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I Love Myself cont

For those of you just tuning in, I had a huge realization last night. I realized that I actually do love myself. This is huge because I have spent my entire life in self-loathing and zero confidnece. When I started my journey to self-loving, I was kinda on my own. Which is how it’ll always be. You’ll have people to support you, maybe to tell you what to do, but you have to do all the work yourself. As a very lazy person by nature, this seemed like a very daunting task. Especially because I didn’t have a set of instructions of how to love yourself like I’m going to try to offer today. As an aspie with ADD, a set of instructions would have been awesome. Now, I’m still a work in progress for this loving yourself thing. I still hate my body, for example. But I’ve come so very far, and I’m sure I can help those of you that are not at my level yet.

At first, I wasn’t really sure if it was gonna work. I didn’t really think about that part. But I had learned that it was the only way I was going to be happy and have the kind of life I want for myself. And I was encouraged by seeing so very many people out there who had done so well. The steps I’m going to offer today are steps I think I took. I could be wrong, but it wouldn’t help to try them, right? I started near the end of high school, and I reached the point I’m at last night, at the age of 25. So if you try my steps, don’t worry if they’re taking a really long time to accomplish.

First of all, I had to be honest with myself about everything. As an aspie, this was very easy for me. It should also cause little trouble for you, because this first step doesn’t require any action. For example, I admitted to myself that I hold grudges. No, I didn’t like that about myself. But with the first step, I didn’t have to worry about doing anything about it. I merely had to be aware that that was something I did.

The second step is a million times more complicated it’s practice and/or acceptance. As a lazy person, I didn’t want to change my personality. Even though there was a lot about it that I didn’t like. This step took years upon years because it took a lot of observation and experience, instead of work, to do. See, luckily for me, I’m an inherently good person. That saved me a lot of work. Through this journey, I learned/accepted/decided that most of the things I didn’t like about myself–like my tendency to hold grudges–really weren’t that big a deal. For this specific example, I would tell myself and other people, “I am not God. I am not Jesus. I am not the Virgin Mary. I am a HUMAN, and as a human, it is ok to be imperfect.” choosing the road of acceptance, instead of change, seemed to make things easier on me, even though it took longer. As I matured, I learned how to treat people with respect and courtesy even when I was holding a grudge against them.

That leads into the longest, though not necessarily the hardest, step. Maturing. Growing up. Listening to people and reading blog posts like this. By nature, I have a tendency to turn down and invalidate people’s advice. “That won’t work for me because…”  While maturing, I taught myself to hold back those excuses. Then to think long and hard about the advice anyway. Eventually, I would begin to actually try the advice. Sometimes it was worth it. To grow up, you have to be open-minded. Yes, you are a unique individual. But that doesn’t mean that your self-loathing is so different from mine that it can’t be defeated like I’m slowly defeating mine.

Well, I guess I’ve explained it all as clearly as I can. I’m typing this on my phone as I think. I have no rough draft. So I’m going to say, now, that maturing is probably the most important part in this journey. You know how people older than you always tell you that they don’t care about other people anymore? If you continue to mature, you begin to realize why that’s so very true. You learn that other people don’t really matter. For example, my co-workers know I’m a ticking time bomb. It is impossible for them to tell if what they say or do will piss me off. But I’m a very hard worker. And after the anger subsides, I know how to treat them with respect and courtesy. So what if they think I’m psycho? That doesn’t affect me at all. Because I’m an adult and, as such, will still do my job. If they merely don’t like me just because of that, that’s their loss. Because this journey has taught what a beautiful person I really am. When I’m not being psycho :p.

Finally, I think you readers need to know what loving yourself really means. At first, I simply didn’t comprehend it. Was it love, like you love you significant other? Was it luv, like you luv your friends? Or maybe is it familial love? I’m pretty sure it’s quite different from all of those. But, at the level I’m at, it’s mostly like familial love. I am a member of my family, after all. Sometimes, it helps me to imagine myself as a little girl I am related to, and I just want to love her so very much. Because I know the ins and outs of that little girl. I know how she thinks, how she feels, and where she’s coming from. I know her needs, her wants, her aspirations. I know her heart.

 
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Posted by on September 21, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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E for Entertainment, F for Family, G for God

I’m doing awful with a-z this year D:. I barely have time to write my own blogs! Let alone go to other people’s! D:. I’m so sorry! I’m going to go to commenters’ blogs as soon as I possibly can, I promise!

E for Entertainment. This may be my ADD, but I almost always have to be entertained. Until recently, though, that was always super-easy. Until recently, when in doubt, I could always just close my eyes (or stare off in the distance) and daydream. I was always daydreaming. My stories, my future, even things that might happen as soon as later that day. This ability of mine was very helpful, especially because at work, I spend most of my time standing around waiting for customers. And on weekdays, business can be pretty slow.

Sadly, however, I seem to have lost this daydreaming ability. I’m hoping it’s because, A) my ADD meds seem to no longer be working, and/or B) I have nothing to daydream about. I’m reading historical fiction currently, and it doesn’t inspire much daydreaming out of me. And my future? Doesn’t look too promising right now :/. So I avoid thinking about it.

So what do I do? I read. Or listen to my book. When you get the kindle version of your book and the audible, your devices will keep track of where you left off on each version. So, for example, I can read half of chapter one, then skip right into listening to the other half. It’s fantastic!

F for Family. Family is numero uno in my life. Even before God. Sorry, but that’s how it is. People say that Asperger’s usually comes down in the family genes. Well, I can’t figure out where my Asperger’s came from. Neither of my parents show any signs. The only thing my mom has is that she moisturizes her hands once in a while with the Aveeno. I don’t think that’s anything.

We have a dog. A Lassie dog. I love to pet him. And I love him, of course. My counselor suggested petting him when I want to eat, to see if it’ll help curb my cravings. Didn’t work, but it was a good thought. Because I love petting the dog.

G for God. Basically, my religion post. Short and sweet, though. My dad grew up Lutherin, my mom Roman Catholic. My dad “converted” so that they could marry, and we were raised Roman Catholic. But, of course, my dad still had his Lutherin influence.

I’m excited to have my own kids for many, many reasons. One is so that, when I’m comforting them, I can finally say something like, “God will provide.” Because no one believes in God. So I can’t comfort anyone with that, when it would actually bring me a lot of comfort. My dad’s God speeches always made me feel better. Because I believe. When I have my own kids, I can raise them however I want. So I can tell them, “God will provide.”

But I don’t agree with most of the Bible or churches or whatever. I have my own belief system that is still Christianity and I like it how it is. BTW, I’m only a Christian because of Mary. I’m not too big on the Jesus thing, but I feel close to Mary and just can’t let her go :/. Lol.

Thanks for reading!

 
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Posted by on April 8, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Eat, Eat, Eat, Eat, Eat

All I do is eat, eat, eat, eat, eat. Seriously. Sometimes, it gets to the point where I’m force-feeding myself. Why? Because I have Asperger’s.

With my Asperger’s, I’m big on how things feel, physically and emotionally. And the physical and emotional often connect. I’ll get bored, or I’ll just get cravings, and nothing will satisfy me except eating whatever I’m craving. And that craving will be: chocolate, carbs, something-unhealthy-besides-chocolate, something-unhealthy-maybe-chocolate, hard-candy-like-lollipops, you get the idea. BTW, those are literally the words that go through my head when I’m craving.

I’ve tried doing other sensational things (or whatever the word is) before eating, to try and trick my brain into not wanting to eat anymore. Like petting the dog. I love petting the dog. But even that doesn’t compare to eating.

See, eating feels so good. Taste feels so good. Like, really freaking good. Imagine your favorite food, ever, of all time. Now multiply that sensation and satisfaction by ten. That’s probably what my least-favorite-but-still-like-it food does to me. I mean, I’m no shrink, but that’s what I’m guessing considering how freaking easy it is for everyone else to give up food compared to me. I. Can’t. Do. It.

“Oh, just do smaller portions.”

Where the fuck is the satisfaction in that?

I seriously want to cry right now. I just force-fed myself two PB&J sandwiches because I was just craving carbs. My mouth just wanted to chew something soft like that and my tongue just wanted to taste something nice like that (but, dear God, don’t suggest chewing fabric. I can’t stand fabric in my mouth. Bread and fabric are different. Idk how, but they are). I can never get enough. Even when my stomach is ready to burst.

I have no control. I used to have control. It used to be so much easier. Then I got depression and all went to Hell. Please, is there anyone that can help me?

 
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Posted by on March 17, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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One of the Many Reasons I Hate Myself

Because I was babysitting tonight and the preschooler asked if I was pregnant.

“No, sweetie.”

“Then why is your belly so big?”

It’s not the first time a young child has made note of my fatness. And it devistates me. But obviously not enough to make me change my habits. Today, I tried so hard not to eat because I had to save my appetite for dinner with L. But I was really craving something soft to chew. Like a cupcake, or a soft cookie, or a PBJ sandwich. I’m saving the remaining cupcakes for L and me to eat together, so I opted for a PBJ sandwich even though I was beyond not hungry and, as I said, had to save my appetite. That was how badly I needed that sensory sesation. Whatever it’s called.

I had tried to avoid it. But you can only pet the dog for so long until it gets boring or even the dog gets sick of it. Or both.

Now, don’t go complaining about bad parenting or anything about these kids. It’s not their fault. They don’t know. They’re used to seeing average-sized people. Not fatsos like me.

 
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Posted by on December 13, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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Don’t Do it

Never, ever, EVAR call 911 and say “suicide.”

I made that mistake last weekend.

My parents yelled at me over something stupid, I was in hysterics, couldn’t find any phone numbers, all I could think was “911 will give me a phone number.” Well, he tried to get me on with Lifeline, but the call dropped. So he sent an officer out who cuffed me and took me to the hospital.

My sister yelled at me.

My family doesn’t understand that I just can’t do things the way they do. I just can’t do it “the right way.” I have to do it a different way.

My therapist, doctor, and I think I have Aspberger’s.

My family gets on my case over things that don’t matter to me in the least. And I’m a grown woman (24 years old). So these things aren’t really that important. Now, if it were hygiene or something, yeah, that’d be important. But it’s thinks like shaving my armpits (I am NOT putting a razor to one of the most sensitive parts of my body) or cleaning my room. I just don’t care. I have other things to worry about. Like my spending.

I’m giving my parents all my money for six months. They’ll control everything. Hopefully that’ll break my spending. In six months.

Aspie ladies, how do I grow up? What do I need to learn so I finally stop thinking about just me and start thinking about my future and the well-being of my family? How do I handle life? How do I adult?

My sister tells me I need to get over what happened to me at school. She doesn’t get how badly it fucked me up psychologically. Like, really bad. Because of that, I no longer believe that I’m going to have a future. Not, like, I’m gonna die. More like, I’m gonna be in retail all my life. No family of my own or anything, either.

On top of everything else in my life (PCOS, familial habits, being a woman, etc.), having Aspberger’s makes it harder for me to lose weight, too. I like the taste and texture of the most unhealthy foods. Like pasta. Omg yummm~. But my therapist suggested some things to help replace that. Like, instead of just peanut butter sandwiches, throw some turkey in there, too. Look for healthy things that are soft and I can bite into them. Suggestions? Also, add cinnamon to sweet things. Will help slow the digestion.

That’s pretty much all we talked about. So, yeah. Fun times.

Life with my parents is hard. But it’s the best choice right now because I don’t know how to adult. What am I missing?

 
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Posted by on September 5, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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Ask Not What Your Country Can Do for You

In college, we read a book (well, a couple books) about a boy with autism. This one was called The Curious Case of the Dog in the Nighttime. I think. We were discussing it in class, and I made the mistake of expressing my honest opinion.

We were talking about his quirks and how they affected his daily life. The specifics that I remember are as follows: he didn’t like a certain color (yellow? Red?). So when he saw cars that color on the way to school, it was going to be a bad day. I also remember that he avoided touching the part of the train(?) ticket that was that color. This struck me differently than it struck everyone else. I said something like, “He needs to grow up and deal with these things. He can’t let those little things dictate his day or how he holds something. He can’t them affect him so much.”

Hate me yet? Hear me out.

Naturally, I was shot down. And I began to consider things a lot harder. But in the end, I have realized that I’m pretty much right. At least mostly.

Hear me out. As one with her own issues with mild autism and major ADD, I don’t expect the world to change for me just because I have these disabilities. I don’t expect people to understand or care. Part of being an adult, being a part of a group of people, is realizing that you’re not special. And I don’t mean that in a mean way. You are unique. People do love you for your uniqueness. But you can’t expect the world to cater to your disability. It’s great when it does, but you have to be able to deal when it doesn’t. Because nine times out of ten, it won’t. Especially for those “invisible” disabilities like ours. And why should it? How could it? Everyone is unique with unique needs. Life isn’t about making the world better for you. It’s like what JFK said. “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.”

I was raised being taught that I had to fight through my struggles to be, well, “normal.” Not necessarily conformed, but able to function in a world that doesn’t care about my disability (we only knew of one when I was growing up). A world that may or may not see me as my disability. A world that only sees and cares about what I bring to the table.

Life is about fighting through your issues, or maybe working with them, to bring something great and unique to the table.

I have specific examples. Remember how the character in the book didn’t like the certain color? And how he avoided touching that color on his ticket? I can relate, sorta. I never told anyone this until recently, but I have an issue with something happening to one side of my body and not the other. If I stomp my left foot, I have to stomp my right foot with exactly the same force. Otherwise I’ll just go crazy. But I never told anyone about it. I just dealt with it. I deal with it. And now that I’m growing up and realizing how unimportant that is, I’m making myself deal with one side being different from the other sometimes. That’s what I meant about the character growing up and dealing with it. Don’t let it affect you. Not even worth mentioning in even the most intimate conversations.

My personal issues with my body are so very unimportant. What is important? What I can give in spite of that. I don’t like my body being asymmetrical. But I’m over it enough that I’m able to type this out and share my thoughts with you all without worrying about the symmetry of my fingers.

I’m super-sensitive to touch. I can tell the softest spots of animals’ fur (their heads). And I -love- rolling on the ground petting my dog. I can give him the kind of attention and affection no one else can. If my hands are too try or even pruny, I can’t even touch soft things. It drives me nuts. And I can’t stand having sticky fingers.

I’m super-sensitive to taste. I can taste pretty much all the ingredients in a dish. I even taste the salt in chocolate chip cookies sometimes.

Life is about using these things to my advantage. And dealing with them when I can’t. Yes, I do cater to my issues sometimes. I put on moisturizer so I can touch things after showering. I do wash my hands when they’re sticky. But it’s really not as big a deal as it was made to be in the book. And it shouldn’t be. Because those things aren’t what’s important. What’s important is what I can do with or in spite of these issues. I don’t expect, or even want, the world to supply me with moisturizer for free or make a syrup that isn’t sticky for me. I want to give the world my ability to think about things almost too much. I want to give my experiences to teach others what I’m going through in life.

 
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Posted by on April 10, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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Catching Up

WOW it’s been a long time since I wrote. I still get anxiety. In fact, there’s been a new development on my anxiety. Usually, I get anxiety attacks for some reason. Because something was said or done. But yesterday, I was just sitting there. Sitting there waiting for them to finish fixing my glasses. And BAM! Heart racing, sweating, can’t breathe. Out of absolutely nowhere! And I had no Xanax around, because I keep it in my work stuff. Because I only get attacks at work. Besides, Xanax isn’t working anymore, anyway. So I had to run to Kmart, buy some food, and wait it out. I bought so much food…

That’s another problem. Eating. I do nothing but eat. Eat eat eat. Food food food. I’m so fucking fat! Ugh! We decided this is because I don’t have enough sensory activities in my life. So where am I going to get sensory activities? The only thing I can think of is petting the dog. My counselor gave me a worksheet…

We’re also screwing with my meds still. I don’t want to be on Sertreline anymore because I can’t orgasm on it. Yes, that’s exactly why I don’t want to be on it. A girl’s got her needs. So now I’m on Welbutrin and it’s working beautifully. But I can’t drink on it, which really sucks. I’m at my happiest when I’m drunk. I love it so much. I’m not addicted, but it’s a definitely huge want. Then we started reducing the Sertreline and all Hell broke loose. I’m nervous to see what will happen when we take me off the Abilify D:.

Because I can no longer drink, I’m looking for other ways to let loose. Energy drinks are possible, but my body’s getting too used to them too quickly. Idk how many I’d have to drink now in order to get “high.”

Oh, and here’s a plus. Apparently I have autism, too. Because of my sensory and social issues. Yeah, I have sensory issues. Like, I can’t stand touching soft things (particularly fabrics) when my hands are all dry and/or pruny. And I tend to appreciate soft fabrics more than other people, I noticed. I guess it’s weird o_o.

So…that’s about it. I’m gonna try to post once a week, now. On -this- blog. I’ll focus on depression, but I’ll talk about other topics. Like my writing career (or therelackof). How’s that sound? Good?

 
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Posted by on January 26, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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