Category Archives: Depression

I Can’t Anymore . . .

NOTE: I feel that this writing is lacking, but I am struggling right now and needed to write and release it out in cyber space in order to reduce the build up of emotions inside of me.  I feel there needs to be a trigger warning, but I am not sure what to warn about. There is mention of depression and the thought of wanting to die, but please understand that I am not in any way suicidal. My hope is that this writing may help someone else that is also going through a difficult situation. Now, deep breath . . .

I can’t. I just can’t anymore. I feel so done with everything.  I know I am grieving again, but a person can only take so much emotional turmoil in their life.  I don’t want to have to start over again.  I have done this so many times before.  I don’t feel I have the energy anymore, but I will carry on.  I always do.  I will continue on, but tonight as I type this, I don’t want to.  I am so tired of it all, the pain, the heartache, the feeling of loss.

Oh, gosh, the pain, always with the pain. I am not just talking about physical pain.  I have a lot of that. My body has been degenerating, well, for as long as I can remember.  Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome will do that to you.  What is hurting me more right now, what is gouging at me, is the emotional pain. Physical pain takes a huge emotional toll on a person, but the lack of emotional support from loved ones makes it almost unbearable.  It is so bad that you want to die.

Do I want to die tonight? No, but I want to give up.  Everything I have been fighting to hold on to for almost 20 years is disintegrating right before my eyes.  It might be an archaic idea, but I am the type that bonds for life.  Unfortunately, I bonded with a man who doesn’t hold these same views.

I have written a lot about this man’s behavior over the past several years. It was a way for me to process through the grief and here I am again, grieving over another lost dream.  A dream of a new future, a new start with this same man who I naively thought shared the same dream as I did. 

I was wrong. His lifestyle choice seems to be more important to him than his own family and our relationship.  It is so frustrating.  I know this man loves me and he loves his children, but he is clueless when it comes to doing what is necessary to maintain a healthy relationship. 

There is a pull to be angry, but why? I have been there before many times.  It is an emotion a person needs to go through when processing things, but one needs to work past the anger.  Sadness and loss is what I feel tonight.  Sadness and loss is what I am familiar with when dealing with this particular man.  I guess tonight this sadness and loss is filled with more answered questions, then unanswered.  At least I have that.  For too many years I did not even have that, which only led to high levels of anxiety. 

Tonight, what I feel is depression and the knowledge that I have done all that I can. It is all on him now.  I fear that this is where it will finally stop, my ongoing effort I mean.  For nearly two decades I have tried and tried, but I can’t anymore.  There comes a time when there is enough evidence to show that you have hit a dead end, because you have done all that you can and still have gotten nowhere.   

I have been through so much in my life, so much crap. I have Complex-PTSD because of it, layers of trauma over many years. I am the autistic one, the person whom others have claimed has no empathy, no feelings, and has been called a robot and stuck up, but have also been told I am too emotional and too sensitive. Well, which is it?  You can’t be too emotional and too sensitive, but also lack empathy and feelings.  It doesn’t work that way.

I can tell you with all honesty that I have extremely strong empathy, so much so that it hurts. I have a very hard time separating what I feel from those I am around, particularly those who I care about. I might just not express it in ways that the general population may expect.  I feel it all, though.  I can’t seem to filter it out, just like I can’t filter out sensory input.  It is all bombarding me at once. 

I am a textbook autistic person. I say what I mean and mean what I say.  There is no hidden message and there is nothing written between the lines. I am a blunt and honest person who adheres to the virtues of integrity and honor.  I am also loyal and trusting, much to my own peril.  As a friend of mine once said, people like she and I seem to have a target on our foreheads, because of how we are. 

Where I come from, non-autistic people seem to be the ones who “lack empathy”, at least they seem to be this way towards others who don’t think like them. This same man that I have been referring to has come to some realizations as of late. 

My basic needs are not the same as his. It has taken him a very long time to come to realize this.  How I express my happiness is also not the same as his way as well as what makes me happy is not the same as what makes him happy.

More on this here —-> I am Real, I am Human, and I Feel!

I do not understand why he would have so much trouble understanding this, but he is still struggling with this whole concept.  This non-autistic man seems to be only able to see the world through his eyes, yet I am the one who is said to be lacking in “theory of mind”.  No, I am not lacking in “theory of mind”. I am just different.

——————–

This is my blog that I wrote in July 2013 entitled “Theory of Mind – The Debate Continues” .

Here is Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg’s blog entitled “A Critique of the Theory of Mind” .

And Ariane Zurcher’s blog entitled “An Empathic Debunking of the Theory Of Mind” .

——————–

How do I deal with all of this? I practice mindfulness.  From What Is Mindfulness? :

“Mindfulness means maintaining a moment-by-moment awareness of our thoughts, feelings, bodily sensations, and surrounding environment.

Mindfulness also involves acceptance, meaning that we pay attention to our thoughts and feelings without judging them—without believing, for instance, that there’s a “right” or “wrong” way to think or feel in a given moment. When we practice mindfulness, our thoughts tune into what we’re sensing in the present moment rather than rehashing the past or imagining the future.”

I suppose my writing is one way for me to practice mindfulness. Before I started typing tonight I felt like my life was imploding.  The life that I wanted is basically over and I just couldn’t take it anymore.  After putting myself in the moment and allowing the emotions I was feeling to come out in written form, I am starting to feel the pressure that was building up inside me subside.

Deep breaths .  .  . I will not give up. I will get through this. 

Hear My Battle Cry  (A poem I wrote.)

“If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward.”

― Martin Luther King Jr.

Hear My Battle Cry

Here I am sitting at my lap top again trying to find words and at the same time I am listening to “Battle Cry” by Imagine Dragons.  I am in a battle now, a battle to just hold on, to make it through, and to survive.  Life shouldn’t be this hard.  How did my life get so hard? I will not give up, though.  I will keep fighting. This is my battle cry!

Hear My Battle Cry

I will make it through!

I will survive!

Hear my battle cry!

 

I may be hungry.

I may be cold.

I may be in pain.

 

But, I will make it through!

I will survive!

Hear my battle cry!

 

I may feel hopeless.

I may feel lost.

I may feel alone and isolated.

 

But, I will make it through!

I will survive!

Hear my battle cry!

 

My body may be taxed.

My mind may be flooded.

My spirits may be shattered.

 

But, I will make it through!

I will survive!

Hear my battle cry!

do-not-give-up

Finding Hope

NOTE:  This blog was originally written as a journal entry for my Peer Support Specialist as part of my Wellness Recovery Action Plan.  It reads somewhat choppy, but I wanted to share it nonetheless.  My children have given me permission to share their medical information as long as I don’t use their names.

(Trigger Warning:  Reference to suicide, emotional abuse, and trauma.)

“Hope is the life force that keeps us going and gives us something to live for. Hope is a crucial part of dealing with life’s problems and maintaining resilience in the face of obstacles. Even a glimmer of hope that our situation will turn around can keep us going.” – Joe Wilner (How We Lose Hope and How to Get it Back)

The word “hope” is defined as a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen. I sit here staring at my computer monitor trying to think of things that bring me hope. Where is that feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen?  I seem to be lacking it.  I am in full-on survival mode and have been for some time. The feeling of hope seems to not be in the equation for me.  

I sit here reminding myself it has been bleak before, I mean really bleak. Bleak to the point where I didn’t want to live anymore.  I was never suicidal, I just wanted the physical and emotional pain to end and I only saw death as a way to finally escape it all.

What kept me going?

My responsibility to my two young children is what kept me going. I refused to leave them without a mother.  They were only a baby and a toddler at the time and they had a father who wasn’t always around and grandparents who only wanted to involve themselves on their terms, which was limited. 

This all happened years before I was diagnosed with Autism, years before we knew both my children were also autistic, and years before realizing my daughter also had Bipolar. Medical trauma, grief, chronic pain, post-partum depression, family neglect, emotional abuse, isolation, lack of a proper diagnosis, lack of support from anywhere lead me into the worst autistic burnout I have ever experienced and without a proper diagnosis I had no idea what was happening to me.  I thought I was losing my mind.  I was diagnosed with PTSD during this time.  This diagnosis would eventually grow into Complex-PTSD.  

I have experienced burnout many times since, but never to the extent of how it was during those very dark, dark days of my late twenties/early thirties. Unfortunately, I am finding myself horribly burnout out again, more so than I have been in a very long time.  I am 41 years old.  My daughter will be 16 next month and my son will be 14 two months after that.  One October night in 2012, my world once again began to fall apart.  My husband, whom I had been with since 1998, sat me down and told me he didn’t want to be married any more, he didn’t want the responsibility of a family any more. 

Things continued to get worse and worse. My husband was self-destructing from a life-long struggle with untreated severe clinical depression and he was taking the family down with him.  I will not go into detail of the three years of hell that my family went through over this, but I will say that my son developed PTSD from emotional abuse by his father.  My daughter grieved like her father had died, yet there was a stranger walking around with his face. 

Fast forward three years, my husband finally agreed to get professional help and has since come home. We have spent the last year trying to rebuild our family.  Five months ago we moved to a very isolated area with dream.  We would build a house together and start our new life as a family, all four of us together.  Unfortunately, life happens when you are making other plans. 

We have been living in what can be described as a glorified shed with tarps for walls. It is the end of November. We have no plumbing or insulation. What electricity we have comes from heavy duty extension cords that are plugged into the meter outside and drugged into the house. We can’t run much on them or we end up popping circuits.  We do have a wood stove, but with no insulation, it can only keep the house just below 50 degrees Fahrenheit, the bedrooms are even colder.  We are miserable.

Due to unforeseen financial problems over the last few months, who knows yet when we will have plumbing. My in-laws’ house is about a football field’s length away. We utilize their kitchen and plumbing. They are very caring people, but their house is small and they are very elderly.  My mother-in-law has had two strokes, is diabetic, has blood pressure problems, and needs round the clock care which my father-in-law provides.  Their house is very unpredictable and stressful.  It is hard to explain, but no one can handle being in their house for more than a few hours. We are looking at another six to eight more months without plumbing. It realistically could be longer than that.

Even though I call my husband “my husband”, we are not legally married any more. He made sure of that during those three years of hell.  He recently has informed me that he doesn’t know what makes me happy and he doesn’t know how to meet my needs when it comes to our relationship.  That really hit me hard. After all these years, he still doesn’t know how to be a husband to me (he has admitted that he has sucked at being a husband and father), but there is a positive note to this.  He wants to learn and he is listening.  Progress has been at a snail’s pace, though, painfully slow, but for the first time he is putting in real effort. He is committed and is determined to make our relationship work.   

Then there is my employment situation. I have been a certified teacher for 18 years in grades Kindergarten – 12th grade.  The 2011-2012 school year literally almost killed me with stress.  Over the past four years I have slowly been transitioning myself away from working a daily teaching job.  I can no longer physically or mentally continue working every day and also care for my two children who cannot attend a regular school day at a school.  They are both homeschooled, but are also enrolled in our local Home Link program, and my daughter receives her education services at our local high school by attending only mornings Monday – Friday. 

I finished my Master’s degree last April. I now officially have the credentials to say I am both a professional in Autism Education and a Science Teacher, yet I am still under employed and I don’t see how that is going to change anytime soon.  As of now I have five invisible disabilities:  Autism, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, Complex-PTSD, and Dyscalculia.  I struggle everyday with chronic pain, Misophonia, anxiety mixed with depression, and I struggle to live in a world that is not designed for someone like me. I have been on ten different anti-depressants, five different anti-anxiety medications, and three different sleep aids.  I have tried a variety of pain medications as well.  I have paradoxical effects with all these types of medications. Nothing works for me and only makes things worse.

My medication is running. I have been a runner for 23 years and I fight every day to stay out of a wheel chair.  Due to the continued degradation of my connective tissues all over my body from Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, it is only a matter of time before running may be taken from me. I have already had to give up weight lifting, backpacking, mowing, gardening in other than large pots, picking boxes up, moving furniture, the list keeps growing every time another injury occurs or another body system begins to fail. I carry on, though. I just brace up my joints, bind up my torso, and continue to persevere.  I have to, but it gets harder and harder when the feeling of hope just isn’t there. The chronic pain wears you down.

With all of this, I am still struggling in thinking about what brings me hope.

The first thing that comes to mind as I have been typing all this out are the two young people who kept me going before when I found myself horribly burned out, my two children. They are everything to me and I am determined to persevere above all odds for them, always.

I have been told by my own mother that she would never be able to do what I do. If it had been her raising my children instead of me, my daughter would have been sent away a long time ago. As for my son, his needs would also have been ignored just like mine had growing up, because he is so “high-functioning” in my mother’s eyes.  Neither my son nor I are “high-functioning”, but we are quiet enough to be easily ignored.

Both my children have Dysgraphia and both are autistic (my daughter as an accompanying expressive language impairment and my son does not).

My daughter was also diagnosed with Bipolar II (but it may instead be Schizo-affective Disorder – Bipolar Type) with debilitating anxiety. She takes six type of medication either once, twice, or three times a day depending on the type. We have alarms set to help her remember to take her medication. She has been hospitalized once for suicidal thoughts and hallucinations telling her to use knives to kill herself.  

My son was also diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Panic Disorder, Agoraphobia, and Social Anxiety as well as Misophonia. He also struggles with re-occurring depression. He takes two types of medication once or twice a day depending on the type. He has been on suicide watch twice.

Then there is the glimmer of hope that comes when I look in my husband’s eyes now and see the man I married in there. In his eyes I see an older, tired, and struggling version, but I see hope there, too.  He sees a future for us, a future that I thought we had lost that one October night when he decided to give up on me, our family, and the life we had. 

I have not reached the same point where he is, but I want to.  This place where we live now is where he grew up.  This is his world, but it is not mine.  This is why I am not at the same point where he is.  This world is so foreign to me.  The language is different, the mannerisms are different, the way of life is different, and I am cut off from my world due to our rotten living conditions.  No internet and all my belongings, my tools I use to self-regulate and make my environment safe and comfortable, are all locked up in storage.

My senses have been on overdrive since moving here. Everything is too loud and too bright. It hurts here.  Then there is the problem of my husband’s recent poor choices haunting us.  During those three years of hell he involved himself with four women in ways he shouldn’t have.  One of these women he purposely used to rip our family apart and my children and I caught him with her. Neither had feelings for each other, which just made it worse for me.  This woman ended up marrying my husband’s first wife and they both show up at my in-laws’ house on a regular basis. They are also both invited to family gatherings, gatherings we can’t go to because of their presence.  I am reminded of my recent trauma and loss all the time.  I can’t get away from it. This has taken a considerable toll on me.

“Though, when we begin to lose hope, things can seem bleak. When we run into constant resistance and are prevented from reaching our goals we can start to feel like there is nothing to live for. If we can’t get to where we want to be and don’t feel in control of our life, what’s the point?” – Joe Wilner (How We Lose Hope and How to Get it Back)

I have been finding myself asking, “What’s the point?”

What is the point? Why do I keep going when all there seems to be is endless struggle and pain?

The answer:

Because I must!

My life would be very different if I had been dealt a different set of cards. I know this, but there is no point in lamenting over that fact. I was dealt a certain set of cards and I have to live with what I was given and make the most of it. 

Over the years, I have written a lot about persevering and not giving up. I have to keep on fighting.  I have to keep moving forward.  I have to keep trying to reach that light at the end of the tunnel.  When I was at my darkest all those years ago, I kept telling myself that the tunnel will end and light will be reached again.  I knew it would happen, because that was the only option available.

I am there again telling myself that this dark, burned out tunnel that I have found myself in will eventually end. It has to.  I don’t know what I will find when I reach the light again.  My life may once again be transformed into something I wasn’t planning on, but at least I will be there to see that transformation. 

I will persevere. I will keep moving forward.  I will keep on keeping on.  That is the only option I have. 

 

Perhaps that is where my hope really lies, by keep on keeping on . . .

 

“If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward.”

― Martin Luther King Jr.

The Hell of a Meltdown – When Your Brain Becomes Flooded and Short Circuits

explosion

Image found at Regarding Autistic Meltdowns: What They Are, How to Handle Them, and Why Kids Having Meltdowns are NOT Naughty Brats

My Facebook post from yesterday:

So, meltdowns suck, are painful, are hugely embarrassing, and you cannot stop them . . .

Meltdowns don’t stop when you become an adult . . .

A meltdown has been ongoing all day . . . I am in hell . . .

My environment sucks . . .

Trying to block everything out with music. Life keeps intruding . . .

 According to Bec Oakley from Snagglebox, “Anybody Can Have A Meltdown”:

What are meltdowns?

Put simply, a meltdown is a state of neurological chaos where the brain and nervous system overheat and stop working properly. It’s called that because it’s the body’s equivalent to a meltdown in a nuclear power plant, in which the fuel in the reactor core becomes so hot that it melts and releases energy.

Sometimes it gets so hot that it causes an explosion, and the energy is released outside of the core. It’s this explosive reaction (crying, yelling, lashing out) that most people refer to when they talk about behavioural meltdowns, but that’s just the bit that you can see. There’s a whole lot more going on inside during a meltdown.

Bec Oakley goes on to describe what happens during a meltdown:

What happens during a meltdown?

When we find ourselves in a stressful situation from which we can’t easily escape, the brain becomes flooded with emotional, sensory or cognitive input which jams the circuits and kicks off the ‘fight or flight’ responses associated with panic. Executive functions like memory, planning, reasoning and decision making start to shut down, which makes it even more difficult to find a way out of the situation.

Eventually the neurological pressure builds to the point where it begins to trip internal circuits like language, or is released externally as an outburst of physical energy like yelling, hitting or running away. Although this explosive reaction often seems to come from nowhere, it’s just one part of the meltdown cycle.

Meltdowns are horrid things.  They hurt so much and you can’t stop them. They also don’t stop simply by becoming an adult.  I am 41 years old and I still have them.  At least now I know what they are and I can feel them building.  Five years ago I didn’t know what meltdowns were.  I also didn’t know what autistic burnout was.  Five years ago I was finally diagnosed and I finally had answers.  I wasn’t crazy, I wasn’t losing my mind, and I wasn’t broken. 

The first time I went into autistic burnout I had no idea what was happening to me. I had no words to describe it.  It was hell.  It felt like I had been sucked into a black hole.  I was being torn apart, yet no one could see it.  I was screaming for help, but no one heard me.  I had to claw my way out on my own.  It took years.  During that time I was diagnosed with PTSD. That was just over 12 years ago. That initial PTSD diagnoses has now been upgraded to Complex-PTSD.

I have fallen into autistic burnout many times since, but I knew what it was and I knew what to do. I have once again fallen into autistic burnout, but this time is different. I know longer have a healing environment to submerse myself in.  In fact, it is this environment that I currently exist in that has led to this newest bout of autistic burnout.  I have been having more and more meltdowns.  Yesterday was a particularly bad one.  As I type this I am still struggling to recover from it.  I am shaking as I type.  The crying that started yesterday morning hasn’t really stopped.  My brain wants to shut down, but I have to keep going.  I have responsibilities to take care of.  I don’t have the luxury of shutting down to allow my body and mind to heal. 

Yesterday evening I went through my old blogs looking for ones about meltdowns. I started blogging in September 2012. Pain and struggle seem to be re-occurring themes with me and it is getting really old.  Today I have been playing Avril Lavinge – Keep Holding On  over and over again. I am determined to make it through.  I will keep holding on.

Here are my past blogs about meltdowns:

The Dreaded Meltdown – Part 1 and The Dreaded Meltdown – Part 2 – February 10, 2013

Why Won’t They Listen? – January 27, 2014

Being Emotionally Exhausted – February 27, 2014

Here I am Again – The Long Road of Living Exhausted – January 8, 2015

Side to Side – May 13, 2015

Here is some more useful information about meltdowns and autistic burnout:

The Tell Tale Signs of Burnout … Do You Have Them? – Psychology Today Article

Ask an Autistic #3 – What is Autistic Burnout? – Video

Meltdowns: triggers vs. root cause – Blog (Life, His Way – Thriving with Autism)

 

Rescuing Myself from Unrelenting Frustration

Frustration. I am not talking about the type of frustration that you experience while sitting in a car and the person in the car next to you is blasting the bass that pounds your ears, it is too hot, and the red light just won’t change to green. You can escape from that type of frustration.

I am talking about the type of frustration that is ongoing and seemingly unrelenting. The type of frustration that you can’t escape from, the type that makes you feel stuck and helpless in an intolerable situation that you can’t do anything about.  I have been experiencing this type of frustration for far too long.  

Here is a video by Charlie McDonnell about him coming out about having anxiety and depression – Anxiety, Depression, and Being a Downer.

I can’t escape it, I can’t make it better, and it is not going to get any better any time soon. I am past the point of “dealing with it”.  I am to the point of just trying to survive it.  I must endure for mine and my family’s sake.  They are stuck in the same frustration that I am, but how we each are experiencing it is unique to each individual.

How do I explain this? Where do I start?

First of all, we are in the process of building a house. Due to weather and financial setbacks we got behind on our building time line.  Our lease ended before our house was even close to being able to be lived in.  As of tonight, we are on our 26th night living in tents on our building site which is on half of my in-laws’ 160 acres of cleared pasture, but mostly heavily treed land.  Three nights ago I was done with tent living.

It is not just the fact that we are living in tents that has gotten me to this place. It is the constant buzzing of insects (lots and lots of yellow jackets), the heat during the day and the cold at night, the dust, the lack of proper bathroom and kitchen facilities, lack of privacy, the lack of sleep, lack of proper nutrition, and lack of money.

As I type this I am struck by my privilege. Here I am typing this on my laptop while sitting in my tent with a bottle of clean water next to me.  I am used to having a proper toilet, running water, and a cold refrigerator.  I am used to having four solid walls and windows and doors that lock.  I am use to having access to the internet on a regular basis.  I am use to being in an environment where I can control for the most part how light or dark or cold or hot I want it to be. 

I am not used to living in tents. I am used to tents being something you use to go camping in when on vacation, not to live in for a prolonged period of time.  I am coming from a place of privilege and I am whining about how frustrating my current situation is.  Yes, it could be worse.  We could be living out on the street.  We are not eating well, but we are not starving. It could be winter instead of summer. 

Again, yes, it could be worse. The key here is that I am not accustomed to this type of prolonged living.  There is no safe place for me. My body and mind cannot recover from the stress in the way that I need them to and am using so many more “spoons” living in this environment then I would be in the environment that I am accustomed to, the one that is safe for me.  I have lived in various states of burnout for years.  I know what I need to do in order to replenish my “spoons” so I can function well.  I am using way too many “spoons” right now and I am not able to adequately replenish them.  I knew it was going to be hard, but it still frustrates me that I am not able to tolerate living in tents to the level that I had hoped I would.    

An addition to our stressful living situation is the constant driving that I am doing (my daughter is an outpatient at a facility that is two hours away from where we live now). I am on the road four to eight hours a day depending if I come home or not during the eight and a half hours that my daughter is away.  That is A LOT of money being used to pay for gas.  I had fuel vouchers, but they were revoked for reasons we still don’t quite understand.  What we got out of it was that psychiatric health care is not seen as important as physical health care.  It is a long story that I won’t go into here, but just more frustration to add to the mix.

There is also the stress with our pets (one dog, three cats, and two parakeets) and the problems we have had with feral cats trying to get to our house cats that stay in my tent all day. My tent has been slashed open in many places. I sewed it up as best as I could, but the tent is pretty much trashed.  

Then there is the big problem of dealing with my husband’s past transgressions and all the choices he made during a three year period of hell when he was self-destructing. For more Information regarding this read Reaching for More, but also Striving for Balance.

My family is still in the process of healing from that and we got hit big time these past few weeks with triggers and the stress of unprocessed pain. We can’t seem to get away from the triggers (i.e. certain individuals that will remain nameless).  It has been a particularly difficult time for all of us, but since the pain has been brought forth front and center, it shows what we still need to address.  So many unanswered questions, so much confusion, so much hurt.

This all came ahead four nights ago. We had made it 22 nights, then I had a meltdown and my son had an anxiety attack at the same time.  That was Sunday night.  Tuesday morning my daughter had one of the worst meltdowns she has had in a very long time.  Later that day my husband admitted that he was overloaded.  He wants out of the tents as well.

Unfortunately, our house still is not livable quite yet. Today is Wednesday and the good news is that the metal roofing is going up on Friday and hopefully will be completed by Monday.  We don’t have the money for doors or windows yet, but we have talked about screening up everything and moving some stuff into the house so we and the pets can get out of the tents.  With the metal roofing up, we can then start putting in the wiring, then the insulation, then finally the drywall.    

We are building this house on our own with the help of friends and family and out of our own pockets. The going is slow and the frustration is high. Why are we doing all of this?  Why are we putting ourselves through all of this?

These are the questions I have found myself asking. The answer is we needed a fresh start. A chance to give ourselves a real opportunity to heal and live in a place where it is quiet, where we don’t have to worry about landlords and making rent every month, and struggling to pay bills with our limited income. It is a place where we will have a real chance to finally be able to live instead of just trying to survive each day.  With everything with the house, my family has had to really put in the effort to learn how to effectively communicate with each other.  We are learning to be a family again through the process of building our house. 

As frustrated and helpless that I have been feeling lately with everything, I have to remember that we are all together working on this project and we will see this through. There is no turning back now, no running away from problems. We have to face these problems head on, hand-in-hand, supporting each other through it all.  

Surviving means to “continue to live or exist, especially in spite of danger or hardship”. We have survived this long and I plan to continue enduring our frustrating situation until such time as it begins to improve.  My family has been through so much in a relatively short time, one thing after another after another after another.  We have survived this far and we will continue to persevere.  I am waiting for the day when I can start to live my life, to feel that I am actually thriving, and not feel so burned out all the time.

To me, as an autistic person, to feel comfortable would be a dream come true. There has only been a few times in my life where I could say I felt comfortable and there times were short lived.

Ah, to feel comfortable . . .

My kids have that wish, too. To feel comfortable in an environment that is not constantly bombarding you with sensory input. To feel comfortable in an environment where your anxiety is not always so high, draining you of energy, and keeping you so tense that you actually start to shake under the stress.  To feel comfortable means having the ability to finally being able to relax.

I am waiting for that day, the day when I can finally relax both my mind and my body in a safe place that is my own amongst my own things with my beloved husband, children, and pets.  

As I have been writing this, I was listening to an album called “The Sound of Rescue” I found it to be very calming music.  I also thought the title was appropriate for how I feel.  Rescue from this frustrating situation is coming and I will part of making that rescue happen.  In this particular case, the only people that will be rescuing us are ourselves.

Rescue yourself

Panic Attacks – A Comprehensive Emotional Nightmare

(Trigger Warning: Discussion about panic attacks and emotional trauma.)

It happened again. I got triggered and the result was a bad panic attack.  Actually, I would say all panic attacks are bad.  The reason I say this last one was particularly bad is because of where I was at the time and who I was with.  I was in public with my family at a festival/carnival in a town that I did not live in. I had no safe place to go, but I knew I had to get out of there, so I told my family I was going to take a moment and I just started walking fast away from everything.  I just kept walking and walking. 

I probably would have ended up in the hills outside of town if I hadn’t set myself down in a secluded spot away from people and the commotion of what was going on in town.  I set myself down, because I could still think semi-rationally.  I realized I had the keys to our van, so I couldn’t just keep walking.  I also realized that the panic attack was winning.  I couldn’t stop it.  I knew that I needed to stop to just let myself cry, so that is what I did.  I sat down in the grass with my back to the world and just let the panic attack over take me. 

The panic attack didn’t just happen out of nothing. There was a very specific reason for it. It wasn’t the environment that triggered the panic attack. I was actually having a fun time with my family exploring the various wares on display at the different tables.  My son had just gone on a carnival ride with his friend and my daughter had just finished a snow cone.  We were laughing, enjoying our family outing.  We were just getting ready to get something to eat when she showed up with no warning.

I don’t know why this person who triggered me felt she needed to come up to my family and me. She had been told to keep a respectful distance from us some time ago. She claimed it was the polite thing to do to come up to us. In most cases, when you see someone you know, it is considered polite to come up and say “hi”, but in this particular case it was just thoughtless and disrespectful behavior on her part. She won’t see this, but I want to say to her, “Stay away from me and my family! Stay away from my husband! Leave us alone so we can heal!”

I have no idea if she is even aware of the amount of psychological and emotional damage that she contributed to. She was the first to contribute to three years of hell for myself and my family.  I have Complex-PTSD and those three years of pain only added to the layers of trauma that I had already acquired. 

My panic attack yesterday left me feeling in a way that I am having trouble describing. Drained, depressed, embarrassed, still full of anxiety, sick to my stomach, headachy, dizzy, fearful, teary-eyed, emotionally sensitive, brain-fog, internally numb, out-of-control, remorseful, disconnected, disassociated, the list goes on.

A panic attack can only be described as a comprehensive emotional nightmare.

“A panic attack typically lasts several long minutes and is one of the most distressing conditions a person can experience. In some cases, panic attacks have been known to last for longer periods of time or to recur very quickly over and over again.

The aftermath of a panic attack is very painful. Feelings of depression and helplessness are usually experienced. The greatest fear is that the panic attack will come back again and again, making life too miserable to bear.

Panic is not necessarily brought on by a recognizable circumstance, and it may remain a mystery to the person involved. These attacks come “out of the blue”. At other times, excessive stress or other negative life conditions can trigger an attack.”

Panic attack symptoms can include:

  • rapid heart rate
  • sweating
  • trembling
  • shortness of breath
  • hyperventilation
  • chills
  • hot flashes
  • nausea
  •  abdominal cramping
  • chest pain
  • headache
  • dizziness
  • faintness
  • tightness in your throat
  • trouble swallowing
  • sense of impending death
  • tingling in your hands or feet

“A panic attack takes a very powerful emotional toll on the person affected. In addition to the overwhelming sense of fear in that is its primary symptom, the person can also be subject to more tangible symptoms associated with the fear of physical loss of control, perceived heart attack or even possible death. The realness, immediacy and overwhelming intensity of her feelings during these moments of helplessness and desperation cannot be overemphasized.”

For me, when a panic attack is triggered, it stems from prolonged emotional trauma. We need to remember that stress can trigger a panic attack. You do not have to have endured an emotional trauma to experience a panic attack.  We also need to realize that trauma is stress that has run amuck. There is a difference between routine stress and emotional and psychological trauma.

According to Emotional and Psychological Trauma: Causes and Effects, Symptoms and Treatment,

“Stress dis-regulates our nervous systems – but for only a relatively short period of time. Within a few days or weeks, our nervous systems calm down and we revert to a normal state of equilibrium. This return to normalcy is not the case when we have been traumatized. One way to tell the difference between stress and emotional trauma is by looking at the outcome – how much residual effect an upsetting event is having on our lives, relationships, and overall functioning. Traumatic distress can be distinguished from routine stress by assessing the following:

  • how quickly upset is triggered
  • how frequently upset is triggered
  • how intensely threatening the source of upset is
  • how long upset lasts
  • how long it takes to calm down

If we can communicate our distress to people who care about us and can respond adequately, and if we return to a state of equilibrium following a stressful event, we are in the realm of stress. If we become frozen in a state of active emotional intensity, we are experiencing an emotional trauma – even though sometimes we may not be consciously aware of the level of distress we are experiencing.”

How do you deal with all of this, how do you cope? First thing to remember when experiencing a panic attack is that you will survive even though it may feel like the world is ending, you can’t breathe, and your chest feels like it is going to explode.  Anxiety BC put together helpful strategies to help you get through a panic attack.  The tool box starts on page three and these strategies are also helpful for people who are witnessing another person having a panic attack.

Some of the strategies that Anxiety BC listed that I often use include:

1.  Calm Breathing: This is a strategy that you can use to help reduce some of the physical symptoms experienced during a panic attack. We tend to breathe faster when we are anxious, which can make us feel dizzy and lightheaded, which in turn can make us even more anxious. Calm breathing involves taking slow, regular breaths through your nose. However, it is important to realize that the goal of calm breathing is not to stop a panic attack because it’s dangerous, but to make it a little easier to “ride out” the feelings.

For more information, see How to do Calm Breathing.

KEY POINT: If you are using relaxation to help you STOP a panic attack, this is NOT helpful. If you are using relaxation to help you turn down the volume on the feelings (but not avoid them) this IS helpful!

2.  Muscle Relaxation: Another helpful strategy involves learning to relax your body. This technique involves tensing various muscles and then relaxing them, to help lower overall tension and stress levels, which can contribute to panic attacks.

 For more information, see How To Do Progressive Muscle Relaxation.

 Things you should NOT say or do while a person is experiencing a panic attack:

 DON’T:

  • tell them to calm down.
  • get angry with them.
  • yell at them.
  • tell them to get over it.
  • tell them they are being ridiculous.
  • freak out.

Things you SHOULD say or do while a person is experiencing a panic attack:

 DO:

  • Tell them they are safe. Repeatedly.
  • Tell them you are there for them.
  • Tell them they are not alone.
  • Remind them to breathe.
  • Take deep breaths with them.
  • Listen to what they need. Offer choices if they can’t tell you what they need.
  • Hold them if they need you too. Keep a respectful distance if they don’t.

The rate a person recovers from a panic attack, or trauma for that matter, really matters on those around them. Don’t try to put the person back into the fire if they have just calmed down.  There is an aftermath of a panic attack that has to be gone through.  Putting a person right back into a situation that triggered them in the first place will most likely just trigger another panic attack.  Healing takes time and it is different for everyone.  Understanding and patience are necessary in this situation.

 According to Ellen McGrath in Recovering from Trauma,

 “Not everyone who endures a traumatic experience is scarred by it; the human psyche has a tremendous capacity for recovery and even growth. Recovering from a traumatic experience requires that the painful emotions be thoroughly processed. Trauma feelings can not be repressed or forgotten. If they are not dealt with directly, the distressing feelings and troubling events replay over and over in the course of a lifetime, creating a condition known as post-traumatic stress disorder.

 Whatever inner resources people need to mobilize for recovery, they still can not accomplish the task alone. Depression and trauma are disconnective disorders. They do not improve in isolation. To fix them you have to be connected to others.”

My husband did the right thing yesterday. He didn’t get mad at me, he made sure I was safe by texting me, and he stayed with our children and made sure they were alright.  I had wished he could have been with me to help me remember to breathe, but I needed to protect our children first.  They did not need to see their mother falling apart like I was.

When we all reunited, my husband told me that he felt what that person did was thoughtless and that he was not impressed which was affirmation to me that he understood why I was triggered.  He also got us all home, got the kids settled, and then took me out for some medicinal nachos and respectful and supportive talking.  None of this on his part would have happened four years ago.  This is how much we grown as a couple after three years of hell.

PTSD sucks. Anxiety sucks.  Panic attacks sucks. Depression sucks.  Having supportive people that you can turn too makes all the difference.  I didn’t have that for so long, but now I do. There is still a lot of healing and processing that needs to take place, but we will get there, together, as a family.  This is the journey we are on now, a journey that will lead to healing for all of us. The road is going to be bumpy, with hiccups here and there, and occasionally sliding backwards, but we are all in it together to offer a helping hand, a shoulder to cry on, and warm arms to feel safe in.

ohana-family-quote-glitch-dailyinspired

quotesgram.com

 

 

** Image linked to source.

An Awakening

My son is thirteen years old and he just finished 8th grade.  He has proclaimed for years that writing is his nemesis. He is autistic and has been diagnosed with two writing disabilities, dysgraphia and a written expression disability.  He is highly verbal.  So much so, in fact, that his brain often times goes faster than his mouth and he ends up talking so fast while clenching his jaw that people have a hard time understanding him.

He sees such wonder and beauty in the world and is a total knowledge junkie like me.  He saw the ocean for the first time when he was seven years old and the way he describe what he saw was pure poetry, such detail and emotion wrapped up in wording that is not typically used by a seven year old.  He didn’t realize that he had described the scene before him with such beauty. He was so overwhelmed with awe that the words just came out of him. He still doesn’t believe me when I tell him the story of that first trip to the Pacific Ocean. He continued to express himself in poetic terms when describing new experiences, but he never clued into what he was doing.

My son struggles a lot with self-esteem when it comes to producing written material.  Reading and speaking come easy to him. Science, math, history are all subjects he enjoys, but when it comes to writing, he wants nothing to do with it. He explained to me as I was writing this blog, “I want to run away from writing. In fifth grade I didn’t even want to acknowledge that writing existed.”

The thing is, writing is necessary. It is everywhere in everyday life.  It is essential to learning and it is an essential job skill.   Writing skills are an important part of communication.  If writing is so important, what do you do when it is incredibly difficult to get your thoughts down in written form?  What do you do when you don’t have access to a keyboard and your hand doesn’t want to cooperate in forming letters with a pencil?  This is what my son has struggled with all his life. In most cases he has avoided writing when ever possible. Then came the option of typing, which he also struggled with, but has greatly improved upon with ongoing practice. The schools where he attended before also would not address his writing difficulties. With the help of a special education tutor these last few years, my son has really blossomed in being able to articulate his thoughts in the form of writing on the computer. 

My son has been homeschooled full-time these last two years. In the state we live in, students are required to show proficiency in interpretation of other people’s writings.  Interpretation can be difficult to someone who is autistic, particularly due to many who think in literal terms. My son is no exception. My son’s tutor recommended poetry to him as a way to try to practice slowing down when speaking to people. He was to start reading it out loud, but he did not feel comfortable doing that.  What I ended up doing instead this last quarter of the school year was help my son learn how to interpret other people’s writing by completing three poetry analyses and then having him write he own poems in any form that he wanted.

He has definitely struggled with this project.  The first poem he tackled was “The Road Not Taken”, by Robert FrostMy son is very literal and this first poem caused a lot of difficulties for him.  What we decided to focus on was helping him understand what a metaphor is.  The second poem he tackled was “A Bird, came down the Walk”, by Emily DickinsonThis poem was a little easier for my son to analyze, but he still had some trouble trying to figure out the meaning behind the poem was.  The third and last poem he analyzed was “The Raven”, by Edgar Allan Poe. This analysis came easy to my son.  He connected with the poem.  He knew right away what the poem was about, which is depression.  Unfortunately, my son is very familiar with depression.  He was diagnosed with depression when he was six years old. In fact, it was his depression that lead him to a counselor that began questioning if he was also autistic.  This questioning lead him to finally being diagnosed with Autism along with various anxiety disorders. 

With this poetry project, My son has become much better at interpreting other people’s writing, but I am also sadden that the poem he connected with was a poem about depression. This whole project has been an eye opener to both my son and I, a kind of an awakening. Again, I saw this ability in my son that still hadn’t been really tapped and brought out into awareness.  It seemed the right environment, a little prodding, and LOTS of encouragement was what was needed. My son learned that he could express himself in ways he hadn’t really consciously explored before. He still doesn’t think he is very good at writing poetry, but I reminded him that he is just starting.  It takes practice and patience to develop a skill.  

The last part of the project was for my son to write his own poems.  He has graciously allowed me to publish them here.  Again, he had so much trepidation about writing these poems. He felt it was something that he really couldn’t do very well and this thinking he had about his ability as a writer really bothered him.  He worked very hard on his metaphors. He really wants people to understand what he is trying to express in his poems.  He wrote them all on his own.  He had no help from his tutor and only a little advice from me on ways to structure a poem All the words are his.  All the imagery is his.  All the metaphors are his. I hope you enjoy.


Poem #1 – Written on June 2, 2016

The Unknown

The unknown, a place of festering dreams, ambitions, and fear.

A place some never dare see.

Some throw themselves into the fog of war, to fall into fire.

There are those who sidestep the smoke to never move at all.

Even the armed can be flatted if they sway.

Some spot greatness beyond the fog, but do not cross, they do not change.

Those who do become colossus.

A well-chosen path can turn an infant into a giant.

Traverse the unknown and find greatness.


Poem # 2 – Written June 8, 2016

Britannia’s Call Against Rome

Against the red flood, against the force of extinction!

They think us barbaric; think us monsters, even though genocide is their trade!

Their discord is they bring prosperity.

In which twisted life is loss of identity a paradise?

Their accursed banners have reached our shores.

We shall stop our quarrels to stop these invaders.

If we do not, we will fall into their maws!