Black holes and gravity

Last week at work it was announced that more spending cuts need to be made, and since wages are some of the biggest expenses it’s highly likely that will mean redundancies.

It’s not the first time I’ve been in this situation, but it’s bothering me more this time. I think largely because both times in the past I’ve been pregnant and although I felt certain each time my job would go, my life was in the process of change and I couldn’t imagine life beyond maternity leave anyway, i had other things to preoccupy myself with and it didn’t feel like a huge deal.

This time it does. This time I’m craving stability. This time I’m really scared.

Scared of having to find another job, scared of putting myself out there in the job market, scared of starting again, scared of finding a job and not being as happy as I actually am here, scared of not finding a job and falling off the face of the planet…You get this picture, this is scary people!

When I left school I was unemployed for two years, directly as a result of what I now know is my own autism. I found job hunting excrutiating, putting myself out there, meeting new people, selling myself. I truly suck at these things. Not only did I not work for those two years, I barely left the house either and I’m terrified of falling back into that black hole again.

I’d like to be able to tell myself that I’d never let that happen again, but I just don’t know that I can.

I want this to be one of those moments in life that when I look back on it, I can say it was actually the best thing that ever happened to me, that it spurred me on to pursue my life’s passion, or find a job so amazing my only regret was not leaving sooner. But I’m scared I don’t have what it takes to achieve that. I’ve been in the same job for ten years, I found myself a little corner of the world where I was comfortable and doing ok, and I dug in my heels and refused to leave. It doesn’t always make my heart sing, I’ve wanted to leave more times than I can remember, sure. But it took me a long time and a lot of sheer coincidence and luck to find this place. So what if I can’t find myself another? What will happen to me then?

I’m not the kind of person who can easily make things happen. It takes people skills to make things happen, connecting with the right people, making an impression on the right people, getting out there and networking, selling yourself. Being a broader autism phenotype I can’t do this kind of thing. I have the brains, I have the ability. But success in this life is all about confidence. It’s not what you know, it’s who you know. It’s all about PEOPLE.

I’m worried, probably even more than not finding a job, that I’ll just end up in another office job, but unhappy. I find forging new relationships difficult and around new people, I have this inability to speak up and express myself, it’s overwhelming, exhausting being “on” all the time. I feel like I lose myself. I’ve been here so long I’m as comfortable as I’ll ever be. I can be myself. I dare to speak. Somewhere new I’m scared that “me” will be washed away among other people. It’s another black hole to fall into.

There’s just black holes everywhere around me right now.

But let’s look at this honestly. I have a better understanding of myself now than ever before – so armed with that knowledge I’m probably better placed to find ways to work around my obstacles and conquer them.

Things were massively different last time. You see I’d always lived in a fantasy world, but with my day structured around compulsory education the real world always balanced things out. When I left college that changed, what I did with my time was now down to me and I just didn’t know how to exist in the real world. So for two years I pretty much lived in a fantasy world, barely leaving the house in the process.

It almost suffocated me. I was in a black hole. But one of the reasons I lived in a fantasy world was because I was in denial of who I really was, I could pretend to be someone else there, I didn’t have to face any of my issues, I buried them. I’m not in denial now. I am facing and I am dealing.

And this time I have anchors in the real world this time that I didn’t have before. My children, the greatest reason to stay here. So that black hole from my late teens won’t have the same pull it had as before. I have a burning desire to be a strong role model to them, I want to create a wonderful life for them. My feet are firmly in the real world this time around.

I just have to find ways to avoid the other black hole now. The meaningless job. This is where I need to really think about my options, I need to consider where I want to go and find a way to get there. I will, I will, I will…

I will won’t I?

Confession Time

This is about revealing the aspects I usually try to hide or gloss over and owning it

 

I get really nervous about breaking rules – I secretly want to be a rebel but I’m far too chicken. But totally at odds with that, I hate conforming and being told what to do. I am a rebellious goody-two-shoes which usually means I rebel in unusual and usually unnoticeable ways.

 

I really, really hate talking on telephones and will do practically anything to avoid this. I’m not entirely sure what aspect bothers me most; the pressure to keep a conversation going and not fall into an awkward silence, the surprise of the phone ringing unexpectedly and suddenly finding myself having to be social when I wasn’t planning to be, and who knows what they might want and how that might totally change my plans... I just don’t like phones full stop.

I have a general distrust of people in suits, it feels like they’re covering up who they really are and just dressing to fit in. I know it’s only clothes, but I just don’t trust them.

Following on from this I have a strong dislike of the corporate world, the business world and as a default tend to see it all as a load of twattery. I especially hate the way the world revolves around businesses rather than human beings oh and the way employers seem to think they own your soul rather than simply pay you wages for your services to them.

I really admire people who break the mould, the woman down the road who wears no shoes and never says no to her children, cool! I don’t have to agree with their choices, but I admire that they dare to branch out on their own.

I don’t like drawing attention to myself. I don’t tell jokes because the moment everyone pays attention me, my mind goes blank and I can’t remember the punchline.

I really hate getting my hands on new technology, I don’t know whether it’s that technology has gotten more complicated, or my brain doesn’t adapt to new things as well as it once did, but it makes me want to scream, I find it really hard to fathom and because I don’t fully understand it, well it freaks the hell out of me because I don’t know what I’m doing. It actually makes my head want to explode and I start thinking old person things such as “why does technology have to change so fast, why can’t it just stay the same?!”

Recent Wins

I haven’t done this in a while but I think it helps to celebrate the steps forward we make, no matter how big or small.

Sam is doing really, really well at school, settling in much faster than they thought he would. Two recent things his key worker has told me have particularly pleased me and given me hope. One is that he has a great imagination and is always pretending things – something she hasn’t seen often in ASD kids, and also that he always notices when other kids are upset and always comments, this level of empathy again she hasn’t seen much of in other kids with ASD. Apparently at school he is already joining in with the phonics and so far isn’t stressed or fased by anything, he’s going to the toilet by himself and there are no negatives to report at all. This is going far more smoothly than anyone expected. Mat was ill this morning so I had to take Sam in myself, something we try to avoid doing as he finds it harder to separate from me than from his dad. But he handled it really well, he got a little emotional when it was time for me to leave but he held himself together well and made no attempt to stop me and when I glanced back at the door he seemed fine. The same time last year at nursery it would have been such a different story.

Also we went to Centre Parcs at the weekend to celebrate his birthday, we got him a new bike and since there’s nowhere around here to really ride it, I thought it would be lovely to have a weekend away there, inviting cousins up to join us on different days. Sam had a brilliant time and only actually cried because he didn’t want to come home. It was utterly manic and obviously all our usual routines went out of the window. But he handled it really well and there was only really one near meltdown coming out of the swimming baths – hardly surprising, he was hungry and tired, I was feeling pretty shaky myself. But by and large he handled it all well. He didn’t used to cope with the changing rooms in the swimming baths and used to go crazy at being closed in a cubicle to get changed, but he didn’t even hesitate going in this time. Also all the kids played really nicely together (miracle!) and his cousin Jacob is just brilliant with him and doesn’t seem at all phased when Sam won’t share or gets possesive over something – it just doesn’t freak him out one bit – it’s such a relief. Sam calls him his best friend, which is lovely. I’m seeing Sam talking to other kids more now than he’s ever done, and some of it is awkward and clumbsy but I guess that’s how we all learn.

We’re in a good place right now, Sam is exceeding everyone’s expectations – so much so we’re having a meeting next week to discuss the next steps at school – Martha is blossoming into a wonderful little character who entertains us all. We’re on an even keel. I just need to sort my own head out and get on top of things. But I now have an appointment with a counsellor next week and yesterday I took a bit of time of for myself and went for some reiki, which was amazing!

I have a lot to be thankful for, yes he may have ASD but he doesn’t seem to have massive sensory issues, his imagination is coming on now, he’s developing empathy, he can handle change so long as it’s introduced sensitively, he is actually pretty social, certainly with grown ups and chaos doesn’t seem to bother him too much… there are a lot of positives in there. Which is what they said at diagnosis funnily enough.

Overcoming obstacles and jumping hurdles

So I’ve discussed the issues, but I want to now get onto resolutions because I will not be a victim. This is about finding a way forward.
 

Before I get going I want to make one thing clear to myself, I’m sure not as many other mothers as I presume (as in every single other mother except me) has this huge tribe of other mummy friends, they’re just the ones who stand out most and talk loudest in the park and on Facebook. I’m sure there are countless others who rely on cousins for their children to play with, or entirely on playgroups or nursery or school. Let’s get realistic about this instead of getting all het up over an imagined reality. There is not this huge tribe of mummies and then only me on the outside.

Also, not every kid has a massive birthday party full of friends each year, I bet there are plenty whose parties are made up mostly of family members, in the early years particularly. (And for crying out loud there are some kids who don’t get presents, parties, anything). My kids are nowhere near as deprived as I seem to think they are, in fact they’re perfectly happy and don’t give a toss about popularity – and wouldn’t I prefer it to stay that way? The best way to do that is not give a toss either and model the right behaviour. It’s time to refuse engaging with the popularity contest that is Facebook. It is bullshit. I know this.

Okay? Okay.

Right then, people do need friends though (the right friends, not the most friends) and how else can I help my kids make friends in a way that I can cope with? It occurrs to me I’m taking more than I can handle on my shoulders and centering their entire social success on me being able to make friends with other mothers. But as children get older their close friends are usually kids from school and not the offspring of their mothers friends. Why do I seem to presume that parents chose their children’s friends? Misconception number 1!

Anyway, throwing away that misconception, rather than focusing my efforts on forcing friendships with other women, perhaps I’d be better signing us up to clubs that interest us, seperately that is. That way it isn’t all down to my own iffy social skills to carry the entire family. Pressure!!

And just slow  down, pace yourself and breathe! It’s ok to have a small, close group of friends, of the right people. I’ve established that it’s the dream of popularity I was in love with, not the reality of it. In reality group situations do not bring out the best in me, and I find it stressful maintaining so many friendships, I feel like I’ve spread myself too thin and it exhausts me. This is just the way I am and the reality I deal with. So if I’m to work with myself and not against myself, then it’s about searching out the right people and not  just gathering the most people.

It’s ok not to be the kind of person everyone describes as the life and soul of a party. It’s just fine to be the quieter person who some might overlook but other people really value in their lives. It’s ok to be more picky when it comes to making friends rather than just befriending everyone. To respect yourself enough to do that. It’s ok to be who you are. Really it is.

And when it comes to my kids, if I’m ok about something, they’re more likely to be ok about it. But if I’m not ok, they’ll not be ok. And if something isn’t bothering them, then don’t let it bother me. Don’t pass on my issues. They’ll develop enough of their own without me creating extra. That is one point well worth remembering.

Another important point – I need to think more about what will actually make my kids happy, than how something will look on Facebook.

I may have to repeat myself a few times to get this into my head and make it stick. Oh how very autistic of me.

Parenting the autism way –tackling misconceptions and the Facebook reality

Since becoming a mother I haven’t found myself with a big circle of mummy friends like you’re “suppose to” have. I’ve seen them in parks, gathered together in their little tribes, the children playing together happily and the mummies relaxing and chatting and bonding. I’ve seen the pictures on Facebook too; they have barbeques and all manner of lovely stuff. And yes, hands up, I get jealous. I feel like I failed because I don’t have that, failed me, more importantly failed my kids by not providing them with little friends of their own.

I feel gutted when it’s birthday time and I’m scratching away trying to rustle up a few little friends to attend a party for them, seeing the parties other parents are throwing for their children rubbed in my face on yes, Facebook. I hate, hate, hate birthdays. Right there, that’s the crux of the whole thing.

I’m not sure where I went wrong. It seems to just happen to other mums effortlessly, the other mummy friends thing.  And I have put myself out there since becoming a mum, at baby groups, toddler groups etc. I’m trying. But I’m struggling to covert mummy acquaintances into mummy friends. I’m not that horrible am I? No, I know I’m not. Do I smell? No more than other mummys…

I have lovely friends –genuinely the best, but none have children for my kids to play with and just lately it’s scared me that they seem to be drifting apart too. When my husband’s best friend had a baby at the same time as us, I thought we were set up for life. Unfortunately we clearly aren’t the type of people his partner wants to associate with and they pretty much shunned us and, rather hurtfully, found other parents to do the BBQ and park thing with. Well, fuck them.

Just a thought, it really seems to mean a lot to me to be able to put pictures on Facebook of me with a big group of people, and my children playing with a big group of children as an extension of that. Thereby it seems to be really important to me to be seen to be popular. I seem to think that success in life is measured by how many people come to your birthday party. Why? Is this a case of caring too much about what other people think? (don’t want to be seen as billy-no-mates, want everyone to love me, take that school bullies, look how much I changed!) Or is it that I really, really want these things? In other words do I want them because society tells me I want them (magazines, television and now social media) or do I want them because I actually, genuinely want them? And how stupid is it to have issues with your children’s popularity? WTF?

And why do I seem to want these things when I’m deeply uncomfortable in large groups, I barely speak. I haven’t got a clue what to say to people. We’ve invited friends around for BBQs and parties numerous times and I usually end up feeling ill with stress and worry, despite really, really wanting to enjoy myself. At other people’s parties I’m practically mute, hiding behind my husband or wandering off down the garden with my son who’s as uncomfortable in these situations as I am. I don’t thrive in those situations.

It appears that I’m in love with the idea lots of friends and popularity but not the reality of it.

Okay, okay, just going back a little to where I went “wrong” I feel like I need to understand why I haven’t magic-ed up this wonderful group of mummy friends first and foremost, let’s get to the root of this.

I do know other mums; I talk to them at playgroups (stressful! Argh, what to share, what not to share, when to share, am I talking about myself too much? I need to ask them about themselves without somehow sounding like I’m interrogating them…) Basically, from the word go I feel really uncomfortable around other people. Then I find the effort of maintaining fledgling new friendships worrisome and exhausting –  what if they don’t really want to know me, maybe I shouldn’t message them, maybe they think I’m pestering them… (yep, need to work on my inner dialogue on that one). And just the meeting up on numerous occassions, or interact on numerous occassions to build up a friendship means making myself uncomfortable over and over – it burns me out.

And that’s just the autistic mummy side of the issues. Try doing all that with an autistic son in tow, one who equally doesn’t want to be around people he doesn’t know, who won’t let you sit down and talk to other mums at playgroups or the school gates because it’s too much for him and he just wants to drag you away. Who doesn’t want to play nice with the other kids at the park and who’ll go bat shit crazy if another child wants to play with one of his toys so you daren’t have people around to the house.

It just doesn’t work does it?

But is it really that important to become popular? Am I pursuing this needlessly and heaping a whole lot of stress on us both for nothing?

If I don’t like being in large groups then surely I should just decide it’s ok not to be in large groups. Give myself permission to ditch the Facebook image of perfect life and allow myself to do things in a way that genuinely makes me happy, and comfortable and thrive? Tell myself it’s ok to have a few close friends than a group of friends so large how you ever find the time to be a good friend to those people I don’t know… That’s ok isn’t it?

Yes it’s ok for me to just have a few good friends, I reckon I can go with that, but then what of socialising my children? Are they missing out if I do that? It might make my son’s life easier, but in the long run will it make him happier or am I not helping him past this supposed disability? And what of my daughter, what if she is more neurotypical?

Answers next time in “Oh my god my head is going to explode!”

Catching Up Part Three: Me

Warning: Can of worms about to be opened.

The last 12 months have been the most important of my life. And I once wrote that after the dust had settled I wasn’t sure what would be left of me, who I would be. So now that the dust has settled where am I at? Well, to put it simply I’m not on top of my game yet, but I’m doing a whole lot better.

I now understand that autism isn’t the end of the world. It’s just a different world. And a world I actually grew up in and already lived in without realising. And I know that that’s ok, I’m not 100% ok with it yet, but I intend to be and I know that’s where I’m heading. I’ve spent most of my life with my head in the clouds, one foot in reality, one in fantasy, pretending to be someone else somewhere else, playing normal as best I could, blagging my way through school and university and work, escaping into daydreams to avoid certain truths I didn’t want to face.

I’m now in the process of reclaiming and reintegrating all those denied, neglected parts of myself, getting them out in the open and airing them off. For the first time ever I’m not blagging my way through life, I’m not lying to myself about how I really feel, who I really am.

I’m working on accepting myself rather than trying to reinvent and outrun myself. I need to work with what I’ve got rather than pretending to possess attributes I don’t have and struggling to keep up the façade. I know I can go further this way.

It’s exciting and it’s positive and still the hardest thing I’ve ever done. You see I’ve always felt there was “just something about me,” something wrong and I shudder at the thought of my children ever feeling that way about themselves. I want them to be proud of who they are, proud of where they’re from. I want them to know how amazing they are and understand their true worth. And I need to find this in me so they can find the same in themselves. This is perhaps the greatest challenge of all. Acceptance.

It isn’t that I don’t know who I am, we’re not going down that line, it’s about being honest with myself about who I am, not denying or berating myself for my true feelings and opinions, having the courage to be myself and to follow, to express my passions. Respecting myself. And that includes having respect for my limitations and being kind to myself, gently encouraging myself through the situations I find hard rather than beating myself up over them. That old cliché about being my own best friend.

But underneath all this is a longing to just be able to be me and I don’t feel like I know how to be that yet; to be able to speak without stumbling over my words, to be able to dance when I feel like it without getting paralysed with self-consciousness, to be able to burst into song when my heart is singing, or to even cry openly when I feel sad, to shout at people if they hurt me. I hold it all in, bottle everything up. It’s like I’m trapped inside myself. And when I do make myself speak, I feel like a loose cannon, a little uncontrollable, you should hear all the stupid shit that comes out. I often walk away from situations wondering why on earth I said something I just said. I get so incredibly self-conscious I can barely speak.

I don’t know if I’m really shy and awkward and afraid to speak my truth because I dislike of who I am deep down inside and I’m afraid to let that person out? Or is it that I dislike myself because of my tendency to be shy and awkward? I tie myself in knots on this as you can see.

Underneath it all is the longing to be able to connect with people more easily, to feel part of the human race. I’m scared of being lonely and I’m scared of being around people who I can’t be myself around, which is even lonelier… Welcome to the wonderful world of autism.

See, I’m not there yet. This post has unravelled. Rather like my head. I should probably mention I’m on a waiting list for counselling. That recently I’ve found my fuse is so short because I’m this mass of frustration and confusion, I keep exploding, viciously, venom spewing from me in a way that makes me feel ashamed afterwards.

The dust is settling, but the real journey is only just beginning.

Catching Up Part Two: The Baby

…is now a rather wonderful little toddler. 15 months old with corn blonde hair and (I think) brown eyes, to be honest they’re not really blue or brown at the moment but they seem to be darkening so maybe brown is where they’re heading. She’s as cute as a button though.
 

It’s really hard to describe Martha without referring to how different she is to Sam, which I’m quite uncomfortable with because I don’t want to sound like I’m favouring one over the other. I don’t.

But she is very different to her brother and I don’t know whether those differences are autism and neurotypical based, or boy and girl differences. I don’t even know if she will prove to be neurotypical when her personality unfolds further. I’m not. Daddy isn’t. She does seem happier in her own skin and more sociable than Sam was at the same age. She plays very differently – as in she already has imaginative play, and she copies things she sees all the time which Sam never did. She has a few words now; “fish” or “ish” as it comes out. I’m also pretty sure she says “there,” “more” “mama,” “dada” “grandma” “granddad” She’s even learned a few signs and is always signing for “more”. If you ask her a question she nods emphatically or shakes her head frowning, she understands what you’re saying and communicates her own wishes really, really well. All these things have developed along more neuro-typical time lines.

But that’s not to say she’s smarter than Sam is, they just seem to have different styles. Martha practices and tries things long before she can really do them, with Sam there would seem to be nothing evolving for a long time (but it was all going in), then suddenly he’d do something and master it overnight.

Martha currently isn’t displaying any signs of ASD but that doesn’t mean she’s a walk in the park either; she’s never slept through the night once (Sam had done numerous times at this point), she can throw monumental tantrums when you take something from her that she shouldn’t be playing with, she’s nearly always attempting to injure herself climbing or throwing herself off things, she’s always running off (Sam never did). She’s earned the nickname “Trash it Moo” for the sheer speed she can break or wreck something. Sam took to eating so easily and would try anything, Martha some days barely seems to eat anything. It most certainly isn’t a case of “Sam=bad baby, Martha=good baby”

Both Sam and Martha have been very much “only mummy will do!” velcro children. On that score they are very much alike and at this rate I might get to resume my social life by the time I’m in my 50s! I may still have a marriage by then too if I’m lucky.

But back to little miss Moo, she mimics all the time and it is so fascinating seeing your behaviour reflected back at you, yes it certainly makes you question the way you do things. I never felt like a role model before and for the first time in my life I need to think carefully about the example I’m setting and whether it’s the one I want to set. Do my actions align with my ideology?

She loves exploring the world and it’s been great showing her new places, introducing her to new things. She delights in things in a way that is just magical to share. Just recently she’s started dancing and loves music putting on the radio, she practically dived out of my arms to hit the dance floor when we put on a CD last week (and narrowly escaped hitting the dance floor head first in the process).

She’s surprisingly girly; she’s obsessed with shoes and always proffering her dainty little feet out to try them on, pretends to put make up on, loves putting handbags over her shoulder and parading around with them. Where does that come from? It’s so comical!

She’s also my little helper. If Sam needs the toilet she’ll automatically grab the toilet roll and try to wipe his bum, or grab a beaker and hold it in front of his winkie (he doesn’t sit on the toilet so you have to do this if he needs a wee and poo at the same time). She often empties out her washing basket and throws the clothes down the stairs (which is what we do when we’re sorting out a load of washing), if I’m dusting or wiping something up she’ll get a duster or wipe and do the same, she tries to help me bath Sam and feed the cats. She’s so funny.

And she adores her big brother, there is no doubt about that. We went to pick Sam up from school together last week and as soon as she saw him she squealed in delight, in fact they both did. They walked out of the school yard holding hands and my heart melted. It’s perhaps the most wonderful thing of all seeing them together, seeing their own relationship unfold and blossom. The next generation.

A few weeks ago I went to visit my grandparent’s grave. I haven’t been in ages, certainly not since Martha was born and I wanted to introduce her. I told Sam it was a park and as he played with Martha thankfully he didn’t quiz me. But as we left I glanced back at my Nannan and Granddad’s grave, imagining my Nannan standing there waving her hankie at us the way she used to from her door every Saturday when we visited. Then I looked across at my two children walking hand in hand giggling to each other, and in my head I appealed to heaven for them to look down now, look at these little people they never got to meet. My Granddad, a man of extremely few words, who spent hours and hours listening to the radio waiting for them to play “Hey Little Hen” so he could record it, it was their song, a man who worried about who would look after my mum when he was gone, who never learned to read or write because of some mysterious illness as a child that meant he missed a lot of school and that led the family to move out of the busy town centre and into quieter suburbs… I’m sure he’d understand now more than anyone how I feel about Sam.

But look how the family has changed, it’s all about these two now. It’s not me and John running around together, the centre of attention, it’s Sam and Martha, and Katie and Chloe. It’s a different world now. Their world. And that makes me both sad and happy at the same time.