Incest Survivor Art by ammurphy

I Know...

Still in Meltdown Mode, Stress and Trust

I can tell that I am still in meltdown mode. I could cry at any moment. Sometimes I feel this way from my Dissociative Identity Disorder, but at this moment, I am quite sure it is an autistic stress response. Too many stressors this week; my LittleGuys concussion recovery, dealing with teachers at his school, being/worrying about him 24 hours a day; the altercation at his therapists; the persistent, nagging cold that makes me feel very tired and extraordinarily crabby; no Therapist for me this week; scant moments of alone time. Sigh. Some weeks are just like this. I'm sure to feel better once LittleGuys health returns:)
 It is so easy for me to see and feel his head injury. I can see it in his eyes. And I sense a gray fog around his head, at times. This..unwellness...Has improved, over the week, but it returned with a vengance after I let him back to school, yesterday. I went to school, at lunch time, to visually check him out. In the hallway, I asked him how he felt. At first he was all smiles, "I'm fine, I'm fine."  As I touched his hand, his smile fell, then I could see it in his eyes. He was exhausted, frustrated. He almost cried. I packed his things.
 His teacher walked by and asked if I was taking him home. She asked if he was only going to do half-days. I explained to her that it depended solely on how he felt. She Does Not understand what a concussion is! She is not the authority here, I am. I understand the severity of my sons injury. I can see how his brain is affected. Teacher has no clue. She wants him back in school. She wants his unfinished homework completed. She doesn't get it.
 Then there is me, with my overly high respect for authority. Argh. It's so easy for me to bow to the wants of anyone in authority.  I Have to Remember....I Have to Learn to Trust Myself....I Have to Believe what I feel and see in My son! It's so clear. Like looking at writing on a piece of paper, that his head hurts, that his brain isn't back to normal. I need to Honor my senses and do my utmost to ensure his full and complete recovery! I cannot bow to "authority figures" dense and harmful "pressures". I need to believe me. I need to learn to trust Me first. There is no ambivalence here. I can sense his unwellness. He Is improving, I see that too. My voice needs to get stronger, to protect my LittleGuy.
 I've made other positive changes. I will no longer accompany LittleGuy to his therapy. (Yes, as a mom, I'm kinda devastated that I can't take my son to therapy because I get hurt) Partner will take him. I'd never cried/ broke down in front of this person before. Too embarrassed and vulnerable to see her again.

 The house is more alive with more people running around. Gotta go

My face rarely betrays me

How I feel...leaks, seamlessly onto my face. Turn to plaster, alabaster.

My posture walks my tale. The burdens of my day, hang heavy, flutter light.

I am that which you see.

I've grown weary of the hide

Seek me

What is a meltdown?

When the long-toothed, snarly, rabid emotions find the key and set them self loose from the reinforced locked room, take over and run rampant dragging you by the ankle, in circles at 100 mph

Complete and utter lose of footing and control.

Meltdown, Comfort Me Suzanne Vega "Gypsy"

Sometimes I feel like I'm a powder keg....and someone has thrown a lit match
Meltdown

"You come from far away
With pictures in your eyes"

Unexpectedly, I was put in a situation that caused me great internal strife. Couldn't figure out what I was supposed to say, how to escape, how to stop the verbal barrage...

"Of coffee shops and morning streets
In the blue and silent sunrise"

And this...person, would not shut the fuck up.
Then she realized I was upset. Asked what was going on. Wanted to take me to another room, away from my highly distressed son, and Talk Some More.
How can I make these fucking idiots realize that there comes a point in which words become flaming weapons of hurt?
At these times, I have to, have to, for my own safety and protection, figuratively Slam the Door, shut them out, pretend they have disappeared off the face of the earth because The Words Hurt Too Much! In the interest of stopping pain, I run. I'm a runner. When stuck, stymied, on the verge of uncontrollable emotion, I drop everything and I Run.
I slammed the door.
And then she tried calling me at the house.
I cannot deal anymore. I refused to "pick up and deal" because I cannot!!

"But night is the cathedral
Where we recognize the sign
We strangers know each other now
As part of the whole design"

I feel like a bird without wings, completely useless to fly outside. Do you think, if others knew....how precarious and fragile the autistic survivor is.....that they might hold me up? Off the damp ground? And help me find my wings?
Do you think that they might look, before they throw the match?
Because once I'm lit baby, once I start to crumble and melt, it's easily hours and days before I can find my feet and open the door and step out again.
Forgive them, for they know not how easily we hurt.

"Oh, hold me like a baby
That will not fall asleep
Curl me up inside you
And let me hear you through the heat"

They don't realize the toll of this everyday existence. They are clueless to the strategies, planning, maneuvers, strife and electrified wire we must cross to make it through this minefield.
Why is solace easily found alone? And what of comfort? Can an Aspie find comfort in someone else's arms? Can a survivor? Others are so complex, manipulative and they talk too damn much.

"You are the jester
Of this courtyard
With a smile
Like a girls"

I keep thinking if I arrange the pillows and blankets just right...maybe it will feel like someone is holding me, comforting me.

"Distracted by the women
With the dimples and the curls"

And there is comfort in music. In the warm, mystical lyrics and rhythms of Suzanne Vega:)

"By the pretty and the mischievous
By the timid and the blessed
By the bowing skirts of ladies
Who promise to gather you to their breast"

I'm guessing many have favorite songs that offer some relief. That allow one to drift to soft visions and away from the pain.

"Oh, hold me like a baby
That will not fall asleep
Curl me up inside you
And let me hear you through the heat"

My faults, weaknesses are showing, like a slip showing, or toilet paper stuck to my shoe.
I hadn't cried in front of this person before. Can't fathom meeting her again face-to-face. Can't even deal with the thought of speaking to her.
Know what? I Don't Have To
Yup, I care about myself enough to avoid any further deep distress.

"You have hands of raining water
And that earring in your ear
The wisdom on your face
Denies the number of your years
With the fingers of the potter
And the laughing of the fool
The arranger of disorder
With your strange and simple rules
Yes now I've met me another spinner
Of strange and gauzy threads
With a long and slender body
And a bump upon the head"

Wow, didn't realize how exceptionally well this song fits.

"Oh, hold me like a baby
That will not fall asleep.....

Thanks Suzanne
Hi Lis
Maybe tomorrow will be even a bit better

"Grace" Shadow Box

I made this a while back. Thought it was time to share. It features a photo of my great grandma Grace:)

Matilda "Fertile Imagination"

My latest shadow box:)

Info for those who love an autistic, spouse, partner, boyfriend, girlfriend

Found a very interesting blog, Dancing With Ludwig, written by a boyfriend who is NT and his girlfriend is Apergers. Just wanted to recommend:) it isn't often I find good material for the caring NT.

Trust and the Alien Autistic

Aspies Believe This Strongly!!!!!!

Rough Day

The day started out well. I spent hours arting. Then around 10:30, I received a call from the school. LittleGuy had hit his head on the playground and wasn't feeling well. Partner and I rushed to the school and brought him to the ER. He looked out of sorts.
 The doctor determined he had suffered a concussion. She told us what to watch for and sent us home. He was somewhat slow and lethargic throughout the afternoon. Bought an hour before bedtime, he perked back up to his normal self. We have to work to keep his head safe, over the next two weeks...a second head injury, within this time frame, could be dangerous.
 I notified the school that he is medically restricted from going out for recess. I also need to let them know he cannot engage in gym. I'm just not sure these are enough safeguards. I'm really tempted to keep him home from school all week and just pick up his schoolwork for him.
 I'm pretty upset with the school. They only have one or two adult playground monitors. Any sensible adult would have noticed LittleGuy and his friend were playing too rough. No adult saw him hit his head, fall to the ground, his slowness getting off the ground or him holding his head.
 I've already written letters of concern, to the principle and the superintendent. I've spent the afternoon and evening researching school protocols for playground safety. I've compromised a list of questions for the school. I'll print off a number of articles relating to this subject. Then I'll compile the info and present it to the administrator.
 I've contacted a couple other parents. One shares my concerns and is willing to do something about it. I meet with a school board member early next week.
 Why do things have to go wrong...and hurt me or someone in my family...forcing me to advocate, take action and fix the broken shit?
Yeah, I single-handedly forced this school system to put together and institute a truancy policy. Now it's time to institute some playground safety protocols and keep kids safe.
Yes, there is Always hell to pay when my boys get hurt.
Hoping LittleGuy heals up okay.


God give this Momma strength

Right, Wrong and Other Ruminations from the Front

Lots of insight, these days.
Right and Wrong. I used to logically know right from wrong. I mean, I understand law and rules, always have. Then I knew right from wrong Largely based on those around me. That is where I have been operating probably the past couple decades. I have put most, if not all, my faith in the opinions, wants and needs of others. Yup, I haven't really had a mind of my own. Rather typical abused child mentality. No shock there.
Just a couple of weeks ago, I found myself in a situation that felt wrong. It was a very odd, very new sensation of a somewhat physical nature. Immediately I realized that I needed to change this situation. So I did. Within a day or two, I started implementing solutions to get me out if this wrong feeling circumstance. It was as if blind justice removed her blindfold and realized she could see for herself the right and the wrong. I honored what I felt. I believed my intuition, conscious.
Then this week, I ran into something that I felt was right. There are no ifs, ands or buts about it. I need to do what I feel is right. I don't need to take a poll, ask others advice or bow to the opinions or pressure of others. And this is virginal territory here. A lesser person would continue to acquiesce to the thoughts of others, but they don't know what I know, believe and feel.
I find it interesting that I felt the wrong feeling first, before feeling the right one.
Anyone, I'm adjusting to this whole...dare I say...trusting myself and my instincts. I believed that I was doing wrong and I believe that I am doing what is right. I trust me, first and foremost. Yup, this is all new stuff.

Dealing with my chronic neck pain.
Acupuncture has really helped with my chronic neck pain. I know I kinda lambasted it in a recent post because I'd had a couple cathartic, unpleasant reactions. But sometimes healing just hurts. A lot of the time, actually.
I've realized that I have spent a lot of time, these past three years, bedridden or close to it, from physical and emotional ailments. Movement is a good/ bad thing. Some movement feels okay and doesn't cause pain, whilst too much or the wrong movements can be painfully debilitating.
I continue to work on myself, energetically and physically. It's time to improve circulation and strengthen weakened muscles. I'm able to walk short distances again, so I partake of that. In feeling my neck, it is quite obvious most of the vertebra are out of place. Chiropractic care would be too dangerous. Thus, I am doing some yoga stretches and light massage to Unlock the taut muscles around my skull, neck, upper back and shoulders. I've begun doing range of motion exercises, small, repetitive circles at each joint, in order to loosen up and unfreeze. I have to be very aware of how much to do and how strenuously, but I feel I am making small progress in the right direction:) I can feel how tense and stiff my beleaguered body has become. Time for that to release and change.
Well, that's probably enough for now. Lots more going on, but it can wait for another day.
Thank you for reading:)

The Forgotten World...Living Inside Dissociative Identity Disorder

 One reason I like therapy is that I get to acknowledge and talk about the Forgotten World. Most people get through childhood relatively unscathed. They lived it, they got over it. It doesn't haunt their waking moments and nightmarish dreams. They have left the place of childhood and remember it with warm and cold fuzzy memories.
 For the Multiple, the Trauma Survivor, the DID, childhood is like a forgotten, forbidden, misunderstood place that can't be shared and few actually want to hear about it.  See, we can't leave it behind, as we keep reliving the most hideous and painful aspects of our young lives, in every day life.


  Therapy allows an avenue whereby the hidden and shameful incidents, the secrets, can be let out into the light and examined. My therapist can listen to the details, try and fix broken toys, hear the cries and whispers, and offer support. My inner world is made real, no longer forgotten. It's like the large part of me that was sequestered, denied, and disbelieved has been given back to me. Kinda like being made whole in the freedom of acknowledging all of who I am.
 It must be nice to have a concurrent timeline from your past to the present. I have jumbled up dates, ages, times and unpredictability.
 The things that save me, that help are therapy, writing and communicating with my other multiple friends. I started this blog with the intent of just talking about my autism. My Aspergers is a big part of me, but so is my DID. I've found that I can't really separate one completely from the other. They both constitue the whole picture that is me.
  I must say that I have become more stable with therapy, as well as more confident, less anxious. So much can be healed when taken out of the dark and aired in the light.
 This blog is me, mom, autistic, artist, survivor, multiple...I am all of this:)

Positive Affirmation

As a parent...

I want my child to succeed and I will be supportive. Ran into a parent waiting/ wanting her kid to fail so she can rub his nose in it. I don't get it. 

Maybe someone else's failure is an ego boost? 

It's just strange. I guess I never thought a parent would be like that.

 Yup, I support my kids without enabling. And I never wish them anything but success:)

I'm just sayin'

Had to get that doozy off my chest.

Night all

Hmmmm, guess I'll always be treated as a second class citizen...

....because I allow my self to be.
That doesn't sound right. Hmmm

In a perfect world, I would live alone

But the world is imperfect. Self-awareness is not all that great, when you can't make the changes you desire.


 My biggest failure, as an Aspie in an NT world, is that I can't keep a clean house. Most of the time, I don't even see the clutter. More often, I just don't care. It doesn't factor into my list of priorities. Never has. Never will.
 Yet, my childhood repeats itself and I must think of this task, on a daily basis. I dislike even the mention of this whole cleaning thing. Memories, frustration and utter nonsense. I have been..reprimanded, hmmm, that's kinda light, but I'll use it. Anyway, unclean rooms tend to make people angry and crazy. Ever since I was a kid, I've been a failure because I couldn't clean appropriately, or to someone's idea of "satisfaction". Yeah, I lived with this daily...still do. I must continually meet someone else's expectations. Must constantly be aware of too mch clutter and dirty dishes causing a possible altercation. I'm always living in someone else space and domain, hence I have to follow their rule, not mine. Always relegated to a second class citizen.
 Maybe I'm just not roommate material. Maybe I was inherently wired to live alone. Maybe I'm selfish or would like to know what it feels to be selfish and have a mind, will and space where I rule. Space to find out how I would rule....what am I like under everyone else's expectations. What do I like to do minus the tasks done to appease and keep the peace?
I have to wonder...if I will ever find out..who I truly am. The outside is ominous, demanding...and not my first choice of location.
People rarely ask my opinion, about anything, much less listen to what I have to say.
I'm not gonna put myself down and say, yeah, I'm not roommate material. Even though that is true. Rather, I'd like to say its hard to know who I am when I live in constant fear and outright revulsion at this whole clean house bullshit, important shit. I keep associating with people who only give me positives as long as I clean the house right and often enough. Yeah, the clean house has Been the most repetitive, ongoing theme in my life. I'm so damn sick of it. But it will ever change. I will always live under someone else's rule. I will always be thought lazy and inconsiderate if I don't constantly strive to do my best to make someone else's priorities mine, even when I don't agree. I will continue to be liked more, if I clean the house. I will continue to be ignored and angered at for failing this.
In my mind, hundreds of things are more important than this worn-out, overused and trivial matter. I know no one will see my point but me. But maybe I'd like a point, sometime.
In a perfect world, I would live in a quiet, stressful place of my own.
I envy, highly envy, people with jobs and the ability to support themselves and live the lifestyle of their own choosing. In my mind, those people know who they are. Me? I'm just a grunt. Always have been, though the titles not setting well with me so much, these days.
I guess I'm starting to wonder more and more...who I am...what do I like...can I ever have some control over my own life...if so, what would that be like? To have power and control over my own life...wow, what would that be like? Hmmm, I dangerously...nervously entertain such ideas.
Maybe I've shared too much. Maybe it's not safe and healthy to have needs, wants and desires. Maybe it's too odd to put myself first...feels strange, almost like I'm doing something forbidden that most people do as a rule.
Hmm, personal power...personal control...running and having a life of my own. Intriguing.

Redefining Friend and Some People are Dicks

I'm becoming more and more uncensored these days. Fair warning:)
 So I knew this one person, she said she was a "friend". Apparently, to her and others, "friend" means seems someone who I can call on, hang with, for an unspecified period of time, till they Run away due to insecurity, something I said, didn't say or should have done differently. It's a temporary thingy.
 Just this week, I was within shouting distance of this one person who had insisted she was my friend, up until six months ago. She caught sight of me, turned and practically ran away. These people I classify as dicks. Seriously, am I really that frightening, that threatening that one has to work so damn hard to avoid me? Hell, I've Got A Clue. I understand that. Trust me, bitch, I want nothing to do with you! Yeah, I should have chased her down, just to make her uncomfortable, but that's not who I am. Would've felt good, but it isn't me.
 Everyone has a right to be a dick if they want to be.
No skin off my nose.
 Someone told me, this week, "it's good to see you angry." Apparantly, I have been playing nice far too long. Honesty isn't always a pretty thing. It ain't always rainbows and kittens.
  Overall, I've calmed down a bit. I had an autistic shutdown for a few days which helped reset my modem. Sleep can be a phenomenal healer.
 Some things that used to work, aren't working anymore. I swear, so much changes within,mwithout each therapy session. Therapy is a love / hate thing.
  I had acupuncture this week. It hurt. I've been having reactions after sessions, and they haven't been pleasant. They probably are theraputic, cathartic reactions, but I'm just not in the mood. Not sure if I'll continue or not.
 Hoping my stress level will go down with less mandatory errands and appointments. It would be nice to catch a break. Still not feeling 100%.  Haven't fully recovered from the stress shutdown, but it's not as incapacitating.
 Had to cut back on my Lyme antibiotics. My physical system wasn't handling the meds well. I used to really like self-massage, but with the Lyme massaging can just make it flare.
 My neck pain has improved some. Now my mid back slightly bulging disc feels like there's a knife in my back. Highly unpleasant. Can't remember the last time I felt "good", much less "well".  Not thrilled with this everyday it hurts crap. I'd like to be more productive.
 Each day is different. I'm just rolling with the punches:)

One thing I learned today

It's really nice to know, to really know, that people care about me, love me, hear me and are concerned. People, by their actions and words, have showed me they care. Very heartwarming.

I'm a mess

Made an urgent visit to my doc today. Feels like I'm on a roller coaster ride in the tunnel of terror. Each turn more scary than the last.

 My doc is great. We had a chance to air and talk about all the worrisome symptoms raging in my poor beleaguered body. She gave me a good hands on physical that ruled out a lot. She ordered bloodwork and even went so far as to walk to the next office and bring the blood work tech over to me in her office. She spared me the embarrassment of full blown tears in a crowded waiting room. I just couldn't stop crying.

 Mostly she and I talked. She listens extremely well and gives the bestest hugs. She pointed out that I was overdoing trying to get healthier. I'd been modifying my diet, supplements and such... That I've been overwhelming myself with too many changes. My stress level is through the roof. I spend more time crying than not crying.

I need to give myself a break. The work I'm currently doing in therapy...is tremendous, physical, somatic and releasing of old, stored pain. This alone is enough to overwhelm the commoner. Add to that everything else...and well, I'm a mess.

 She gave me a lot to think about. There is much I needn't worry about. And she offered gentle suggestions that seem like really good ideas.

 Hearing a lot of "healing is a process" "it doesn't get better overnight, but it will get better" and such. Definitely in a full blown crisis mode which, thankfully, is really rather rare for me.

 I'm breathing a little easier, slowing down, not expecting so much unrealistic things from myself.

 I made the right move, being brave enough, thru overt tears, to go to my docs office, insist on an appt and procedure to bawl in front of nurse and dr alike. I knew I needed help and I got it. I am strong. I'm still fighting. Still releasing all the old, bad shit...and I've got people that care.

I'll feel better...at some point

The Rambling Aspie, fear, therapy and other daily dodo

Creative titling...a lot going on these days.
Mostly spend my days adjusting to this new schedule of sons and schools. It takes me at least a solid month to establish a daily schedule that works. It's very tiring. My weekdays are boys and school and boys and schools, get gas, pick up food, drive drive drive. Seriously, it's all I do. Between drivings I try and rest, nap, recuperate or figure out how to do the next task.
 Had therapy yesterday. It will take awhile to process everything that was said.....like a regular hour of therapy x4. That's how much information was covered and exchanged. Exhausting, but hard to sleep. Too much on my mind.


  Trying to understand how I'm not to blame, that it wasn't my fault. Why is that so tough? If I saw a grown man beating up the puppy, I wouldn't even think of blaming the puppy.
  My previous blunt post, I shared with Therapist. Didn't realize that I had felt such deep betrayal from everyone around me, growing up.
 The pain thingy...yeah, it's immense on a couple different levels. Mostly wrangling the physical pain that I had to hide and stuff away on a daily basis. There is so much there. This will take awhile. I'll probably be twenty pounds lighter if I can get it all dealt with.
 Lots of depression. Not suicidal, just accepting of the fact that if I dropped dead tomorrow, don't cry for me, Argentina. Health issues going on heavy. I will not cause my death in any way, but part of me would welcome it. It may be my only chance at peace. No one can feel or fully understand my pain, but a two or few. As well, few can begin to comprehend the struggles I contend. We live and we die alone. It's okay. My life has always been two words, painful struggle.
The only tattoo i want, is one that says Do Not Resuscitate across my chest. I've done my best. When my body says is time to go, i dont want to fight no more. I'm one of The best fighters that has ever been. My kids and few that love me may never understand this. I love them, but I love and honor myself, as well.
Never fear death. Never. Life is the scary, fearful stuff nightmares are made of. Just sayin'


 Maybe sometimes I just need a break from the worry, the fears, nightmares, flashbacks and perpetually attempting to fix the broken Me. I don't know. I just get worn out, sometimes.

Health issues. Getting me down. Some days...I don't know.

 Went for a short walk after dark. Walking in the dark reminds me of swimming in the ocean...I don't understand how people can do it. Being in a place where they cannot see or know what is around them. The night and the ocean frighteningly infathomable.
 
I don't know. Guess that's it for now.
The sky was pretty yesterday:)

Pain, so much pain...and incredible self-loathing

I realized this week, that I am chock full of self-hatred...and pain. Emotional pain that can tear you to shreds. Picture rolling around in barbed wire on a battlefield with grenades tossed and exploding over your head...unable to get free...That's how much it hurts...sometimes. Oh god, I don't know if the pain will ever end. I feel so beaten...by bloody, mangled fists.
 Self-loathing so thick, I could shove a red hot poker through my hand and That would feel better. How I hate the demeaning, filthy, vile acts I was forced to do. If you had any idea of how repulsive...at how shockingly humiliating the things I was made to do...how frequently...how depraved..how much I hated...and I Had to, forced to appear willing, lest the violent anger surface in the perpetrator and things get even more painful.
 How the fuck was I able to handle, feel and then hide so much pain? It seems fucking impossible. Like wall upon wall of filthy shit bricks, steaming stench...all kept hidden.
 Does this shit ever end?
Can one person even release so much toxic garbage in a lifetime?
I ask you
I ask you
I ask you
The task seems....daunting, out of reach, lofty and highly optimistic
I don't know if I'll ever be free..short of death.
I really wonder sometimes.
Haven't I suffered enough?
I ask you
It feels like I've lived a hundred, hard, imprisoned years. Wrapped in the autism, the dissociation, hiding deep within...pain, screaming, unrelenting pain.
Why
To what end
To what means
For what purpose or gain
No, no one person could ever handle this much...no, of that I am sure
I hate myself for what I did, for how it felt, for complying, for being smart enough to know it was wrong and stupid enough not to stop it
I was a child living in a whorehouse...and I knew it was all wrong
I was fucking trapped, locked in, unable to escape
I buried myself within myself...and still got burned.
I think the only way to even try to heal is with words..scary, frighteningly brutal and offensive words of all that was Never allowed to be said And saying them Once, oft does not work, so I will say them again and again and again until someone hears and they dissipate for good.
I deplore repetition...but they keep resurfacing
I'm tired of holding in all this fucked up shit.
I'm tired of my body breaking down because of secrets and emotions held within.
The outside...oh yeah, the real world...is just a little tame piece of shit...like a carnival ride for toddlers. Yeah, ask me if I give a shit.
The battle, my real world is far and away the most strenuous, back breaking, time consuming, labor and attention intensive thing in my life.
I've hated myself for keeping sooo many secrets, for protecting the guilty and the scum of society. I'm fucking tired of tiptoeing around delicate and taboo subjects that make people uncomfortable.
Who the fuck gave a shit when I was being beaten and abused? Oh, let's not see any bruises or that that little girl needs help. No, let's fucking look the other way and pretend she's telling stories....fathers don't do that shit. Bull Fucking Shit....fucked up blind denying bastards. Open your fucking eyes.
God, I just wanted one person to see me, see what was happening to me, the empty, hollow eyes, the bruises, ...I just wanted one person to crawl out of their fucking denial, and self-centered lives and see....and help. One Fuckin person...was that so much to goddamn ask?
Why did that shit go on and on and on for weeks, months and years without one fucking caring person to say "STOP".... "You look like you need help.....here, how can I help you?"
Betrayers, lacking empathy and common fucking sense. Surrounded by sooo many people....and Not One of Them Would See
WTF
Maybe I am bitter. Maybe I feel Enormously betrayed by Family, Friends, Teachers, Counselors, Priests, Neighbors...every fucking person who had contact with me the beaten broken child. I feel utterly and hopelessly betrayed. Bunch of lazy no good uncaring fucks.
Every fucking day...I just wanted ...someone to see me....someone who cared...who wanted to know what it was like at home...to ask why I was always so sad...why I rarely smiled and even rarer laughed.
But there was no body...no body...no one. Yeah, thanks god, left me amongst this pile of shitheaded fucks.
I was so hurt...that no one cared enough...to step a foot, outside of their plain, paltry lives to help one little child.
I have no faith in people...go Fucking Figure.
I remember teachers...a teacher or two...that gave me hope. Maybe they looked at me with a kind eye one day...or started asking a question and then stopped.
My fourth grade teacher...she was on to something....she knew something was wrong....but never really followed through. By that age, I had tried sending out signals....silent cries for help....didn't work.
By nine, I was hopelessly resigned to that life of treachery, confinement, prostitution and daily beatings. My god, anyone who looked at me could see the despondency reeking out my pores. I'd break out in tears once or twice a week, at school. Nope, let's just let her be. Don't get involved...they're a good catholic family.
I was a nobody. Bunch of ignorant fuckers.
And they let him get away with it....abusing how many children? And for how many years? Alllll Guilty!! Fucked up bastards.
Yeah, I'm angry, I'm hurt, I'm fucking disillusioned with "humanity" and stupid ignorant people who refuse to help suffering innocents.
Yeah, blow that one up your ass.
That's a lot of shit...a lot of stored shit that I've been carrying around and too afraid to share. Still hurts...but not so vehemently.
I regret I didn't tell someone. I regret that I was too scared that I would be taken out if my family home if anyone found out. See, family was familiar and strangers were unpredictable danger. I regret I was autistically, naively and childly stupid.
In my mind, to be removed from the family home....was more scary than the shit I went through everyday. It was unknown. Unknown = scary. I sealed my own fate. Sometimes still blame myself. Sometimes wish I had been a stronger more obstinate child.
If I had told one person
If one person had cared enough to pry, inquire
If one
Do me a favor
At the bottom of this post are three comments, one of which is "I read this".....if you have had the strength and courage to read this tirade....if you heard me...click "I read this"
It's completely anonymous
I just want to know if anyone can hear me

Trying to find peace

I'm searching
Found this at "makingupforlostground.com"
Real relevant

Coping with Incest Recovery Pain - Peace is Possible! The Pain of Recovery and Why to Persevere I have good news and bad news, I prefer the bad news first so that the good news sounds so much better in contrast: The Bad News for incest survivors: Unfortunately for survivors of incest, abuse and trauma there is no way around the pain factor. There are prescribed drugs that can help you cope – and I used them as needed – but I never want to be forced into taking a medicine for the rest of my life IF there is another way. Suicide can be tempting but It is never the answer and you must not kill yourself. If you did you let Evil Win and the Abuser win, so if you suicide you let them win- so Don't suicide. Instead reach out… find help and safe relief – precious relief – from the pain and you can get past this, because you already survived the worst of it! I am someone who lived this horror and walked through this dark passage. I am telling you from personal experience that I believe you can get through this with help. I am very strong willed. I am a survivor, and survivors learn to find a way to keep on keeping on. I have tried to figure a way around experiencing pain during incest recovery and counseling, but there is no way around it. And I know, because I've tried every short cut, every rabbit trail to get around the pain factor, and you just cannot escape the pain. BUT, and this is very important to realize- The pain you experience during counseling and recovery is the releasing of the pain that you carried with you from the actual abuse. As you release the pain you have less of it inside of you, which means it has less control of you. It also means you now have room inside of your heart and mind for other positive, happy thoughts and feelings. For this short moment in time- Embrace the pain and grieve for your loss. Let go of the pain, let it flow out of you and set yourself free from the control of the past. There are safe ways to learn how to do this so you don't trigger an acting out episode of hurting yourself or worse. Every time you let go of some of the pain you feel lighter inside. Now, if you are like me at that time in my life and you have tons of the pain in you, then you will cry oceans before you feel better. I reached a point in my grieving when I began to feel happier inside, like after so much grieving had passed I began to see an end to the tears. The Good News: It is a healing pain that ultimately leads you to peace. It can feel so bad, but you can let it go and be "FREE". Embrace this pain release so that your soul and your heart and your mind will have peace. Imagine your arms are full of pain and you’re carrying this around. You want to have joy, but you can't pick up and carry joy because your arms are full of pain. Let go of the pain and you will have room for carrying joy. I want to also point out that our body holds physical memories. Perhaps you have heard of muscle memory in terms of exercise and such. But I didn't make the connection to abuse that my body was holding onto physical muscle memories. This came out in massage therapy, during regular massage, but most especially in myofascial release- a type of massage that focuses on more connective tissues. I began to have flashbacks of various brutal physical assaults upon me. Images that I haven't even thought upon in 15 years came flashing into my head and I began to cry. I asked the therapist what is this happening to me. She talked to me about muscle memories and how our bodies retain this pain. I was shocked and then I realized how critical it was for me after all these years to begin to release the physical pain stored inside my muscles. I would have preferred, I believe, to have done this way back when I was 17 years old and doing recovery... but better late than never right? Right! So I embark on a whole new journey of releasing physical memories stored in my muscles and ligaments. Touch Therapy is not something to embark on without being in counseling. You will need a solid base of new coping skills and support before you embark on this level, not for beginners. Imagine a purifying fire (the pain release in counseling) and there is gold in the fire (you). But the gold has impurities in it (the damages from the abuse). The fire burns away the impurities but leaves the gold unharmed and more pure than before it went into the fire! We are like Gold with Impurities! The fire seems like it will burn us up and destroy us… but it does not burn us up, and it will not destroy us. The fire seems to be something to fear and to run from but don't! Embrace it and it will burn up the impurities leaving you better than before! Please check out my events/updates/workshops page for more information about this topic. Like a Phoenix rising from the ashes, you will rise up again whole and renewed!

Seems like I'm spinning in circles.
Hoping for peace

People I have told, informed I have Aspergers

I've seen this question frequently on Aspie groups....who needs to know I have Aspergers?


 First off, I usually mention that I have "Aspergers which is a mild form of autism." I'm never sure who is familiar with "Aspergers", but I believe most people can understand "mild autism".
 My Partner was the first person to be informed about my Aspergers. Actually, she and I found out together so it was easy. If she hadn't known, she would have been the first person I talked about it with. She's my partner of 18 years and my best friend:)
 After my Partner, I mentioned it to my family physician. My Nurse Practitioner has a mental health background and is very Smart. She has helped me find the right medications to manage my high anxiety (a hallmark and bane of Aspies) and my chronic insomnia.
  Next, I told family members. I had a lot of explaining to do there, but I think it helped them understand why I've behaved in different, unpredictable, anti-social ways. I'm glad I could clear up their misconceptions about me. I'm not difficult, rude, inconsiderate Or self-centered...just an autistic with oversensitivities normal for my species:)
  My older son also has Aspergers, so I needn't have explained much to him. He and I share the majority of Aspie traits. My LittleGuy, who is almost ten, I waited until he was about five or so, and let him know why mommy is different and stays home a lot. As he has grown and matured, I've been able to share what makes me different and what is very challenging for me due to my Aspergers. He asks questions, now and then, and I answer truthfully and based on his comprehension.
 It seems like...some people might harbor shame or uncertainty about being autistic. It's just who we are. I feel no need to hide it. It no longer makes me feel vulnerable when I mention it to others. On the contrary, I keep finding more people that want to help and understand me.
  Back to the original question.....It's important that close friends know I'm autistic. I have very few, but I talk to them about it. My neighbors, whom I frequently run to when I'm in distress or get horribly scared and confused, are also on my "need-to-know" list. This helps out especially when I am overwhelmed in tears and distress. I don't have to work so hard to make words and force msef to talk. I have great neighbors...now that I think about it.
Another group of people I feel should know, are my LittleGuys school teachers. I deal with these people on a daily basis and I know I am different. I often need to ask questions more than once; I need help understanding forms and assignments NTs usually comprehend. I oft get emotional, (yup, I'm a bust out in tears when I get stressed person) when discussing tough issues and they tend to be pretty darn understanding and try and help me. So teachers are important to inform.


My dentist is another person that comes to mind. Although I have the greatest, most compassionate dentist and techs, I'd like to think they treat me just a little more gently than most. Hmmm, if that is one word of the wise, that I could share with everyone..."Treat the Aspie more gently".
One topic I keep reading, is probably the toughest to decide upon.....do I tell my employer? This one is so individual as each employee and employer are different in understanding. I really don't know. I haven't been employed or employable for years. I could probably only get a job if my employer knew about my autism and was a disability-friendly workplace. I wish I could be of more help on this issue.
I just wanted to share my knowledge on this subject. I hope it helps:)

A Fantastically Tragic Life

I can go from zero (everything is fine and calm) to Holy Shit (fumbling in the dark chaos of cold black turbulence) in seconds.
 Why does it seem like self-awareness is manipulation? When the two are entirely different animals?
 I am aware that I had a very good, put together, everything's fine week....until I didn't Have to keep it all together in mommy mode, first week of school, need to get through all these hoops and shit.
Last night, I fell head first back into the abyss, the clinging, screaming, feeling, sensations of my life before the last couple weeks. Or, what I like to call, what my life really is between intermittent bouts of sanity.
Couldn't even figure out how to get dressed this morning...seriously, I had answered that as a question on my disability application and couldn't figure out (I see a theme here..) what to wear, how to change out of jammies, what to put on as one layer, what to wear as some sort of outer, light coat layer cause it's like 45 degrees out, cold. I ended up....staring in the closet for awhile, realized I was running out of time, threw clothes on over the jammies and called it good. Felt completely disheveled and out of place, not to mention the possible odiferous emanations.


Then I had to figure out what time to leave for sons school....could not figure out what was the right time. Then I debated where am I going to park, at this we school, so that my appearance and smell would offend the least number of people, yet, at the same time, I needed to find one of LittleGuy teachers to interact with.
I'm still not dressed appropriately. I did manage to find breakfast and go for a morning walk to clear my head.
Speaking of...I notice that when I approach or walk by other people, I lower my head. The submission of a survivor...or the shame? Or the avoiding painful eye contact of the autistic! Methinks I know not. But I notice that I am doing it a lot these days.
I won't even go into the remembrances of last night. I'll spare you the dirty details.
Emotion rages and erupts from, like nowhere. What a transformation from one minute to the next.
Can we say Unstable?
Chaos is like wanting to beat up twelve different foes and you can't land one, single, good punch.
Two phrases picked out among the battlefront: Find Peace....Forgive Yourself
Can't find the lesser painful road. All options seem prickly.
Sucks
Just sayin

I'll get back to ya

I was going to write, wisdom and something semi-informative, but I'm just too damned tired. First week of school for both boys, and mommas busy juggling and just trying to get enough sleep/ downtime. Catch ya in a week or two when the new stuff has acclimated, and I an think clearly again.
Be well

Grand Rapids Press...Aspergers Group

A

Tom Rademacher: Haven for young people with Asperger's reminds us quirks are good

1 / 12

By Tom Rademacher | The Grand Rapids Press 
on August 30, 2013 at 12:59 PM, updated August 30, 2013 at 3:30 PM

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We all need a haven.

Some of us seek it in books. Others try exercise, bird-watching, Sudoku, ceramics.

And then there’s “Puzzle Partners.”

I’m not referring to jigsaws, but rather a program where teens and young adults with mild social impairments can gather and not be judged too keenly for the simple fact they have Asperger’s Syndrome or high-functioning autism.

Part of me deplores the fact they need a special place to meet at all.

But then I remind myself that while we may all be equal in God’s eyes, we humans have a long way to go before we embrace people who have special needs with the same sort of hugs we give to those who are ostensibly normal.

Says Puzzle Partners member Mike Allen, a graduate of Kenowa Hills High School who enjoys computers, electricity and YouTube: “This is pretty cool. To be with people who have some quirks like I do.”

Mike is one of more than a dozen young adults from Kent and surrounding counties who show up regularly at “The Vault,” a youth center where the group convenes that’s owned by LaGrave Avenue Christian Reformed Church, and located on Sheldon Blvd. SE.

Puzzle Partners is a service of Hope Network that exists to provide opportunities for social growth and expression to those in need.

“I’m one of those people who likes making friends,” says Doug Halbeison, 25, who enjoys theater, works two jobs and is making his way through college.

Hannah Jo VanKoevering, 22, expresses it this way: “Friendship and acceptance … and the ability to let loose.”

And that they do, through animated conversation, and by taking part in everything The Vault has to offer – a kitchen, sitting areas, and entertainment that includes television, billiards, Foosball, air hockey and more.

Something amazing occurs when you step into the room and spend time with members of Puzzle Partners. You quickly begin to notice not what makes them different, but beautifully human.

Hannah has her own line of jewelry, entitled “Hannahtudes.” Tyler Riley works in retail, loves concerts, tattoos and piercings.

Ethan Robert Patterson volunteers at Guiding Light Mission, Habitat for Humanity and Noorthoek Academy, a school within Grand Rapids Community College designed for students with special needs.

Rebecca Flanagan, 21, is working on her GED, loves animals (especially horses), and calls herself “an aspiring writer.”

Sarah Frisch, 24, is a graduate of Calvin College, and not at all embarrassed to share that “The first time I knew I was different was during preschool, because all the other girls were playing with dolls, and I liked driving cars through pudding.”

If you see a little bit of yourself – or of others you know – in the above, then good. Your hug factor is growing.

“Puzzle Partners allows kids to take skills and go from being by themselves to being with others, and encouraging others,” says Mohan Krishnan, M.D., director of children’s services for Hope Network.

“Then, hopefully, that transfers to making friends and partnerships outside of Puzzle Partners, and that can lead to jobs, relationships, more opportunities.”

One of the biggest hurdles for those with Asperger’s is landing meaningful work. The problem often lies in a young adult’s inability to score well during job interviews. They may have the cognitive and physical abilities to perform, but fall short in social expression.

Puzzle Partners is designed to overcome that hurdle, one evening at a time, and usually under the watchful eye and generous heart of group facilitator Ann Mary Dykstra, a teacher “for a bajillion years” who “always had a heart for the kids who didn’t fit in well.”

Dykstra encourages each kid to use their voice, express their desires, showcase their gifts.

“People hear the word ‘autism’ and just assume certain behaviors,” she says.

“I was asked once, ‘Could you tell me what a teenage girl with autism is like?’”

Dykstra laughs. “Could you tell me what any teenage girl is like?”

For Dykstra, “I just enjoy each of these young adults personally, and when I’m with them, what I feel is that we don’t need to have them change to conform to society. I wish society could understand their gifts and challenges.

“Our goal is to help each person realize they’re so special beyond autism or Asperger’s.”

Dykstra’s dream is for Puzzle Partners to one day have a place of its own, so they’re not limited to two Thursday evenings a month. But that would take resources for which she and others are still searching.

In the meantime, they meet and celebrate their exquisite who-ness.

“We’re not lesser,” says Hannah Jo, “just different.

“You know. Like bird-watchers.”

Editor’s Note: For more information about Puzzle Partners, visitpuzzlepartners@hopenetwork.org

E-mail Tom Rademacher at: rademachertom@gmail.com