Category Archives: Living

Dating While Autistic and in My 40s

“The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.”     – Carl Jung

Yes, autistic people have partners and have children. Autistic people can and do get married. Being autistic does not mean a person won’t have romantic connections with other people.  Some autistic people find it easy to be in romantic relationships and some might struggle.  Struggling in relationships is not solely restricted to autistic people. Lots of people with different neurologies have relationship struggles.  Being autistic and/or having autistic children DOES NOT increase the chances of divorce.  This is a misconception that just won’t die.  The myth is that the divorce rate in families with autism is 80%. This is not true!  The myth has been debunked!

Under a Looking Glass: What’s the truth about Autism and Marriage?

Researchers in Baltimore investigated the supposed 80 percent divorce rate for parents of a child with autism spectrum disorder (ASD). Unlike other studies, this one was particularly large – using data from almost 78,000 parents, 913 of whom had a child with autism – and included families from across the United States. The bigger the study, the less likely the results are due to chance or something unique about the pool of people studied. The researchers, from Kennedy Krieger Institute and Johns Hopkins University, found no evidence of an 80 percent divorce rate.

In fact, parents of children with autism split up as often as parents of children who don’t have autism, according to their research. In this study, about two-thirds of the children lived with their two biological or adoptive parents. That was true whether the children had autism or not. The severity of a child’s autism symptoms had no effect on the likelihood that parents would go their separate ways.

I am autistic, and, yes, I was once married. My divorce was not caused by my neurology nor was it caused by the neurology of my children.  I was in an abusive marriage, which I have written a lot about.  My ex has tried to blame my neurology as to why he did the things he did, but it really came down to him using projection and refusing to take responsibility for his actions.

Here is a list of a few of my previous posts about my abusive marriage:

Now that I got that out of the way, I want to address a different topic – dating. The last time I was dating anyone was when I was in my twenties.  Dating in the mid to late 90s was very different compared to today.  For one thing, there was no social media yet.  According to the Complete History of Social Media: Then And Now, the first recognizable social media site, Six Degrees, was created in 1997. It enabled users to upload a profile and make friends with other users. In 1999, the first blogging sites became popular.  I didn’t even know this until just now when I looked it up. This wasn’t a platform I had access to.  I didn’t have a cell phone until after my daughter was born, which would have been in early 2001.  Texting was still in its infancy at this point.  There was no YouTube, or SnapChat, or Facebook.  There was no Twitter, or Instagram, or Tumblr. Myspace wasn’t even around yet.  The World Wide Web became available in 1991, but to access it you had to dial into it through the phone line. There were no dating apps.  No one used the word “apps”.  Meeting and staying connected to people was very different when I was in my 20s.  A person had to either be “fixed up” with someone by a third party or you had to meet a person somewhere and talk to them face-to-face and decide if you want to see this person again.  I know, weird, right?

Here we are in the year 2019 and I am now in my 40s. I am a single mom to two older teenagers.  I hadn’t had much dating experience prior to being married and for much of my adult life I had been in a toxic, abusive situation that resulted in me developing Complex-PTSD as well as both my children developing symptoms of PTSD.  My ex left seven years ago and the divorce officially happened five years ago.  Seven years is a long time. On average, a person in an abusive relationship will attempt to leave 7 times before finally leaving for good.  I was no different.  I was trauma bonded to my ex and a trauma bond is very difficult to break. My ex came back after the first three years.   It didn’t last, because after a while he fell back into his abusive behavior patterns.  I hadn’t dated anyone that whole seven years, that is, until now.

Let me tell you, dating in your 40s with children is weird! Dating as an autistic woman with Complex-PTSD makes it so much more difficult and scary. It is a whole different landscape these days, and, luckily, my counselor has been helping navigate.  My children have been providing a lot of encouragement as well.  Yes, my two autistic teenagers who have never dated anyone are helping their mother figure out how to date in this modern age.

When I first entered the dating realm in my 20s, I didn’t know I was autistic. I didn’t know that I was developmentally delayed.  I didn’t understand my sensory needs.  I hadn’t been exposed to what a healthy relationship was like.  I knew I didn’t want to get married until after I finished college, but I did date.  Having children was also very important to me.  My biological clock went off long before I was ready to get married.  What ended up happening was that I married what I knew.  The skills I had acquired growing up prepared me to live in a toxic marriage. 

I knew how to navigate a situation like that. I knew how to survive.  My adaptive skills that I had acquired growing up as an undiagnosed autistic child served me well.  It got me to where I am today.  Those skills kept me alive, but I didn’t know how to live.  I am very good at surviving, but I found myself at a loss when it came to actually living my life without being in a constant state of fight/flight/freeze/fawn. 

I needed to unlearn my old adaptive skills first before I could relearn new healthier adaptive skills that would allow me to successfully be in a healthy relationship. This process of unlearning and relearning takes time and it is not necessarily a smooth transition, especially since it requires a person to process layers of trauma that caused the old adaptive skills to develop in the first place.  This process left me in a sort of grey zone of not knowing what to do or expect when I finally did meet a man I wanted to date.

This void, if you will, is very anxiety provoking. As an autistic person, I need routine and predictability.  Even if it was toxic, I knew how to navigate in my old life.  That old life was “home” to me, but I didn’t want that “home” anymore.  I wanted to know what it was like to be in a healthy relationship.  That required change and change is scary, particularly for an autistic person.  I couldn’t make the change happened without help.  The hurdle was too large for me to get over without assistance.  That is why I went back into counseling after 12 years when I was first diagnosed with PTSD.

During the time I have been in trauma therapy and unlearning and relearning adaptive skills, I joined a dating app. My counselor encouraged me and I felt it was time.  This dating app matched me with a gentleman that I probably would never have met on my own.  Different towns, different school districts, but we have so much in common.  We started chatting through the app.  Then we decided to meet. That was over two months ago and our relationship has steadily progressed in a positive direction since.  I am in my 40s and I officially have a boyfriend.  For the first time in my dating life I feel genuinely loved for the person I am, my true autistic self.  I feel accepted and seen as a person, not just seen as some extension of another person to be used as they saw fit.  It is an amazing feeling, but I still struggle with trust.  This struggle comes from being a domestic abuse survivor.  I am working on learning how to trust again, taking things slow, and enjoying every moment of it.

I don’t know what the future holds for me. I don’t know what this new experience will New Beginningslead to, but I am grateful for this new man in my life. Not only is his showing me what being in a healthy relationship is like, he is also showing my children that there are good men out there, good fathers out there who do actually emotionally support their children and provide for them without being asked to. 

My children’s negative memories about their father will never go away, but my hope is that this new experience can help build more positive memories for them. My children like this new man in my life. They like how he treats me. They have both told me that they don’t feel like they are walking around on eggs shells with this new man like they feel around their father.  There haven’t been any red flags or warning signs that this new guy is a danger either.

My children haven’t seen their father in over a year and a half. They don’t speak to him. At this point, their father still represents a danger.  He caused so much damage, but tries to pretend like everything is fine and everything is “normal”.  This situation is not fine nor is it “normal” in anyway.  This is one of the big reasons why it took me so long to get back into the dating scene.  I didn’t feel safe.  I didn’t know how to trust again.  This new man in my life has been showing me, little by little, that I can trust again.  It is a rarity for me to be able to relax around other people.  I find myself relaxing with him.  I feel better within myself and I like who I am when I am with him.  He makes me feel pretty without doing anything.  I had to learn that this is what it feels like to be respected by a romantic partner. 

He doesn’t push me into things. He is patient and understanding. He shows compassion and is empathetic. He is considerate of my needs and wants to learn about my neurology. He has even asked about words he should and should not use.  This is incredible to me.  I have not experienced this type of situation before.  He sees who I am and wants to learn more so that he can be more supportive!

I feel like a teenager again learning how to do all this romantic stuff all over again. It is confusing at times and other times it feels natural.  I am a 44 year old autistic woman learning how to date again in the modern age.  It is fun and thrilling and scary and tiring all at once.  Thanks to the development of social media and dating apps, I have been able to experience romantic love at a level that I never have before, a healthy, respected love.  Autistic people love, they have relationships, they have romantic partners, and they do get married and have children.  This process might look different from the societal norms of today. It might be slower, there might be more confusion, more heartache, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen.  

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A Productive Rant

Privilege, Societal Barriers, the Roll of the Genetic Dice, and the Choices We Make in Life

Rolling Dice

There are days that I find myself wanting to claw at the walls and people’s faces. Some days I feel like I am suffocating, being smothered by everything. Other days I am so fatigued that I find it hard to breath. I feel that I have to fight my muscles just to keep breathing. It is not one thing that is causing this. It is never one thing.

I realize some people would view this as me whining, that I should just be content that I even have a job at all and that I have a roof over my head. I even think I am whining. Don’t get me wrong, I am very grateful, but there comes a time when there is just too much that has been going on for too long.

Why do my kids and I continually struggle when others don’t? It really has to do with privilege, societal barriers, the roll of the genetic dice, and the choices we make in life

I chose to marry a man that turned out to be emotionally abusive and then abruptly abandoned us.  Did I know he was going to become abusive? No, not in any way.  Everyone liked him. I felt I had known him all my life. The choices he has made has caused a lifelong impact on myself and our children.   

I chose to go to college and become a teacher, something I wanted to become since I was seven years old.  I was born to be a teacher. Unfortunately, the society that I live in does not really look kindly upon teachers or schools for that matter. Lots of negativity, lack of resources, and lack of support.  

Then I chose to go back to graduate school to get my master’s degree, because I had essentially become a dinosaur in my field. I was a long-term science teacher with only a bachelor’s degree.  I needed to make myself more hirable so I could support my children better. That was my thought and when I started my master’s program, we were still a two income household. I knew that, in order to complete my original plan of completing a science education graduate program, I would need the assistance of my husband. He agreed that it was time for me to go back to school and that he would be there to help me.

Our Education System

It wasn’t even two months after I began my program when my husband left. I managed for two years without his help, but due to my learning needs, it became clear that I wasn’t going to be able to finish the program. I was attending an online graduate program from a different state.  The school would only help me if I went to the disability office on campus.  That was going to be impossible, so I decided to transfer to another school. Again, another choice on my part that was due to being put into a position that was not my choice.

I managed to find and get accepted into a different online graduate program from a different state, one that believed in Universal Design for Learning (UDL) standards and supported all students in many different formats. I graduated two years later with a Master’s in Education with a focus in Autism. 

In order to complete my degree, I chose to amass student loan debt, because, in the country I live in, college is very, very expensive.  I do not have the privilege of coming from a well-to-do family that could pay for my college education. I either needed to take out student loans or not get my graduate degree.  Neither my degrees guaranteed me a well-paying job with benefits. There are no guarantees in life. 

I also chose to become a mother, twice.  Did I know that I would have complications? No, there were no indications.  Two months of bed rest with my first child (pre-eclampsia) and four months of bed rest with my second child.  There was no warning that all hell would break loose with my second pregnancy. I was almost paralyzed. I have a beautiful son and a beautiful daughter, but my body never fully recovered after my second pregnancy. I have ongoing medical problems stemming from pregnancy complications and Ehler-Danlos Syndrome. 

I am autistic, I have Ehler-Danlos Syndrome, and I also can’t build up antibodies from vaccines. This is all due to the roll of the genetic dice.  My titer levels show no evidence that I was ever vaccinated even though I received vaccinations multiple times, even in adulthood. So, yay for me.

As a person who must rely on herd immunity to protect myself from preventable diseases, I have no patience for anyone who is an antivaxer or anyone who claims vaccines caused their child’s autism. No patience what so ever.  There is a current measles outbreak happening in my state right now.  I am appalled by the self-righteous ignorance of people. They don’t care and they think they know better.

I am digressing . . .

We moved four times in the last six years. We moved due to financial, family, work, and school reasons. Was all this moving by choice? Yes, it was by choice. It has been six years of just the three of us trying to survive.  You do what you have to do to keep going and sometimes you have to make really hard choices so you don’t end up out on the streets.

This brings me back to privilege.  Why have my children and I had to struggle for so long? 

I did receive food assistance for four years up until it was decided that I made just a little too much money. This is a societal barrier.  The problem is that, sure, I work full-time, but I don’t make a living wage.  The state took away the support I needed to feed my children.  We ration food. That is hard on the body and the mind.

I am grateful for my job. My years of teaching and my master’s degree opened the door for me to be able to work in the non-profit sector where I can help families with children with disabilities navigate the education system.  I pay it forward by helping make the world better for one person/one family at a time.  This job does not pay a whole lot, but it does allow the flexible schedule that I need to be the parent that my children need.  They have weekly medical appointments that requires a lot traveling.

I have also been homeschooling for the last five years. This was not something that we had planned on.  Homeschooling became a necessity so my children could be successful and reach their potential.  My own health needs require that I have a flexible schedule.  There are days that I am unable to leave my bed, and then there are other days that end up being a 10-hour work day. I do understand that having a flexible work schedule that allows me to work the majority of the time from home is a privilege.  

There was a time that I worked three part-time teaching positions while attending graduate school and homeschooling full-time. That lasted for three years. I don’t remember sleeping much, but I made it work. Now that both my children are part of the Home Link program, which is part of the public school system. I have better schooling support for my children and they are thriving in the alternative learning experience that is available here. I do understand that this placement is a privilege and I am grateful for it.

Even though I have find myself in a better employment and schooling situation, I find that my burnout never seems to end. I have been at some level of burnout for at least two decades.  I don’t have a proper word to describe this never-ending burnout. I do have better days, but it is a constant struggle to even move.  Life keeps going so I must keep pushing myself forward, which only drains me further. It is out of sheer determination that I can maintain my daily responsibilities, but more and more things keep getting piled on. So, I remain stoic and keep treading water. Unfortunately, a person can’t tread water indefinitely. This concerns me greatly.

Life shouldn’t be this hard. Yes, I understand that there are people who have it worse than me.  My point isn’t about my situation alone.  My point applies to everyone who has to constantly struggle in a country that is considered a first world nation and a “Leader of the Free World”.

Do you know what the United States is ranked first in?

As of 2015 the U.S.:

  • ranks 1st in prisoners
  • ranks 1st in death by violence
  • ranks 2nd in ignorance
  • ranks 14th in education
  • ranks 22nd in gender equality
  • ranks 44th in health care efficiency

U.S. Has The Worst Rate Of Maternal Deaths In The Developed World

More American women are dying of pregnancy-related complications than any other developed country. Only in the U.S. has the rate of women who die been rising.

Inequality

The US has the highest income inequality of all rich countries.

Poverty

The US has the second-highest rate of poverty among rich countries

According to a 2012 UNICEF study, 23.1% US kids live in poverty. Other studies place the number a little lower, at about 20%, but both numbers are much higher than in other advanced countries. For black and Hispanic American children, the poverty rate is even higher, at 36% and 31%.

Survival BiasI need to ask that people stop telling others that it was their choice for why they ended up in a particular situation. Poverty is a systematic problem; there are societal barriers in place that prevent many from climbing out of poverty. 

For those of us who have been trying everything to make our lives and the lives of their children better, stop dismissing us by saying that we should just be happy and grateful with what we have. No, just no. 

 

“Every inspirational speech by someone successful should have to start with a disclaimer about survivorship bias.” – xkcd comics

No one should be expected to be happy when they are struggling day in and day out.  For those who keep saying that such and such worked for you, stop!! That is survival bias, otherwise known as bootstrap mentality.

I need people to stop telling others that happiness is a choice. You are not helping Happiness is not choiceanyone. Happiness is not a choice!!  Stop telling people with mental illness and/or disability that all they need to do is choose to be happy.

For many years now I have been focusing on living in the moment, to find happiness in the moment, because my life has been very stressful despite everything I have tried to do to fix the situation. This has been going on for so long that I found myself becoming really irritable.  I had to allow myself to dive into the root cause of this ongoing irritability.  I came to the realization that I am not happy.  Even those moments that I focus on are no longer enough for me to find joy in life. My irritability has been coming from me not wanting to accept that I am not happy. I was being stubborn and didn’t want to face reality.  This brings me to the next part of this productive rant.

Both my children have been described as having anhedonia. I have found that I also have it.

What is anhedonia? To put it simply, it means the absence of joy.

The clinical definition is “Anhedonia, a term first used by Ribot in 1896, is a diminished capacity to experience pleasure. It describes the lack of interest and the withdrawal from all usual pleasant activities. Chapman et al.  defined two different types of hedonic deficit: physical anhedonia and social anhedonia. Physical anhedonia represents an inability to feel physical pleasures (such as eating, touching and sex). Social anhedonia describes an incapacity to experience interpersonal pleasure (such as being and talking to others).”  

So, what’s the point?

What is the point if you find no joy in life?

Unfortunately, I don’t have an answer to this question.

My resilience has gotten me this far. I am not the type to give up. I am a survivor.  I know that I am going to keep on moving forward.  That is who I am.  I keep swimming. 

But, I am so tired . . .

I worry about my children. I find myself crying at night, because I am afraid that my health will continue to decline so badly that I will become a burden on them.  I don’t want that. I cry at night, because I don’t know if my health will let me go back to teaching full-time in the classroom and I know that once the child support stops in 2021, my income will drop significantly. I cry at night because I wish for a better life for my children.  They did not deserve the crappy deal they got with their emotionally abusive father. I cry at night, because I don’t know what it feels like to be in a healthy, supportive, romantic relationship and I have no idea if I will ever know. It has been six years and I haven’t even started dating anyone else and that is not due for the lack of wanting to start. Just trying to survive takes precedence over dating.  I cry at night, because of my stoicism. I do not have the ability to turn it off, and even if I did, I need to remain strong for my children. They know I struggle and they worry. They don’t need the stress of seeing their mother crying. 

I am so tired . . . but, I keep swimming.

I will keep treading water for as long as I can.

I am in this place, because of privilege, societal barriers, the roll of the genetic dice, and the choices I made in life as well as the choices other people in my life made. Choices have a ripple effect not only in your life, but in the lives of others.

I ask that when you make a choice, please be mindful of the impact it will have on those around you. Even if your intent does not come from a place of malice, it is the impact that counts. The impact always carries more weight than the intent.

Intent Versus Impact: When Making a Difference Doesn’t | Miriam Barnett | TEDxTacoma – VIDEO

 

(Image sources linked to images. I do not own any of the images.)

 

To Those Who Still Don’t Understand

(Content Warning: medical problems, references to death, suicide, murder)

I came across an article by Sarah Kurchak today, entitled To Neurotypicals On My 36th Birthday and it really resonated where my thoughts have been lately.  I commented on the article, but I felt I needed to expand my comment.

I have tried to live a healthy life style all my life.  I don’t drink alcohol, I don’t smoke, I don’t do recreational drugs, I try to eat right, and I am I runner.  Unfortunately, the statistics are not on my side.  Due to my genetics, my life expectancy has been shortened. 

As the aforementioned article states, the ages for the life expectancy of autistics vary a bit, but the statistics point to an uncomfortable reality.  Autistic life spans are shorter than typical life spans.  A study out of Sweden completed late in 2015, entitled Premature mortality in autism spectrum disorder, revealed that people with autism died an average of 16 years earlier than those who do not have autism.  There are other studies out there that support the Swedish study findings. 

Why is it this way?  Why do autistics seem to die younger than those who are not autistic?

Previous studies had shown that 30 percent to 50 percent of people with ASD have considered suicide at some point in their lives.  Bullying, anxiety, depression, feelings of isolation and alienation all contribute to this.  There is a high cost trying to cope in a world that is not designed for you nor is accepting of you.

Then there are the co-existing conditions that seem to be common to people with autism. Chronic health problems can shorten a person’s life span.  Epilepsy, Elhers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), gastrointestinal problems, sensory overload, and lots of stress related illnesses, which can lead to physical ailments, including heart disease, brain inflammation, strokes, and diabetes – these seem to be common occurrences in the lives of autistic people.  

I was diagnosed when I was 36 years old. This is the same age that the article is focusing on, the same age that the researchers CNN cites say is the average age that people like me die. 

I am a teacher and have been for almost 20 years. During the 2011-2012 school year, the same year I was diagnosed, my doctor told me that my stress was actually killing me. This is why I don’t have a classroom of my own anymore. I was very fortunate to be able to find employment where I can work predominately from home, but still keeps me in the education field. I don’t know if I will ever be able to return to the classroom on a regular daily basis.

Due to EDS, my body has been falling apart all my life. I have been a runner for 24 years. It has kept me out of a wheel chair. I had to stop backpacking and weight lifting long ago. I have had to garden in pots for years now (doctors’ orders). I am not even supposed to push a grocery cart anymore, because the right side of my diaphragm is no longer securely attached.

I don’t know how much longer my body and mind can take. Stress can literally kill you. I am so tired. I do know that whenever I just what to collapse, my body won’t. It has got a lot of fight in it still, though. When everything went to hell at 21 weeks when I was pregnant with my son, my body gave everything it had to keep him alive. He was born healthy and to term. That was 15 years ago and my body has never fully recovered. I am still bleeding internally with significant nerve and tissue damage.

I am 42 years old now and I don’t know how much longer I have. So, I will just keep carrying on the best I can with the time I have.

Looking through my old writings, I see that this carry-on-attitude is found all over.  I mean, what else can I do, but to keep moving forward? I am a single mom for two teenagers.  I don’t feel there is much choice in the matter.  The only other option that I see is giving up and dying.  My resilience is too strong, which I explain in “Strengths of Autism – Resilience”.  My body won’t let me give up, so I keep going. 

In The Hidden Meaning Behind “I’m Tired”,  I explain that the phrase “I’m tired” is just a cover for a long story of struggle, confusion, stress, frustration, pain, and exhaustion.  I am always tired.  It never seems to go away and it has only gotten worse as I have gotten older.

In September 2017, I came across this meme with a quote by Dr. Shana Nichols:

Females with ASD“Females with ASDs often develop ‘coping mechanisms’ that can cover up the intrinsic difficulties they experience. They may mimic their peers, watch from the sidelines, use their intellect to figure out the best ways to remain undetected, and they will study, practice, and learn appropriate approaches to social situations. Sounds easy enough, but in fact these strategies take a lot of work and can more often than not lead to exhaustion, withdrawal, anxiety, selective mutism, and depression. -Dr. Shana Nichols”

How long can a body maintain a perpetual cycle of burnout, stress, and pain? 

I really don’t know. 

Something my children’s psychiatrist told us this past week:

ARC – Autistic Renewal Cycle

ABC – Autistic Burnout Cycle

They need to acknowledge ABC, but focus on ARC. Both are in ABC right now. As a family, we need to find ways to break the ABC using ARC.

I have struggled with ABC for so long. Every year I would find myself in some level of autistic burnout. I need to break the cycle, too.

What the ARC looks like depends on the individual. Basically, an individual needs to be encouraged and provided opportunities to do activities that fuel them, that give back emotional currency.

Being stuck in ABC can potentially shorten a person’s life.  The cycle must be broken, but that is not a easy thing to do.  How does one fuel their emotional currency?

Personally, I feel it has a lot to do with acceptance.  I feel acceptance is the greatest gift you can give to a person. 

According to Rick Hanson Ph.D.:

“Accepting people does not itself mean agreeing with them, approving of them, waiving your own rights, or downplaying their impact upon you. You can still take appropriate actions to protect or support yourself or others. Or you can simply let people be. Either way, you accept the reality of the other person. You may not like it, you may not prefer it, you may feel sad or angry about it, but at a deeper level, you are at peace with it. That alone is a blessing. And sometimes, your shift to acceptance can help things get better.”

Acceptance is an action and it requires work.  Kassiane S. explains this concept beautifully in Acceptance vs. Awareness:

“Acceptance comes from a place of understanding.  Understanding isn’t generated by soundbites and posterchildren. Understanding takes work. To accept us, people first need to acknowledge us as individuals-as three dimensional, growing, developed characters. We are not all the same, and we are not but a collection of deficits. Acceptance is seeing that-and seeing that one’s distaste for an autistic person is more likely than not because of “autism”. Awareness tells you that anything objectionable about us is “autism”, but that explanation is clear, simple, and wrong.

Acceptance requires facing that which makes you uncomfortable about us, thinking about why it makes you uncomfortable, and confronting any prejudice at the root of that discomfort. To accept us is to make a conscious effort to overcome that prejudice, to recognize that your discomfort with our differences is far more your problem to overcome than ours.”

In Accept Them As They Are, Dr. Hanson continues to explain how you find acceptance:

“Consider how you have gotten tangled up with this other person, struggling to change them. When I do this myself, I become aware of my own rightness, positionality, judgments, pushiness, irritability, narrow views, hurts, longings, grievances, or remorse. See if you can let go of some, even all of these entanglements. Open to the easing, relief, and peace that can come when you do.

Also consider how much you like it when you feel that another person accepts you completely. It’s a beautiful gift – and we can give it ourselves to others when we accept them. Imagine how it might improve your relationship with someone if that person felt you accepted him or her fully. Acceptance is a gift that gives back.”

I am so very tired of fighting just to survive. I explained this in So, how does it feel to actually live your life as opposed to just surviving?  I chose years ago to live in the moment, because I don’t know how any moments I have left. 

When people want to push the idea that there is a supposed autism epidemic (there isn’t), I have found the question that will inevitably come up is, “If there is no epidemic, then where are all the autistic adults?”

Autistic adults are there and have been there since there have been people.  From what I have learned, autistic adults seem to disappear either by choice or design.  As they age, they either remove themselves from society to get away from the unrelenting life killing stress or they die at a much younger age than non-autistic adults.  The question really should be, “If autistic adults have always been there, then why are you not seeing us?”  

In closing, I would like to reiterate what Sarah Kurchak stated in her article about what to do if you want to help and add a few words of my own.

  • Listen to us.
  • Believe in us.
  • Let us be our authentic autistic selves.
  • Invest in our work.
  • Invest in science and actions that actually make our lives better now instead of chasing a hypothetical cure.
  • Meet us halfway, we can’t do all the work to conform to your world. Compromises need to be made and bridges need to be built. Help us build that bridge.
  • Tell us you accept us and mean it!
  • Tell us we don’t bore you.
  • Tell us we don’t drain you.
  • Tell us we are not broken.
  • Tell us we are not a burden.
  • And above all, don’t kill us.

So, how does it feel to actually live your life as opposed to just surviving?      

Have you ever been struggling for so damn long, then find yourself in a situation where things are working out, but your anxiety has gotten you on guard waiting for the possibility of the rug of life to be pulled out from under you again?

Ya, I am there. It sucks the feeling of relief right out of you. It is really annoying. I keep telling myself that I am in a good place right now, that everything I have been working toward professionally all these years is finally starting to materialize and it is not literally killing me in the process, but my damn brain won’t settle.

There are many reasons why I no longer have my own classroom anymore. Due to my physical health, I don’t know if I ever will be able return to a regular classroom teaching position. After nearly 20 years as a teacher, I miss being in a classroom, but my current job is allowing me to stay in the education field and apply my experience and training in a different way by helping one family at a time. I am paying it forward, you might say.

I am still grieving in my personal life. I have been grieving for years. It feels like forever. It is called Complex-PTSD. Even 15 years after my initial diagnosis, the pain is still there.  I have better coping skills now, but it is still hard. These days there are more good days than bad days.

Too much trauma and loss in my life, I suppose. I have been struggling so long just to survive, and be both mom and dad as well as teacher to my children, that I guess I am not sure how to live.

After everything that has happened to me, I have really struggled to convince myself that I have worth. I remind myself constantly. I have worth. I know I have worth.

*Deep breath.*

*Start again.*

I have value. I am worth it. I will not give up!

*Punches chest.*

I am a real person with real needs and dreams. I will not be silenced!

Not again . . .

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Looking at Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, I have been at the bottom two levels for many years now.

So, how does it feel to actually live your life as opposed to just surviving?  

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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

Finding the Words . . . .

It is almost 2AM and once again I cannot sleep.  I do not understand.  Why won’t my body let me sleep? I am tired. I am tired of not being heard.

Tired_20-year-old_cat

Wikipedia:Tired

I am tired of not being accepted. I am tired of not being understood. I am tired of not being wanted. I am tired of my deficits only being seen and my strengths being ignored. I am tired of hurting, both mentally and physically. I am tired, but my body will not let me sleep.

I don’t know . . . I don’t know the words. I can’t find them. I need to explain how I feel, but the words won’t come. Why am I not wanted, why am I not seen? I am good at what I do and I am true to who I am. But I am not seen, not the real me. The one who sees the magic and beauty in how the morning sunlight glistens off dew on a spider web. The one who feels so much joy when a flower bud is about to open. The one who gazes upon the stars and is blow away by the wonders of it all.

Forestwander.com

Forestwander.com

The one who still believes in being honorable and having integrity. The one who still struggles with things that most people don’t even think about and don’t understand when I ask for help. This is me.

I just want to be seen. Not ignored. Not disregarded.  Not blown off.  Not made to feel guilty or ashamed of how I am or how I feel.

My heart is real. What I feel is real. I am here.  I have always been here. I have survived through so much and will continue to do so. They haven’t destroyed me yet. I will keep on fighting. But right now I feel like a wilted and crushed flower. There for all to see, but ignored and discarded.

Dead_flowers,_Pére_Lachaise_Cemetery

File:Flickr – Whiternoise – Dead flowers, Pére Lachaise Cemetery.jpg

What do I do?   What can I do?   I need to find a way to mend my damaged petals and continue on. I need to find the sun and let my spirit dance on the sun beams. I need to find a rainbow and let the colors play across my skin.

My journey is not complete. The sun is still calling to me, that beautiful star that fuels life on this amazing blue marble that we live on. Through everything that is ugly and full of pain, there is still beauty and wonder out there. I still believe in that.

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File:Full Sunburst over Earth.JPG

 “Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have – life itself.”

― Walter Anderson

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.”

― Ralph Waldo Emerson