If you search for “boy mom” on the web.. you’ll find results about a rising trend on TikTok and other Reel-like platforms about a stereotypical mother… that’s also their identity.
The Boy-Mom in the Autism World… the infamous Autism Mom
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Category Archives: 2022: #OutspokenAutistic (April ’22 – Present)
Can Traumatic Brain Injury Cause Personality Defects?
Last week, the old woman was in a way teasing about her injuries to her head in her life. What surprised me was “that was before you were born, then after you were born”. I knew about a few of her potential concussions, but not the couple of situations after I was born.
It lead me to think, and I didn’t make any remarks, because in this case if I was the one making the joke, the joke would be on her because she takes everything to heart.
Can traumatic brain injuries or TBI cause personality defects?
I say “defects” because I believe that defects or “disruptions” cause a blockage to a healthy and happy relationship, or cause toxic situations, mixing the fingerprints of inability to empathize, minimize other’s reality, though will play the victim when they aren’t validated, and or have very polarizing emotions one moment, and turn the other moment, and completely black out or pretend it never existed then come off antagonistic.
But either narcissistic personality disorder or borderline personality disorder is not learned, it’s made. I am not diagnosing my mother to the world, nor do I settle on either one, but it’s a mix of both. I am also at the stage where I know what I am getting into, and walk away from the situation the reason why I am in my living areas (my bedroom or basement media production room) maybe a tell tale sign maybe I don’t want to be around you.
What still mildly angers me is why, just why the Fraud on Broad Street or other professionals who saw the toxic behaviors that people perceived of me, not realize my mother could be the same? If anything when the folks did hold my mother to account, they felt she was enabling my situational toxic traits, even if I had to live with her and I had to unlearn them…
You can’t involuntary push someone into therapy, or get help, the only thing I suggest, is to radically accept someone who may not be bad person, but a persona that can highly bombastic, but to not personalize the personality. For those individuals they blur them. You can point their behaviors out in a conversation using the dictionary definition without using the words, and obviously don’t expect people to change, something that female SPED professionals clearly never get.
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On Reserves (August – September 2023)
Just over a couple weeks taking a 2 night stay in Keene, my grandmother started to develop her issues that resulted her untimely death in late September. For more than 1/2 of August, she had stayed at the nearby hospital. The 2nd stay was for 2 straight weeks going into September. Then not only 4 days later, she got brought via ambulance, then was basically on her death bed, unbegntost to us, then about a week later (would’ve been a day earlier but due to the alleged storm that was Hurricane Lee, the homebound trip via a private ambulance, and little would I know that it would be three days later she’d be gone.
This narrative is not about my grandmother, but I am not also trying to come off as a victim or whining. This story is what happens when you have no one else to fall on, but then you become someone else’s “rock”, being the default manly figure, to a guy that’s already been depleted. Hence, why I refer this to being “on reserves”.
Concurrently Grieving With a Maladaptive Mother…
My mother has not handled Gram’s death with grace all the time, but what can you expect? Sure it’s going to be a roller coaster, but sadly my mother’s pre-existing, but undiagnosed style of behavior is becoming really apparent in the months that has followed.
The Appearance of a Potentially Deadly Outburst
My mother comes off as short-circuiting, will become extremely emotionally, on the fly basically and earlier this week, I was scared for my life, afraid of becoming a Thanksgiving accident statistic as she was on a road rage of someone allegedly cutting her off, when she was in a mood of a rage of what happened in late summer to her mother. She was stubbornly believing she as in the right as she had the right of way; what really scared me was when she was tailgating, and wasn’t mitigating any potential rear-end collision – no she was so enraged that the other driver didn’t respect her right of way (even when she was in her tunnelvision)
She goes on the highway and literally follows the car, she ordered me to take down the license plate number, and when she decided the car was going towards Nashua, she took the exit past home and tried to instigate reax from the driver as she was staring at them, as if they did something so wrong.
Video: “I Have No Friends”
This video deserves the least amount of words. This 1/4 century year old known as Girl in a Blue Dress is not that far away from where yours truly is based. The video was recorded after the Dartmouth school year of 2022. She also mentions “Hampton” in this clip. Yesterday, this video accelerated as YouTubers Aba and Preach (who often critiques the “red pill”) threw a lot of opinions that wasn’t necessary.
I made my own comments. I feel so bad, though I can relate but I have my own struggles
Midlife Crisis (Assuming the stats are right)
It came to me not only that this coming year, I am eclipsing my majority of my life as an adult (so yeah “young men” or “young women” could be used as late as 35 in my opinion)… that it could easily be my mid life crisis.
Why?
Well if a higher functioning IDD guy, that my mortality is closer than other people in my life. For the first time ever, the US lifespan is going down, from 80 to lower ages. Most people with ASD or other types of profound IDD, will live at least 15 to 20 years younger than their typical peers, according to the anti-vaxxers that push out this information.
I could be gone from any point from likely in the next 30 years, that would lead me to be in my mid 60s (jesus!) to potentially 70. I’ve noticed I gained 10 pounds since my last read most likely in the spring time, and my diet has been the same, and my physical activity has been the same. Given that the stressors of loosing my grandmother recently has made everything around me not matter.
But prior to September, I had been really rebelling aging, I’ve lost so much in confusion, anxiety and anger, all in the hot mess that is ASD.
So yeah, I could very well be in a midlife crisis at a ripe young age of 36 years old.
Transgenderism – Is this not seen properly?
There is not a day that goes by where people are whining and bitching about transgenderism, that the schools are turning guys into girls, it’s the media, it’s freckin TicTok that’s doing it! Ooo the outrage!
Or is it that feminism rejects men at all costs? What about living in a red state (hell it’s purple, with red pockets here and there) where right of center women just ride the coattails of the liberating movement? Or is it lefties who just can’t trust ’em?
Life Update
First off…
https://www.instagram.com/p/Cxngq-KuakY/
My gram has passed away on September 20th, a day before the fall solstice where it was her favorite time of year, it would’ve been 3 weeks to her 83rd birthday.
This extended a month and a half of emotional dysregulaia (I know it’s not a word, but you get-it). Yes for sure, my life is not going to be always perfectly normal and there’s always going to be a normal day.
my mental health has been a bit unstable, but I wouldn’t say extreme either. The emotions has been really raw, because the way my grammie passed away was not what I was living in some fear in the last few years. But on the other side, I kinda knew my gram was on even more borrowed time than in early August. But it came out nowhere too. (More on this at a later time.)
Re-De with the local DHHS
I am saying this loosely, even for high functioning autistics, people like me need to have benefits… because I am not enough work wise too.
The annual re-determination process (aka re-de) is in August, where my mother has to file the annual paperwork to say I am totally and permanently disabled and we have to supply the state the last checking and savings monthly statement, etc. Because my mother neglected a certain detail that changed this year, I did not get my bi-monthly benefits beginning in September.
my mother tried to call the office one time in early September but because I didn’t fill the consent to talk, it further delayed. We tried calling the office again later in the month and was on hold for nearly 20 minutes.
Despite the Cisco CallManager on-hold music, it got my mother really anxious. My grandmother was dying to be blunt.
Last Wednesday, we went to our local DHHS office, and much to my chagrin, there was no wait, my name was the only one on the digital display, and for all intensive purposes, we were applying for benefits (aka it was like being 18 all over again with the paperwork.) However that part got expietitied because of the long term supports (i.e. my day services connection.) My mother did apply for Food Stamps because other benefits in a re-de last year shrunk because of a misunderstanding of how the funds were supposed to be used.
Obviously, I do not want to share the details, nor embellish it. I do want to say there is some shame living with a pre-existing autistic condition. That’s explained in a follow up phone meeting on Friday.
Hellllo Fall 2023: Depleted, Burnt Out, Unable to Function
https://www.instagram.com/p/Cx3QioEu3hn/
In March, I was really in a down moment in my life. I was turning 36, and I am inching closer to 40 with nothing to relate to with my peers, unless it’s those peers that are in the same boat! Yes, because feeling the very same feels will turn all boats.
My mother is going through intense grief, while I have been identified as her “rock”. And it wasn’t the first time me or others heard that uttered. Not to mention I started elementary school in 1993, 30 years to the day last month. Given my grandmother’s grave state, I was unable to reflect, and given that I had traveled to Londonderry (or around there) about a handful of times after her passing, it set the trauma markets of feeling like I was not enough by any means, and I was just that resource-room kid who they felt I was not as equal to them.
my present therapist is antsy, often over generalizing, over sympathizing what is not in reality, because that individual doesn’t look at individual cases, not to mention US English isn’t their native tongue. My mother had gotten blindsided with the monthly benefits, so we need to turn the clock to when I was 18 and re-apply for eligibility; only because of a mismatch in paperwork,
Politically I am scared to death because “we are one election away” from an extremist who hates Massachusetts. Not to mention everything I have discussed over the last year in a half with politicians trying to regulate tolerance through preaching intolerance.
I feel like a goddamned misfit. I feel like in the state I live in “freedom” only applies to a handful of people with very little accountability, and responsible people are paying for those groups’ freedoms. Average men are treated as creeps!
No one understands the pain I have to absorb and right now I do not have any support people to help me with my cognitive differences. People who are reading is like “well you’re so high functioning, how can you not understand?
I was home alone on and off for almost a month and a half by no ones fault of their own; however I was really unable to discuss what was going on. Therapy sessions had to be on Zoom. I was trying to keep calm and carry on, but now I can’t even fucking cry!
The warning signs goes as far back as 2018 into 2019, I needed many hands as possible, and guess, what? my mother has to take the emotional burden of what I had to go through.
DSM-IV era autism is not as common as people think. Not too many people get-it, they think my father should’ve parented me instead, and fuck me up in a different way.
I am drained, my bandwidth has been maxed out, and I can’t process anymore. What’s next, other individuals feeding me their emotional stimuli that I can’t process.
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