roses

roses

Sunday, February 25, 2018

Nope, still not better yet.

When I saw the doctor a few weeks ago, he and I agreed that if I wasn't feeling better I should come back in. It was about my fall in January. We figured it was a 50% chance that I had bruised my ribs or fractured one. Deciding that since the course of treatment was the same either way, I didn't go for x-rays. So, here I am at the point when I should be feeling healthy and hale, in moderate pain with out Aleve and it gets worse when I work the muscles on my right side. Lifting a full gallon of milk is uncomfortable but anything more still hurts.

I guess I fractured something. I have a follow up appointment scheduled on the 6th. This will be one of the things I bring up. I'm rather vexed because it is difficult to go about my daily tasks with only my off hand for heavy work. You can't lift a basin full of water with just one hand and pour it effectively. Well, you could pour it but have no control over it. Laundry is just in bags about because lifting and moving it around is really hard unless I am doing a few items at a time.

I'm frustrated and feeling like I'm not doing enough. I am in that situation my tarot cards warned me about in December. I am the Hanged Man and the 5 of Swords. I'm in a point of stasis and it is driving me half mad with boredom. To top it off, I am struggling to focus enough to get things done because I keep getting distracted by all the other stuff that NEEDS to get done. (Emphasis by my anxiety.)

So, what do you do when you can't keep fighting? I guess it is surrender or attack in the opposite direction. But retreat isn't exactly an option here. I suppose it is surrender. One of the few benefits out of this mess is that my posture has improved. The only way I am comfortable is if I sit or stand with a properly erect spine. I can only lie on my left side, which has helped some with the heartburn issues, I guess. I can't do my morning yoga and, strangely, I miss it. I can't go walking of late between the weather and discovering that if I have to use my cane for a significant period of time, my ribs hurt. (My knees have been really bad this week.)

I know there's some kind of lesson here. I'm not sure exactly how to apply it or just what it is. Fighting this and attempting to be a stoic about it all is just causing real pain here. So, I'm going to stop doing that. I don't know what to do, though. This is all very disconcerting for so many reasons.

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

Tide Pods and other noxious things.

I promised you a rant on the Tide pod challenge. It is part of the reason why I have been avoiding social media. There has been quite a few people posting memes about this. I recognize gallows humor. It stopped being funny a while ago, but the memes keep happening. The kids keep doing this and dying. It sickens me to see people laughing about children dying due to social pressure. That's what's driving the Tide pod challenge and a lot of the other assinine challenges out there. Similar things went on when I was that age. It didn't spread as quickly but it was still a thing and people did stupidly dangerous things to prove they were part of the crowd.

However, those stupidly dangerous things weren't lethal. Those stupidly dangerous things weren't being broadcasted for the whole world to watch. This would be like watching a group of kids playing russian roulette with an actual firearm, not a nerf gun, and when the likes for the feed hits a critical number, they load another bullet for the lulz. I carefully monitor my children's access to the internet to keep them away from this kind of garbage because they are the kids who'd be pressured into it due to how much they want to be friends with everybody. How many other children don't have parents who are able to do this for them? What of that number have died or been severely injured due to stuff like the Tide pod challenge? I'd lay odds that a good number of the dead and injured due to this meme are ones that their parents thought that Youtube was harmless.

The Tide pod challenge isn't the only thing that bothers me about popular memes right now. There's some stupid ones out there. That's not really a problem as much of an annoyance. But the memes that make fun of people with autism or treats people with mental disability as though they are subhuman really, really bother me. They dehumanize these people. Progressive dehumanization or othering of an already vulnerable part of the population is a step towards greater oppression of said group. If it was acceptable, I'm sure that such memes would be posted about African Americans by people who seem to think that Donald Trump* is a good person based on what I've seen said by that segment of the population with respect to former President Obama.

We are living in times where Immigrations and Customs Enforcement are stopping Amtrack trains outside of Syracuse (a city that is known for salt potatoes and their basketball for the most part) and demanding to see papers proving citizenship. They're waiting at schools and places of employment to pick up potential illegal immigrants. Families are making plans for what to do if parents are picked up while kids are at school. There is an underground railroad smuggling people out of the United States to points elsewhere to seek asylum.

And yet, we should be happy with our bread and circuses. We should laugh as children are pressured to kill themselves. We should shrug off one child calling ICE on another as a prank or youthful indiscretion. (That one ended well, thank gods, the child who had ICE called on them and their family were not harassed because they had the good fortune of having all of their paperwork in hand. And the child who did that call got expelled for it.) We should look away when transgendered people are murdered for the mere offense of living. We should be hyped up about the winter olympics but not offended by the fact that school shootings are in double digits already.

If my anger and concerns about such things makes me a helicopter parent, then I'm not that fun/annoying news helicopter that's telling you about rush hour traffic. I'm the armored assault helicopter that's air support for my troops on the ground. I haven't figured out how to deal with it all yet, but if someone comes at my kids, they're going down. School yard fights happen and that is why we're teaching them how to finish a fight if it starts but to never start one. The other side of things, adults fucking around causing my children problems, I will find away to destroy them utterly. Once I thought I could count on the community to help. Now, I find my people and we fight for each other because the bonds of community have broken.

If they hadn't broken, this mess wouldn't be here. We'd be taking care of each other and nobody's babies would be dying because someone told them they had to eat poison to be popular.

Med changes suck. (and other stuff)

I'm at that point in the process of adjusting to a new medication that I'm starting to get my feet under me again. I'm grouchy and stressed out because I can't do my usual things (or I don't remember doing them and feel like I still have to do them).  And I'm still dealing with the exhaustion that comes with this one. It's improving, but feeling like I have to take a nap every day or go to bed early sucks. I don't get much alone time if I am not up in the morning and going during the school day because the kids are ALWAYS there.

Just a few minutes ago, I had the audacity to go use the bathroom and my youngest was wandering around shouting for me. Earlier, my eldest followed me to the bathroom talking about the box-fort firehouse he wants to build just like the one he saw on a Youtube video. He literally stood outside the door talking at me until I called out that I wanted to go potty in peace. Then he walked off, trying to talk to his brother who was on the complete other side of the apartment and couldn't hear him. This is just an everyday thing.

But, taking a two hour nap in the morning this morning robbed me of writing time. I spent my whole afternoon working on finances (and I got about half of the stuff I planned to do there done). When I wasn't doing that, I was doing dishes so that I could make dinner. And managing the kids. Here it is, almost 7 in the evening, I wish Beloved was home. I just want to have another grown adult to talk to about something other than plans to build stuff this summer, facts about the Titanic, firetrucks, or yard work equipment.

Tomorrow, we go see the folks at the autism center. I have a feeling that I'm not going to be the only one whose meds will be changed this month. My eldest has the moodiness and attitude that has Beloved and I convinced he is hitting the leading edge of puberty. And the youngest keeps having more attention problems and he is eating less. I don't know how any of this is going to change with the medications or honestly how to cope with it.

I'm exhausted from constantly trying to stay one step ahead of them. I have to out plan and out maneuver them on a regular basis to keep them safe. My youngest still has days where he tries to climb the unsecured bookcases. I worry about them getting into medications and thinking they are candy. I tell them they can't get into these things and they should only have them when we give it to them. But they are getting to that age that they're going to have the manual dexterity and possible inclination to get into those child safe bottles. And that terrifies me.

I've done my best to keep them unaware of the existence of the Tide Pod challenge because they'd try it. Just because they would think it was a thing that they were supposed to do. It is part of the reason why the Tide Pod challenge makes me so angry. I'll rant about that later. But, right now, I'm afraid for the safety of my kids because they're starting to get into things again. The youngest really, really wants to clean things like I do. He's taken to trying to clean the bathroom mirror. Kinda sweet, kinda cute, and kinda terrifying because he doesn't know what bottle is the cleaner or to clear all the stuff that goes in our mouths off of the counter top before cleaning. I'm seriously thinking about getting those child locks for the door of the cupboard. Or, if it fits through the fancy loop on the double door opening, a padlock.

I don't know what to do, but it has to be something. Because I want to keep them safe. My anxiety is pretty well justified on this front. It is exhausting. I'm always listening and looking out for trouble. I strive to give my boys their independence. At the same time, they've got developmental delays that put them a bit behind their peers. As such, my 3rd grader is in many ways like a kindergarten student. So, I have to keep close tabs on him. And my 5th grader is about a year behind in other ways.

Most of my friends are childless. The number of friends who have kids on the autism spectrum is fairly small. We try to be supportive of each other as much as Facebook and my social phobia allows. But it is hard because they're all over the map (quite literally) and only a few are local. It is hard to talk about this stuff because so many people say 'oh, I know!' when they really don't know. Yeah, my kids have fears of the dark like others their age. But the loud gurgling of our fucked up bathroom sink, the noise of the hot air hand dryers, and loud stuff like thunder and fireworks are going to be terrifying to the boys too.

Most kids may jump a bit and then be ok. Hell, a lot of kids get excited by loud noises. Mine have sound sensitivities that makes them have difficulty with a lot of things. I think the only reason why we didn't have meltdowns to deal with in the firetruck rides was because the obsession with firetrucks overpowers the sound sensitivity to some extent. (Every chance they get to visit the fire station, climb in a fire truck, and hang out with the firefighters, they jump for. They love those people. Hence part of the reason why they want to build a box-fort firehouse.)


Monday, February 05, 2018

Ranting ahead.

I'm sick and tired of being depressed. It's crept into every damn element of my day. Now, I can't get much writing done unless it is therapy related or my memoir/novel/whatever-it-is-today. I get maybe a paragraph done and then I find myself on the verge of crying. Change topics and it happens again. This is stupid and I want it to stop.