Combined written WordPress of 13 + years of writing on ASD and the Granite State. Do not visit, Do not Move here, GTFO as I wish the Granite State to be cursed with Shame!
This could vary from literally being post-hopelessness or regressing backwards during the day. The former is the aspiring, but the former always creeps in. Like with any disability, an “invisible” one is an ongoing challenge, under reported, undervalued, and worse underappreciated. Also talks about recovering from narcissistic abuse is discussed in detail.
Tomorrow (or late tomorrow as I was born less than an hour before Friday the 13th, 37 years ago) will be my birthday. A few weeks ago, I was going to go low key because the last couple of years was extremely uncomfortable, and I just let it slide. My other took time off work, and I actually just kindly negotiated doing 1/2 day on Saturday and yesterday a full day today going to the mountains, as it was cold and snowy, the cold will stay up there tomorrow just without snow.
As you know, I’m a snow angel!
I know I am seen (sometimes in a creepy way from mama-bear types), I want to only be seen by pretty ladies, and be heard by virtually everyone else. That’s all I want at this point. I’ll be nice on my mother’s birthday, Mother’s Day or hell even Father’s Day and my Gram’s birthday even if she’s not with us physically. I don’t want to share the attention and sympathy anymore. It’s my day dammit!
Welcome to New Hampshire, a state where you’d think it being so extremists, you wouldn’t think that feminism is very popular around dark-red Republican women, and you wonder why they are so skittish? Why is there a fetishizing of victimization? Before I spoil you the details, the video part is here.
If you prefer to hear this in your car audio system, you can visit podcasts.clickfo.me
I got sick again for the second time in just over a couple months. I got infected late last Friday, and I’m still really tired and stuffy.
As it approached the fifth month of my grandmother passing away, there’s been more uncertainty. My mother has not taken the loss well. Some of her behaviors noticed early on she has apparently reflected on. One of the reasons why she said to me in direct phrase “been a homebody” was she was afraid of something happening to her and I’d be fully alone. She also doesn’t feel mother’s presence. She’s even contemplated selling the house.
My mother still hasn’t reached out for support from the hospice care. I did find things that would’ve been useful for her, but this is the hyper-strong female choses, is stubborn to try to grieve a bit more better. Instead, she results in other acquaintances acting as their therapist while my mother tells the complete play by play story including the hospice’s front desk lady’s name in her stories.
Her work environment is not that healthy either. A co worker whose got an annoying personality is becoming an injustice. My mother’s work ethic is her own curse. It’s hard for her to emotionally detach from. If the person has annoying personality, but is doing more worse stuff, annoying habits shouldn’t be the most outrage.
Later this month will mark the 6th month mark. I’m already preparing for the worse.
earlier this morning, I made my rounds to check in with my mother downstairs as she’s marking nearly 4 years of Working from Home. Checking in to verify if we were going to do the lunchtime errands.
Then she just stared at me with some strange sympathetic. or some long face.
I think I asked if she was OK and said she didn’t have breakfast yet.
(she never has good breakfast anyways.)
I told her as a matter-of-a-fact I was going back to my bedroom and start with my work.
Today is Valentine’s Day. For more than a decade here… or other places, on or off here; Valentine’s Day is really depressing. I don’t like to be angry. I’m as angry as radical feminists and red-pill men that put all of us into a bind and into greater hopelessness of romance. I’ll singe out people like Liz Plank on the feminists and I’ll throw “Myron Gaines” the alleged gay soyboy host of Fresh & Fit, and maybe the tomboy, perhaps lesbo “Women Shouldn’t Vote” Pearl Davis. All these types of specimen are like a kamikaze, whose going to crash first and take everyone down to hell with them?
Recently, a family friend in the north end of town’s father passed away. the friend was once my mother’s co worker, and has a son with ASD, higher functioning, but unlike me, is less verbal. Pay attention to the phrase “higher” functioning. I’ve not seen the family in ages, dates back prior to the pandemic as well.
Thursday was wild. My mother went into a very mind numbing breakdown. On Friday she owned-up and recovered and we opened up. And she also even admitted selling the house because she sees my grandmother in the house still. By yesterday, my mother looked at the Lock Screen of me holding my grandmother in the hour or two following her passing.
She as a bit erratic last night. Today, as well-anticipated Super Bowl is near, my mother is binge watching CSI (ironically that takes place in Las Vegas).) Just before 1:00 was there anything on the on screen guide of any NFL Films documentaries of the two teams like would air when I would watch the Bowl for the Patriots. But when i tuned to CBS, I found a documentary on the history of their long time pre-game show The NFL Today. Well produced, I came right down at 1:05 to check and she had no interest when I came down the stairs in excitement, she thought it some real breaking news.
Because my mother’s lack of self regulation, we were supposed to play a board game and sure I could’ve checked in to be clear (and not assume, which is very signature of co-dependent relationships), but she looked like she wasn’t interested in that either.
I would excuse my mother, but if I was to quantify these episodes in the last 20 years, I’d go into the low four figures. To say I cannot be annoyed or inconvenienced at my age in my life would make the older people in my life a bit childish on their part. yes, my grandmother fucking died, and she was only in hospice for less than 72 hours. Sure the American healthcare system sucks, but does that mean that I am supposed to be subjected to already alleged-borderline personalities and the menopause factor?
It’s been only 20 or so weeks following the unfortunate, the sudden but slowed death of my loved one impacted me but you never hear me make it a justification of emotional unavailability. My mother isn’t home emotionally and the living room is also her bedroom for the forcesable future. A room where you can’t put your emotions at the door because that’s also where you sleep.
For those who are keeping tabs, she hasn’t seek out help. Relying on books and Meta fan pages to rationalize her grief, parasocial connections is helping her carry on as I still feel lonely going through this myself.
I’ve beaten up the lies and bullshit of Community Based Supports for the longest time for people who age out of SPED and land into the adult services world and how SPED is more stereotypically a welfare state than services with the “Medicaid” name.
What the hell is a “community”? How much should “family” be as a support system? Is the “community” inclusive or exclusive and private and isolated? The hell does it really mean practically?
The Blue App kills communities!
The inability to network IRL, to get a job, to meet new people was put on a heavy burden, but then I realized while I was being gaslit, defamed and often slandered in “confidential” documents, by hack rich white folks, like that fucking DINO, I realized the hard way, it was the “community” that failed. Continue reading →
Earlier today my mother starts with what I used to say she “used too many words”… but the more articulate self in the last couple of years rephrased it as “too much dialogue”.
