mental health

Memories vs Reality

Autism, Daily Life, Family, Musings, , , , , One comment

Throughout my life I have done and seen many things. I have some great memories. I have amazing memories of going places. I have wonderful memories of meeting people. I have memories that are not accurate. I have memories that nobody else has.

This always baffled me growing up. I remember experiencing a lot of things, or being told things. I remember seeing things happening. I remember things happening to me. But when I asked people about them. nobody else remembers, or they remember it extremely different.

Tire Swing

Probably the most prominent one is the Tire Swing incident. When I was very young we moved around town a lot. My Mom and Dad had separated when I was still in diapers. So Mom moved to the City nearby. One of the places we lived at was a white condominium. There were 4 buildings all arranged in a rectangle, leaving a kind of paved courtyard in the middle. The courtyard had space at two corners for cars to enter and drive around inside. This happened before My Mom married my step father.

The other 2 corners had space for people to walk through. I remember one corner had a tire swing set up. The tire swing was one where the tire was laying horizontal. It was attached by 4 chains to a central pivot in the frame. The tire could spin or swing.

I don’t remember how old I was exactly when we moved here. But I was lower elementary age. probably 6 or 7 years old. I do remember clear as a bell that one day I was on the swing. I think two of my brothers were, there. Some older boys came in through the corner path, and saw me on the swing. I can still see the face of one of the boys. He had curly light brown hair. They grabbed the swing and spun it as fast as they could go.

I flew off the swing at top speed because I could not hold on. I tried my hardest, but it was just not in the cards for me. As I flew off, I hit the speckled wall. These buildings had little bits of quartz or white rock as a weather proofing sticking out of them.

I hit the wall. and most of the boys ran off. I blacked out. Somebody carried me home.

This did not happen, according to my family.

Apparently, I did have an incident on a tire swing like this, while in upper elementary. I was across the street at the school. This was after we had finally managed to buy a house. My mom and stepfather had been married a number of years at this point.

In the version everyone else remembers, but I do not. I was at the school across the street, (I should have been 11 or 12 at this point). Some bigger boys, probably High School students came through the school grounds. They spun the tire swing really fast as before and I flew off of the swing. But instead of hitting the gravel-ridden building wall, I hit the metal frame of the tire swing.

huh.

Mom’s had Enough.

Another situation that I can remember is different. I believe we were at the condominiums that I mentioned before. Mom was still trying to put her life back together. She was preparing for a date, and of course us boys were being crazy. There were four of us, so we were loud. But I don’t remember being loud or bad. I remember being in the living room.

I remember clearly Mom getting so frustrated. Eventually she had enough and threatened to leave us there, never to return. She stepped outside when she said this. She had not even gone to the curb when she came back to apologize.

This memory is carved in my mind. To this day, I get anxious seeing children take advantage of their parents. The feeling is worse when I see parents losing their temper at their kids.

Never happened, according to my family.

I love my mom. As a father I can sympathize as to how stressed she would have had to have been to say that. But apparently, my Grandmother had done this very same thing. Mom had never told us about it until I brought up my memory. She had promised herself to never pull that on her own kids because grandma had done it.

Head Full of Tubes.

As a child I remember mom telling me clearly about when I was a baby. Mom told me about how when I was born there was something wrong. I remember being told that I had a swelling on my brain or something on the day I was born. Mom told me that the doctors had rushed me off to intensive unit. I was told that they had to put tubes into my head. These tubes were to relieve pressure on my brain. If they had not relieved the pressure, I would have died.

Not only did this conversation never happen, but I did not have tubes in my head as a baby.

I have more memories that are seemingly false too. To this day, I am not 100% sure of my long term memory. There are a lot of things from my childhood that might still turn out to be false. I don’t know. I will hold onto these memories tightly even if they are not real. They are part of me. These memories that I have helped shape me into who I am, even if they are not true.

What makes me worried the most is that I do have family that has difficulty with the same issues. Memories of things that didn’t happen. But their memories are much more recent, and they are not always convinced that the memory is false. I worry about them. I also have fears that this could be my future.

Routines: falling into or making them?

Autism, Daily Life, Musings, Original, , , , , , , One comment

Routines are a very important part of life for me, and for all autistics. Th difference between routines and schedules is blurred for many people. For us, however, there is an obvious difference, and when routines and schedules clash, headaches occur.

So first let’s explain what I mean by both Routines and Schedules before we continue. A routine is an action repeated in a certain order on a regular basis. the actions do not have a set time to begin or end.

My daily drinks are a routine; Every morning, I have a coffee with or just after breakfast. I then bring a mug of hot chocolate with me to work. Hot drinks calm me down, and help me relax and think. On a tough day, my hot chocolate doesn’t last. I must then get a mocha from the cafe on campus. Then in the evening after dinner, when the children have gone to bed, I have a lemon tea.

A schedule dictates the times things begin and end. Period one begins at 8:20, and ends at 9:05. No exception.

I have a love-hate relationship with schedules. First: I have a hard time keeping track of time, and I know several autistics that do as well. To combat this, I have alarms on my phone and smart watch. They warn me when there is only 5 minutes left to a class period or a recess. I don’t like surprise schedule changes, or endings. My other problem is my brain is fixed that a schedule must be followed. I get anxious if it is not. Family running a little late for church? anxiety. Another teacher running into recess or break time with my students? anxiety. I finish my lesson early, and have empty space to fill? anxiety.

Many Autistics are able to easily merge their work schedule with their routines. I envy this. However, the school I work at does something that makes it really hard to keep track of for me. Our schedules do not follow the calendar week. The schedules follow “Letter Days”. Each week is different than the previous week. but there is still a repetition there. So now I have to keep track of 2 separate calendars in my head. Children have special events on Week Days (Little Johnny takes the bus home on Mondays), but classes follow “Letter days” (Grammar class happens on Days A & C)

Many days my head hurts from planning the week.

But this comes to the point of all this. You do these things, you eventually fall into routine with them. after 3 years, I am better at planning my week around the letter days. I also have a better control of my daily routine. You just fall into them whether you like it or not.

Arguably, falling into a routine because it is forced on you, is easier than creating your own routine.

Often we are told about how managing our routines can benefit us. As an Autistic, I have a limited amount of social energy. So I try to use it sparingly. the problem is, if I drain myself, it stops me from thinking. My brain shuts down.

I know I need to change my routine, and go to bed earlier, or to blog regularly. But the change of routine takes energy, and it feels unnatural for the first month or so. So if I am drained, like I often am lately. I don’t have the energy to fight the routine, or to change it. I just fall into it to save energy.

One example of this. Back in September my wife and I promised to walk with each other Monday, Wednesday, Friday. The plan was after dark, just around the block. But every day I have come home completely exhausted. I have just enough energy to (most days) help my daughter with her homework. And then I shut down. I stare at a screen or a wall, and cannot function for hours.

Another example is My weekly teacher D&D Game. Many people would think that this would cause me to get drained. But it was my routine. I would talk with friends, problem solve logically, or laugh. I would come home feeling a bit refreshed. When we had a month of cancellations, I was more exhausted just coming home. and I had to accept a change of routine, that I really did not want.

Of course some routine changes are easier than others. If I have someone there to help me with the routine, it becomes easier. My wife helping me get used to the weekly church is an example. Or the messages I get from members of my Men’s group reminding me of the Monday meeting. these were easy to get into. Other people are sharing the energy loss.

Alone, it is hard, exhausting, and sometimes terrifying. Not logically terrifying, but emotionally so. Knowing how hard it can be, I just don’t want to do it many times.

Who helps you with your routine changes? can you make these changes on your own? please let me know.

Dungeons & Dragons & Me.

Autism, Basic D&D (circa 1990), Games, , , , Leave a comment

It feels strange to talk about this, so please be kind as you read.

When I was young, I had a very hard time making and keeping friends. In elementary school I was accepted by my younger brother’s friends, but did not completely fit in there. I was the big kid that asked the younger kids a lot of questions.

When I was in Junior High (What we called Middle School), I had a friend. We will call him Rick. I discovered much later that Rick was pretending. He was always doing and saying things to make me look bad so people would laugh at me. I didn’t notice, because Rick smiled when near me and asked me questions, and ate lunch with me. He laughed near me. I thought he was laughing with me, but discovered later that it was at me.

Around this time, my oldest brother was part of a group of High Schoolers who played Dungeons and Dragons. They often played at our house in the basement. I would sit and watch them, and they eventually invited me to play, much to my brother’s dismay.

These older guys made me feel welcome. At that time, D&D was not a popular game. It was the kind of thing people got bullied for playing. But these guys accepted me, truly.

After a few months, I went and bought the basic boxed set with my allowance. (The Red Box Set). The game was amazing because it opened up opportunities to try things without being ridiculed. As an autistic person, the fear of making a mistake, or saying the wrong thing can be paralyzing. We are always afraid that we will do the wrong thing. We fear being assaulted verbally or emotionally by others for mistakes.

No it is not an irrational fear. We get this fear because of experience. We have received criticism for everything, and nothing. Growing up, it felt that I could do no right. My family were always cautious abotu saying things near me, my school mates chastised me for playing wrong. My teachers, were nice, but were always correcting me for things I didn’t understand.

Anyways, Dungeons and Dragons allowed me to try things out in a game of imagination. If it was a mistake, the other players wouldn’t pick on me or tease me. I would find out the logical conclusion to my actions, and then we would move on. No problems.

I tried running games for Rick. He hated the game, and wanted nothing but to hurt people in the game. For those in the know, he would be called a MurderHobo. For those not, in the games of imagination, he would describe burning down orphanages, and stabbing people in the street. As an empathic person, this would horrify me. I would have actual nightmares after playing with him. So I stopped.

My younger brother and his friends were interested in playing, and that was great. I ran the games more than I played them. These guys wanted to help people in the game. They were people with a good moral compass. And so I played with them. Rick still hung out with me at school. He even convinced me to run a game for a few other people and him.

That was a mistake. We were making characters one time for the new game, and the three of them began discussing something. I did not understand what they were talking about, even though they did not hide it. Eventually, 10 minutes in, I realized they are talking about how to physically torture me. When I protested, they said it was a joke. I left. I never talked to them again.

So now I was just entering High School, and I had no friends of my own at school. My younger brother was in Junior High with his friends. I never felt so alone. I recognized a couple of people from my grade 1 year. I moved a lot when I was a kid, so was relieved to see them again. But when I tried to become friends with them, I was told by a teacher that I had scared them. I was to leave them alone.

So I had this game I could play after school, and that got me through Grade 10. No friends.

Grade 11 is when I met my first friends that I had not borrowed from my brothers. They invited me to watch Japanese cartoons at lunch, and I invited them to play Dungeons and Dragons. (Actually a version of the game I had made myself.) And most of these people I still consider friends, even though I don’t talk to them often. Some I only talk to every couple of years.

When I came across a Kickstarter 6 or 7 years ago called Critical Core, I had to invest. This was D&D written in a way to help Autistic kids learn to interact with others. I bought my set. Covid hit, and I honestly didn’t think I would every get it because of the issues caused by the pandemic. But they sent me a Digital copy, and then a physical copy.

Critical Core is what I needed when I was young. I urge you all to look it over. The people who designed this care. They get it. They understand how hard life can be for kids like me. And they want to make it better. No they did not sponsor this. I doubt they will ever find out I wrote this.

Now I am back, and as an adult at the job I have, D&D was my go to stress relief. Except this year, I have nobody to play with again. And so I write here. Schedules and life have fallen apart. Work feels more like work, and is a lot heavier. But no time to play.

It sucks.