental silence made me wish a lot more people would do just that.

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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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05/15/13

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.

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05/12/13

Happy Mother’s Day!

I have such great things to write about when I get a moment. I will be able to share some details about how my mom and I have such “awkwardness” when we first see each other after it has been awhile. Several things have come to light that helps me understand even more of our differences even though we are both Aspergers women, and the differences with my Grandma who my mom and I are quite certain is an Aspie too. We are three generations of unique Autistic women who have managed to navigate through this world with no understanding or help. It has made for many life struggles and challenges, but it also reveals how much we have overcome and persevered on our own.

I am not big on celebrating Mother’s Day.

Neither is my mom or Grandma, we met for lunch today and completely forgot to say “Happy Mother’s Day.” Even after my uncle had stopped by and brought my Grandma flowers. Lol! After remembering, I said, “Oh, I am sorry I did not get you guy’s cards or anything.” They both shrugged and said, “Either did we.” I love that! There is no guilt or condemnation. We know where we stand with each other and we just enjoy our time together. After lunch, we went to the mall, because my mom and Grandma like shopping. I do not, but I do enjoy walking and talking with them AND Grandma bought me a cute dress and top. Score!

It has been a good day, but I am exhausted.

The mall sucks all of the energy out of the three of us. The sensory stuff really drains me and when I feel crowded by people and merchandise it gets to me. Still I had a marvelous time with the two ladies that influenced my life the most while growing up. I wish a very wonderful Mother’s Day to all the mothers out there. I hope that you are having a great day, if it is day that causes you to struggle my thoughts are with you. There are many reasons why that could be and for those reasons, I sometimes do not say any anything about Mother’s Day or Father’s Day. (((HUGS))) to any of you who may need one!

May your heart be filled with joy and peace today! (Each and every day.)

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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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04/21/13

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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04/17/13

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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May 2013
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