There are plenty of articles about dealing with a learning disabled child, but what about dealing with a learning disabled adult.
My son is now 33 and has the mind of an early teen. He still watches cartoons (which I don't mind so much as I watch them too) Bit he watches little kid cartoons and it's slightly annoying.
I've given up a lot to raise him. He needs constant supervision.
Now he's having severe mental issues: hearing voices, anger issues, depression, panic attacks,  and an alter personality that rears it's head at times of stress.  I'm having a difficult time dealing with his problems while dealing with my own. I'm exhausted.
He's clingy yet affectionate. Moody and happy, scared yet brave enough to deal with my issues as much as he can.
He needs guidance for everything. Has trouble making his own decisions  He'll never be able to be on his own. He has little survival skills to make it on his own. Yes he can cook a few things for himself, but he still asks for guidance on what to have and how to do things.
Life is just to confusing for him without me to show him what to do and where to go. He has no money sense.
Having an adult (child) is taxing work I wouldn't trade it for anything. Yet there are times I wish for time off to myself, as he's always right here.
Lately he's finally gotten a part time job with the local agency that  helps the mentally disabled. And he works 3 days a week. I usually end up sleeping in because when he's home he constantly wakes me up. I'm glad for the time off, yet feel lonely that he's not here to chatter with. Someone told me it's “empty nest syndrome” and I believe it. That's what it feels like.
Dealing with someone who's brain functions at the early teen  level when they are 33 is a challenge. Enough with the stories about little kids, I think it's time for stories about mentally challenged adults.

what's been happening

things have gotten weird.
my son is diagnosed with depression, possibly bipolar, and anger issues. he's now displaying signs of an alter. No harm yet. all because his older cousin raped him repeatedly when we lived at moms for the first time.
the alter is kind of scary. his voice and persona change... get darker and deeper.
he's also hearing voices. in particular his bitch of an aunt. she tells him to do things and he's not strong enough to resist. i'm working on that one bu telling him i'm stronger than her. so far it seems to bring him out of the hold she has on him.
he's also told me that he feels like he should be a girl and wants to be a girl. i'm supportive of whatever he wants to do. but i can't help but feel a small bit of grief.

this is all worrisome thing.

on the good side. he's gotten a job with hope network.. he's enjoying the work and people, and he really likes the paychecks. it gets him out of the house for a few days, giving me a bit of a break.

my health has gotten worse. i have a walker now because my legs aren't working the way they should.. i no longer need to go to the hematologist and the renal specialist.

life has taken a few weird turns.

"im shattered: does it matter?"

.

Old

When did I get so freaking old???
1. When I was younger I was the one driving around with my music full blast in my car. Now I feel like the little old lady; standing on her porch, shaking cane in clenched fist yelling “Turn that fucking music down, asshole.”
2. I could generally eat what I wanted even though I gained weight. Now I can only eat select food and I still gain weight, and ill to my stomach.
3. Music didn't suck like most of today's music.
4. Things were simple, more innocent. Now there's almost no shame.
5. Things just cost a lot less; I'd kill for yesterday's prices today.
6. Other than the whole life long depression, I can now add cranky, creaky old lady with baggy skin and a spine that's literally tearing it's self apart.
7. I could drink and never get a hang over. Now I can't even take a sip because of all the stupid medications I'm on.
8. I had energy and could stay awake.  I could really drain some child for the energy level just like a vampire.
9. I was kinda gothy when I was in school.[didn't have a name for it then]: Now I'm an awesome elder goth... how cool is that.
10. Went to fun concerts and amusement parks when I was younger. Now I can barely leave the house without a panic attack.
11. I used to be hell on wheels; driving fast, even entering the ¼ mile race track [lost by half a car length]  Now I get crippling panic attacks that could have very well manifested into an attack in the middle of the highway causing all kind of trouble. I quit driving, one thing I used to love. It was freedom, a way to get away from what was going on in my life.
12. Dreams of moving somewhere exciting, Now worrying about having to move into a nursing facility.
Getting older sucks. Being old is the worst thing ever. There is a difference strangely.
My great-grandfather used to say; “It's okay to get older, just don't get old.”

And remember..... “Don't sweat the petty things; and don't pet the sweaty things”   “Of all the things I lost I miss my mind the most.” “It's all mind over matter: If you don't mind, it don't matter.”

Walls

Let's talk walls.

Walls can be a good thing. They keep the weather outside, They protect us from people who want to harm us, outside. 

Some times wall are even meant to keep invading armies from entering one country to another.

Walls have lots of uses.

Some are harmful 

Causing divisions between one country.  Some may not remember but there was great joy and celebration when the Berlin wall (pictured above) was finally torn down and both sides of Germany were reunited, ending decades of ill will against each other.

Now some people are talking about a wall between the USA and Mexico. 

I personally feel this is a bad thing. It's not going to keep any terrorist out.

Why don't we also build a wall between Canada

Oh I know..... No one is afraid that some friendly Canadian is going to invade our country. 

As to why I feel a wall between USA and Mexico is bad is.... We are a Free nation. 

If a wall is built as some would suggest that will be closing us off, we may as well build a wall to the north also.

Build a wall and infringe on the freedom of the USA and we can no longer be considered free.

We the cranky old farts salute you

Ya know I was just thinking of something.
While growing up we all had a car that we tricked out the stereo so we could play our music as loud as we could, and laughed at cranky old people who yelled at us to turn it down. We were the free ones, the peaceful ones, the violent ones.
I think I now understand why.

As we grow older we're less able to stand loud noises: some of us even have PTSD and can not handle any loud noise. Things get on our nerves more easily, things piss  us off more.

We are now the old people that yell "TURN THAT CRAP DOWN"

We want to live what's left of our lives in peace, but we have the next generation that are the loud music players, the partiers, the obnoxious laughers.

We've gotten older and more sensitive to everything around us

....... and one of these times, one of us is going to go out to the loud car in the intersection and PULL THAT GOD DAMN RADIO OUT OF THAT CAR.

can't you tell i'm calling for help.


but go ahead and leave me alone

I am so sick of living

ding dong the witch is dead

And just like that she's gone.   I'm not feeling anything right now but neutral.

Bitter relief

I just found out that my one aunt is dying. My dad is traveling from FL to PA for her last days.

I can't express how much I hate this woman. I'm glad she's dying. I hope she ends up in hell for the way she treated me my entire life.

This is not the same relief as when my mom died. No this is pure hatred. She made me feel like I didn't belong in the family, that I should just be in a ditch somewhere.

I've been waiting for this news for a long time.

I just can't do it.

People always say you have to love yourself.
I just can't.

I'm grossed out by the weight I am. I just want to take a sharp knife and cut all the fat off.
I hate that my blood pressure is so high., I hate that my cholesterol is so high, I hate that I'm in so much fucking pain all day, every day.
I hate how I look, I hate how I feel, I hate me, I really hate me.
So how the hell am I supposed to love myself. I'd be so much better off dead.

I can't love myself. There's nothing good about me at all.

No one can love me. Everyone just leaves.... or runs away.

Kill me now.

Two years gone

So it's now two years since my mother passed.
Still not one tear has been shed.
We were never close and I always held onto some resentment that she abandoned me as a toddler. I have a lot of abandonment issues thanks to that. I have no real feelings pertaining to her passing.
I truly do not miss her. She was a horrible person.
Does that make me a horrible person?

Is the past really in the past?

How do you do it? How do you put all the crap that you were put through behind you? How do you get it out of your head? Keep it from your dreams? Every waking thought dwelling on the whys and where for's of your past.
How do you just stop?
I have no idea. I've been battling what's in my head for years now and the thoughts just won't go away. I can't live like this. I can't keep dwelling on the past, so how the hell do I get past it? How do I get it all out of my head?
Everyone says "Just get over it", "Just let go of the past"
Please tell me how.
Don't tell me to pray, I prayed it would all stop when it was happening it never did. Praying now is pointless. I don't believe in prayer. It's all just false platitudes anyway. My logical mind just can't see it. I want nothing to do with it.
I just want the intrusive, invasive thoughts to get out of my head. They're literally driving me crazy. I hate this.  I want to cut that part of my brain out. I'd rather be stupid than go through this torture all the time.

Mommie issues

My mother
You're supposed to love your mother, right?
Not me. I can't.
I hate her. I think I always have.
She left me when I was tiny. Just up and left, no looking back just gone.
I tried to like her. I tried to live with her 2 separate times. (because I had no choice of where to live)
After my grandmother died, mom and step dad suggested we come here to Michigan to live because there was nothing left for me in Pennsylvania; which was true. I was thrilled. I'd have a chance to get to know the other side of my family. I'd do anything to be useful and indispensable. Little did I know that they'd completely take advantage of my helpful and giving nature.
They all lived in one big house. Mom, step-dad, half sister: her husband and her three boys (all from different men and not the guy she was currently married. It didn't take to long for them to start treating me like garbage. I became the family driver. No matter what I was doing, no matter what time it was; unless I was working I had to drop whatever I was doing and drive them where ever they wanted. No matter what. I was even threatened with violence if I didn't comply or I was given the cold shoulder. Their disdain could cut the air like a knife.
So when I was no longer of use to them because I quit driving and didn't have money to "loan" them I became obsolete. I still had to call her every day or I'd get "the treatment" ignored, dismissed.... etc.
But my life became much more less anxious now that I was no longer dashing all over town doing their errands. It was a relief.
Then mom got cancer and sis got paranoid and stopped calling me and mom couldn't speak. I didn't feel obligated to call over there if that's the way I was being viewed, and I never looked back.
I didn't cry or grieve when she finally passed away. I really didn't care one way or another. Just a vague feeling of freedom and relief. It's been over a year and a half and I haven't heard one thing from anyone on mom's side of the family. Not one single word.
AND I DON'T CARE AT ALL.

You don't have to love or respect your parents if they don't deserve it.

Having a healthy family relationship

This isn't about that at all.

This is a complete guide to a discordant family, or how not to be a holier than thou christian.
My family.... how do I begin?
How do I describe how very much I hate them? (yes this is another family whine post, move a long if you don't want to read it)

I've always felt my birth was a fuck up from the get go. My parents got married for all the wrong reasons. Dad married mom because he felt sorry for her (being an orphan and all) and Mom married him because of his military benefits.  Wrong wrong wrong.
After I was born in San Diego CA. Mom and I were shipped back east to live with Dad's family until his service was over. HAHA boy was that ever a mistake. Mom and the family got along like a mongoose and snakes. NOT VERY WELL AT ALL. They basically hated her because they had no idea who she was and she wasn't from their little universe of known people. They all pretty much married people who went to the same church or had similar interests. Go figure.
Mom was a wild card. No real background. Didn't know Dad for very long. Was a smart ass and cussed up a storm. In white bread christian world that's an absolute NO NO.
Everything was a no no to them. Dancing, drinking, cursing: even mildly. Everything that's wrong with you whether mental or physical can be cured with prayer and reading your bible. Not as extreme as the group that doesn't believe in doctors, but almost as bad. But especially mental issues could be prayed away. I know I got told that my depression could be cured by reading my bible.  I don't think so.

I did not really have a happy childhood. Oh it was normal enough. I played outside, I read everything I could get my hands on, I rode my bike all over the place, climbed trees, skinned knees and elbows, But I never felt accepted or loved by this heavily christian family. I was a mere inconvenience
My mother just up and left on day to never return. Dad tom-catted around for awhile, then married a complete psycho bitch who tried to kill me several times..[pushed down a flight of stairs, strangled, hit about the head with a broom] She even shaved off my waist length hair because she could be bothered to comb it properly. She raised German shepherds and to this day I'm terrified of big dogs because she allowed them to growl and menace me. She even drugged me into a stupor a few times. Not a pleasant woman.

Another of Dad's lady friends also tried to kill me. I was sleeping over and woke up because I couldn't breath. She had placed the pillow over my head and tucked the sheets in tight over the pillow, trapping me underneath. I was inconvenient to everyone. Finally Dad just left me with his parents to raise. I was about 3 years old. I had even in that short amount of time been molested/raped. So I don't have a lot of pleasant memories of any of that. Thankfully those bashes to the head with the broom handle blanked out a lot of my mind. I use to have seizures while eating.... I'd be watching tv, eating my breakfast and just pass out into my bowl. I remember the really big things, like the stairs and the dogs and the shaved head and the beginning of the beating with the broom, but nothing afterwards, suddenly I was living with my grandparents and never saw dad until quite a few years later. I have a lot of issues now with phobias; heights, dogs, things coming at my head, fear of short hair, can't wear anything tight around my neck (thanks to strangling) Still at the age of 55 I have these horrible fears.

Now onto the family. I really think they resented the fact that my grandparents were forced to raise me, being my mother's daughter and all and I just had to be just like her (at 3 years old, yeah right) They never wanted to include me in things but because my grandparents went everywhere I had to go along. I was a burden to them. I was raised in the same church, believed the same things, sang the same songs, read the same bible, yet I was different then them and treated as such. I was never hugged or kissed by any of them. Now you might say that maybe they weren't the kind for public displays of affection, WRONG. They'd hug each other all the time, They'd hug missionaries that visited the church, they'd hug all comers. Just not me. I wasn't worthy of their affections. At family gatherings I was always alone reading in a corner or off somewhere else because no one would talk or play with me. I was left out of everything. Except when it came time to do the dishes from the big dinner. Now if one of my cousins had that job, several others would be in the kitchens helping, washing, drying, giggling, talking...... me I had to do them all by myself. No one offered to help or come chat with me. I was the drudge. I hated family gatherings. They'd all be playing board games with each other and I'd be alone reading or coloring. I wasn't allowed to play with their toys, unless they were playing with them, and even then it was grudgingly.

I just sucked it up and didn't say anything because no one would defend me anyway.
At one such gathering; one of my cousins pulled me aside and said..."We all had a meeting and we have no idea what to do with you if anything would happen to Gram and Pop-pop." I was 13 years old and they were basically saying they'd abandon me to the streets because none of these good christian families would even consider taking me in. NOT ONE.

Later on when my grandfather got too sick to be taken care of at home and was put into a home, they also wanted to put my vital grandmother in there with him. She got mad and and called me (i was living on my own at the time) and asked if I wanted to get a place together because she wasn't going to go into a home. I was in the process of moving and had to delay by one day, my aunt {jeanne} had to gather the rest of my stuff from my apt and I went to pick it up there.She didn't lend a hand at all, and when I asked for a glass of water I knew I'd get some form of lecture. What I got instead was a cold slap into reality of how they felt. "We love you, but......." she didn't finish it because she must have realized it crossed a line. How do you say you love someone then put conditions on it? You don't do that, especially to family members. How do you have that kind of nerve? Love is unconditional. You either do or you don't, there is no but.

I took care of my grandmother for just over 10 years. Near the end I was doing it all including picking up poop because her bowels started to give her problem. I did it all without complaint. I gave her dignity to the end. Yet anytime I needed a break or for what ever issue I had to beg one of her own children to take her for a weekend. Get that? I had to beg for time off .... from taking care of THEIR MOTHER.

The last time Gram stayed with {jeanne} Gram had one of her accidents and pooped on the floor. My aunt immediately stuck adult diapers on her. Saying she couldn't handle it. Weak excuse, I'd been handling it for several months. They just didn't want to be bothered taking care of their mom. So one went the adult diapers and there went Gram's dignity. A week later she died. I always felt it was because of the shame of the diapers. They took her dignity which I had been giving her for 10 whole years. She never would have lasted that long in a nursing home and I think that's what they wanted frankly. So they wouldn't be burdened. Loving christian family.

At the funeral meeting one of my other aunts {martha} had the nerve to say to me "Are you sure it wasn't something you did to cause it?"  I mean WHAT????????

Then got a call from Jeanne later on "We trusted you to take care of our mother"
THEY WERE BASICALLY AND PRETTY BLATANTLY ACCUSING ME OF MURDER. Loving christian family.

What did I ever do to you? What made you hate me so? No I wasn't perfect but I did nothing to be treated like shit other than be born to the wrong person. And abandoned by my own parents to be raised in that kind of animosity.

I HATE THEM AND HATE ANYTHING TO DO WITH RELIGION. If they're the representative of what good christian people are like I never want anything to do with it. I really want nothing to do with religion at all. Thank you. Religion is only used as a weapon of pain and shame.

Just a dream

I have some really funky dreams when I'm in pain or not feeling well.
I just woke up from a nap with the dream still on my brain which means to me it was going to be a whopper.
I've had the kind where my son has shook me awake saying I was screaming or moaning in a strange way. I can pinpoint where in the dream that, that happened.
Most of the screaming dreams are about my family that treated me so horribly. I do not have pleasant memories of my family.

This dream I was still taking care of my Grandmother and we were staying at my one aunt's house. (I hate this aunt most of all) As usual I'm doing all the work around the house plus taking care of Gran. Well one of the cousins was supposed to make dinner and didn't. Of course I got blamed. They made something for themselves and sat around the table eating and gossiping.
I overheard them talking about me, (for some reason I was building a doll house) They all began to laugh and say how I should give up that silly hobby. I stood up and went to confront them only I couldn't speak.

That actually use to happen too. When I needed to stand up for myself I'd be unable to say anything. I now know that it's part of my ASD/SPD. But then it was just embarrassing and they'd mock me for it. I always ended up just crying, and did so in this dream too.

I really hate these dreams. They remind me of how shitty my life growing up was.
It's no wonder that I'm as screwed up as I am.

It explains why I hate myself so much.

The day I nearly lost my mind.

Not that it's a difficult stretch by any means, but....
Again with the doctor's office. I dread doctors offices because there's usually a gathering of most of my triggers in one big room.

It's Cancer and Hematology office so there's all kind of noises. Wheel chairs squeaking, chart carts hustling by, the coughers and sneezers, The usual cacophony of people interacting with each other. Some talking louder so they can be heard above the din, Then there's the mobile IV drip poles.... clunk clunk clunking across the floor.  The automatic door whooshing open and closed. People heading to the cafeteria across the hall and bringing back plates of food (omg the smells)

Just the normal every day triggers that put one on edge just ready to topple over.

And then it happens....... THE PACER. The one person who has to pace back and forth for half an hour around the foyer. Back and forth back and forth back and forth....... *KILL*  And it wasn't a slow pacing step either, it was really rapid.

I tried to avoid looking at him. Not happening.
I tried thinking maybe he has some disorder that makes him restless and he can't settle down, GRRR
Back and forth back and forth back and forth.

Maybe he's just nervous. Some people pace when they're nervous. This is the Cancer center after all.
Back and forth back and forth

OMG STOP PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY, STOP.

And then my name is called and all's well in my quiet little room by myself. Actual doctor visit went smoothly, I need more iron *eye roll*  I finally get my cab ride home after a little wait time; which is nice for a change. But knowing that I have to deal with another doctor visit the next day has me still on that razor's edge.

Only I don't..... I no sooner sat down and the next days doctor office calls to confirm my appt for which I'll need to be sedated. I'm nervous about that but dealing okay....sorta. They tell me I have to have someone drive me there and wait for me through the procedure.

I get rides by cab, I tell her this "Well do you have someone who'll be with you that can make any critical choices in case something happens?"

NO!    All I have is my 28 year old mentally disabled son who would never be able to make any decisions like that.

"You don't have a neighbor or friend that could do it?"

No!

"Then we might not be able to do the procedure I'll have to ask the doctor"

"Is this the same sedative that was used the last time I was there, because my son was waiting for me that time?

"Yes it's the same, but it's policy to have someone responsible on hand, would he be able to make those kind of decisions?"

No.

"Well I'll talk to the doctor, but I doubt we'll be able to do it."  Click and hang up.

WTF MAN???????????????

An hour later she calls back and says the doctor said "NO! we can reschedule for sometime when you have someone responsible."

You can reschedule all you want to it's going to be the same outcome. I HAVE NO ONE.

"I'm sorry there's nothing we can do then, maybe social services can help find someone for you." Click and hang up


DAMMIT YOU WANT ME TO LEAVE MY LIFE IN THE HANDS OF A STRANGER???? NO FUCKING WAY.

I'm not trusting my life to some random stranger. Not happening.

So I ended up with very mixed feelings. Joy that I don't have to endure that procedure, but royally pissed off about the 'restrictions'  

They've gotta take into account that there are a lot of people like me who just don't have any kind of support network backing them up and we need vital testing too.

What about us?

Today was not the day

I just...... ugh .....today.

I'm finding right now I need to stay away from certain sites today. My triggers are tripping all over, yet at the moment I'm calm enough, other than the shaking.
I've been having some major depressive thoughts again, and even worse... found out that sometimes my son thinks about suicide. Not that he'd actually do it but that it's entered his mind. That's distressing.

I've thought about it often enough. I've been in denial for so long, but looking back I'd have to say the thought of death was pretty much always there. Even as far back as age six I realized that I wanted to die. It's funny I always told all my doctors that the thought of suicide had never entered my mind, and that's mostly true. But the idea of just dying or not being has always been there. If I couldn't have a better life than the one I had, I'd rather just die. No one wanted me, no one needed me, Even my parents just up and abandoned me. My grandparents raised me but I never felt like I was wanted there.

But not today.

Maybe it's just the melancholia of the upcoming holiday's. I don't celebrate. Any of them. I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything. Yet I can't help but feel a bit of nostalgia for the old days. Yeah they never really wanted me there, but I was. I had some good food, occasionally got let into conversations, or I'd just catch a hint at one and chuckle quietly only to be glared at for daring to listen to them.  I wasn't invited to play the games, and hated watching the sports. I'd sit somewhere quiet and read to myself. No one bothered me, no one asked what I was reading, they didn't care because it wasn't bible centered. I wanted more out of reading.

Yet it's still there. I want to die.

I'm alone. But I have a son and a kitten. It still feels alone, unwanted, unwelcome.  I'm tired. I don't wish to exist. I have to go on though.

Growing up feeling so unloved and unwanted was hard, but I'm still here. Even if sometimes I don't want to be.

Today I'm full of confusion. I kinda miss those family get togethers not for the way that I was treated, but just to share with other people. The comradery, the sharing. The tables laden with food. I've cut that part out of my life.

People fill me with fear, they're judgmental, they're liars, they try to shove their beliefs onto you. I don't want to live that life. I don't want to live any sort of fake life.

Maybe someday, but this is not the day.

Views from a Doctors office.

I casually strolled into my doctor's office the other day. High on the joy of being able to wear heels again after an astonishingly long 10 year span.

They're dated because I haven't worn anything but flats for such a long time, because I have a crumbling spine. DDD, osteo-arthritis, spinal stenosis, collapsing discs between the vertebra, with bone on bone pain.

But I thought "WHAT THE HELL?" It's just to my doctor's office, only a little walking needed. I won't be in the heels more than 2 hours.

It was amazing. I felt more confident and taller. So much taller. I'm tiny (5'2") and round (but I'm losing some of that)

So as I'm waiting I notice my usual SPD, Misophonia and shades of Irlen syndrome ticks kicking in. Out of the corner of my eye I see her: the hair twirler, chatting away on her smart phone in between chomps of gum. 

Then I notice the snifflers starting, a few coughs, throat clearing, nose blowing noises. The lights are dim but numerous which counters the effect of the dimness. I can't read magazines under these circumstances.  And then the worse.... it starts gently, quietly...... the cacophony of noise as a mass group of people begin to chat. They're discussing religion and choirs and such. Not an unusual topic really for a Cancer center. What ever gives you peace of mind, right?  

Well not me. I hate this type of conversation passionately. As I've said numerous times before I was raised in that type of environment and glad to have gotten out alive as one would say. I find these topics distressing as I've run away from organized religion as fast as I was able to go.  Others may find peace, but I just see the meaningless of it all. It's literally running on blind faith in something created by man.

Time to plug in my MP3 player to drown out the noise behind me. But then I can't hear if they call my name. So one ear plugged up and one out, trying not to let the babble behind me work under my skin as it so often does.  

It's also now about 45 minutes past my appt time. Finally I get called back and wait in the tiny room for another  ..................um 45 minutes. 

So here it is an hour and a half past my appt time and I'm getting frustrated beyond belief. I'm not a patient patient. I hate being left to wait.

Finally released from doctor care with a 'free from cancer' clearance. Down stairs a player grand piano is tinkling away softly in the lobby.  MP3 time again.  Almost in the clear until a woman in a wheelchair starts moaning and mumbling. It grows in volume as they usually do. Soon she's nearly screaming and flopping her arms around.  Her transportation soon comes and whisks her away, but I'm left thinking. Her outbursts didn't bother me as much as most other noises. Why?   Perhaps that one little rational part of my mind that's usually overcome by sound and visual stimulation realizes that the poor woman simply can't help what she's doing. There's something faulty in her wiring and I can deal with that because I'm wired wrong myself. Who knows perhaps I'll end up being her. No one knows.Oddly enough I'm able to ignore all but her most vocal outbursts. But I don't give the same leeway to others who make noises and sights that trigger me into a meltdown. Their habits and outbursts are controllable to some extent.  A baby crying doesn't know better but the pitch and volume of their screams assault my hearing and overload my senses. The running uncontrolled child being ignored by it's tuned out parents is still a controllable situation. The hair twirler: unconsciously done gets a half pass, but the gum chomping and cell phone use that's controllable, and unnecessary. The god fanclub behind me, while annoying could have kept it down. Their enthusiasm got the best of them. Understandable to an extent, but non the less annoying. 

Doctor appt survived with a few mini meltdowns. But I guess knowing that my blood is also now cancer free is good. They're still trying to find out why I'm so anemic despite being on an iron supplement.

I really dislike going out because it's always so painful. I'm just glad that my time in public is limited to doctor appts and grocery shopping. 

Something I HATE

I hate when others will tell you "Others have it worse than you."   Ya know what? Fuck you. Someone else may or maybe not having it worse does not negate what I'm feeling.

This is one of the reasons I don't post a lot of my problems on FB. There's always that one who's gotta throw that tired, overused line out there.

First of YOU do not have any idea what all I'm going through. You don't know what silent, invisible illness's diseases and syndromes I personally deal with.

This is actually a very mean thing to say to someone who's a chronic illness sufferer. Each person's own personal struggle with what ails them is their own private hell. You don't compare it to someone else. No matter if it's true that someone else has it worse. When you tell a person that you are making them feel little and unloved, not special. It's saying that what you're dealing with doesn't matter, after all someone has it so much worse.

Don't you think we know that? Maybe that's why a lot of chronic sufferers don't open up about what's all wrong with them. They don't want to be judged, they want a little understanding.

Don't be so dismissive. Understand that we know very well there's others that are worse off. We care but we're more concerned with our own personal misery and just want some simple understanding.

It's not fair to make that comparison.

Weird side problems with SPD

I think..... I don't know I'm still figuring this out.

My son always wants to get me gifts for the holiday, I tell him it's not necessary but he insists. This year I found a solution. Buying coffee cups on ebay. I've gotten a couple of nice ones so far and they're tucked away in the closet to be wrapped later.

But I've hit a snag.  I'm finding some triggering things that made me sit back and go "HMMMM!!!!"

I'm looking for a specific type of mug. Abstract or floral patterns are great. Ones with company logo's are fine. I can not abide the ones with faces on them. The ones in the shape of jolly santa, or shaped like a fish where you'd have to drink out of the mouth...... UMMM NO.... even the ones with cartoon characters make me uncomfortable.

Looking back I can see that I've always had plain or floral pattern ones and strictly stayed away from any 'face' type mug. I never knew why, now I do.   I think this goes along with the SPD pattern.  I hate to see people eating and  the sounds bug the hell out of me. I avoid looking at people eating it's gross. But to drink my coffee out of those type mugs   NO WAY IN HELL.  

I'm getting upset and flustered looking for the right kind of mug for cripes sake.  I don't like being like this.