“Paper No Longer Exists.”

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Today I’m once again participating in Esther’s Writing Prompt, which this week is “paper”. I could be writing about my rather disastrous attempts at paper crafting, but did so already in 2022. I could also write about my first diary, which I kept on Braille notes stuck into a handmade notebook. That would be a short post, as the diary was short-lived. I only regularly kept a diary once I got a computer.

Instead, a phrase I read in a teen magazine back in 2006, comes to mind. The magazine interviewed a futurologist, a person who scientifically tries to predict the future. They asked whether the teen magazine would still exist in 2020. The futurologist said it would not be in the same form, because “paper no longer exists in 2020”.

He probably meant paper tabloids and magazines, not paper in general. More generally, he probably meant that our digital age would’ve progressed so far that people would no longer read traditional paper media. That isn’t entirely true even in 2025, though I wish it were (because that’d make media much more accessible to me).

In other ways, the futurologist was spot on about life in 2020, though not in a good way. He predicted we’d have found a cure for cancer and AIDS by this time. This was what soothed my mind each time I had a health anxiety attack and worried about cancer: if I just made it to 2020, it’d be cureable. As we all know, it isn’t and most likely won’t be anytime soon. That being said, the flip side of the cure the futurologist predicted, did turn out to happen, ie. a global pandemic. And actually exactly in 2020.

Back to paper. I just reread the article and it said that digital paper, which the futurologist claimed would completely replace regular paper, would look just like traditional paper but be wirelessly refreshable. I know some people have digital photo frames, but I haven’t heard of refreshable paper that’s as thin as the regular kind.

Oh, and in case you were wondering: the magazine I got the article out of, no longer exists.

IQ Tests and Final Exams and Psychological Assessments, Oh My!

Posted on by Astrid

Hi all! Today, Esther’s weekly writing prompt is “tests”. Oh my! This made me think of so many things. IQ tests: I’ve had half a dozen or more during my life. Final exams: so glad they’re over with and it’s been twenty years since I graduated high school. Psychological assessments: I still have a love-hate relationship with those. And that goes for tests in general, I guess.

After all, as a child, I didn’t mind taking IQ tests. When I was twelve, I got the infamous Wechsler IQ test, well, the verbal part of it, since I’m blind and the performance part isn’t accessible. I got a score of 154, which, according to the psychologist, indicated giftedness. I’m pretty sure there were all sorts of things wrong with that assessment though.

When I was 30, I got another IQ test, Wechsler again but the adult version and now they removed the clear distinction between verbal and performance IQ so the report just said I got “parts” of the test. My overall IQ score had dropped to 119 I believe. That’s still above-average and I’m pretty sure that’s correct. However, I wish there were a performance IQ test for blind people, because I am pretty sure that’d show where my real limits are. Not that I’m proud of being disabled, but I am and if it could be proven on a test, that’d be much better than an ever-changing psychiatric diagnosis.

Final exams. Like I said, I’m glad it’s been twenty years since I graduated high school. My final exams were quite frustrating, as not only was I horribly nervous, but my computer crashed once in the middle of the test. I graduated from what in the UK is called grammar school and honestly I have no clue how I did it. I mean, well, I know, sort of: the same way I “passed” my IQ tests, ie. being a pretty above-average memorizer. Too bad that a good memory and decent academic skills don’t get me far in life. It takes more than test-taking abilities to be successful, after all.

How Blogging Has Changed Me

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Today in her Sunday Poser, Sadje asks us how blogging has changed us and specifically our thinking.

This is a really tough one. I started keeping an online journal that gradually morphed into a blog at age 16 in 2002. Starting that journal wasn’t a surprise: I’ve always been a bit in your face with my issues, especially to strangers. Back then, I wasn’t ashamed to put my thoughts out there for the entire world to read. My English, though it was readable, wasn’t nearly at the level it is now and I had no concept of privacy either for myself or others. I honestly can’t say I don’t regret any posts I’ve put out there. I actually regret having posted some of the writings on my current blog.

As such, having written stuff online for 23 years helped me be slightly more aware of my own and other people’s boundaries. I still probably should be more careful. In fact, I considered starting a new, anonymous blog earlier this year, but I doubt how much that’d help me be truly unidentifiable. I, after all, share so much online about myself that I’m pretty sure my nicknames are easy to connect.

In other respects, blogging has helped me become a better writer. That is, before my days on WP, I did share the stories I’d written as a teen online too. However, these were written in Dutch. Blogging has certainly helped me improve my English.

I still rarely express myself through creative writing, such as poetry or short fiction. That’s a goal I have had for years, but somehow it feels embarrassing to do. That’s weird, isn’t it? I don’t feel ashamed of blabbering about my life, but creative writing scares me.

With respect to connections, WP has helped me immensely. As soon as I moved my diary to WP in 2007, I learned about the blogging community and have started making connections. Some of these people, like carol anne from Therapy Bits, I still talk to more than 15 years on. Blogging isn’t like real life for me, in that hardly any deep friendships have formed out of it. Oh wait, I only have one friend IRL too. 🤣 Maybe this means I’m too superficial for deep connections.

One last thing I learned from blogging is to keep my mouth shut when I have nothing nice to say. That doesn’t mean I can always do so in real life, but I learned early on that particularly when commenting on other people’s posts, you should always include something positive or encouraging. I was harshly criticized back in my early days online for honestly saying that some product wasn’t for me. Turned out the post was sponsored. Let me just say I will never do that kind of thing.

I did occasionally try to be a “lifestyle blogger” in Dutch, but it isn’t my thing and will never be. I’ll, after all, always be authentically me. As such, when I say something nice, I do mean it (it isn’t like I comment positively just because I need to).

That’s a good thing about WP as opposed to self-hosted blogging: there’s less pressure to become an “influencer”. That doesn’t mean you can’t be more or less popular, but I trust those on WP, including those who get a zillion comments, to be authentic.

Devotion to Polymer Clay

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Today I’m joining John Holton’s Writer’s Workshop. I’m choosing to write on the prompt about devoting your life to art. What type of art would I devote my life to?

The question here is, are we to choose just one particular form of art that we’d devote our entire life to, or are we allowed to pick more than one form? After all, many art forms are interconnected and I would not enjoy one without the other.

For instance, I would probably not enjoy polymer clay as much if I didn’t take photos of my work and didn’t write about the craft on here. Also, if I make jewelry out of polymer clay or use polymer clay beads in a necklace or bracelet, that’s basically combining two crafts.

So, let me say I cannot choose just one art form, because, though my photographs aren’t all that artistic, I’d still have to choose between polymer clay and writing. I flat out refuse.

After all, though writing comes easiest to me, polymer clay is what brings me the most joy. I just love the fact that, even though I’m now totally blind, I still have some insight into colors. I also still, four years into the craft, love creating unicorns.

I made three unicorns in the past week. The latest, I haven’t baked yet because I just made it this evening. The other two I made late last week. One is probably going to be a gift to a staff who gave birth last week. I loved working with the two colors for the mane, tail and horn, but its horn is a little crooked.

The other one, which I myself like best, is for me. After all, you can never have too many unicorns.

A few years ago, I talked to my then staff about possibly creating unicorns to go into the care agency’s shop. That idea never materialized, but I’ve brought it up a few more times. I’d just love to have polymer clay as my “job”. Here, I chose anyway. And I also wrote on another prompt, because creating the unicorns is the main thing that made me smile recently.

Some Might Say It’s Wrong to Be Angry

Posted on by Astrid

Some might say it’s wrong to be angry. I was actually told when I was in fourth grade that I was “angry too quickly”. What my parents and the professionals meant is that my expression of my emotions, whether I was actually feeling angry or not, was wrong given the situation.

That’s not the same. An emotional expression isn’t the same as the emotion that someone is actually feeling.

Besides, I strongly disagree with the idea that emotions can be “right” or “wrong” even given the circumstances. I have always felt that the idea behind dialectical behavior therapy of deciphering whether an emotion you’re feeling is justified in that situation or not, and, if not, acting opposite, is incredibly invalidating.

It’s never wrong to feel angry. Or sad. Or happy for that matter. Yes, it can be wrong to express your emotions in a certain way, such as when you become disproportionately aggressive. Even then, your emotions aren’t wrong. And, at least in my case, the emotion I’m actually feeling isn’t usually anger.

Like, when, last week, I became physically aggressive towards a staff by trying to hit him, I wasn’t angry. I was panicking because the staff was restraining me for the relatively minor offense of trying to grab a small object that he thought I was going to throw to the ground. That assumption may’ve been correct, but that doesn’t mean my feeling of utter panic when grabbed by both arms, was wrong. For what it’s worth, I feel that restraining someone for fear of them damaging an easily replacable object, is out of proportion.

It’s easy to say that people are wrong for being angry, when in reality you can’t know what’s in their minds, so whether they actually feel anger at all. It’s also easy to think that a person trying to throw objects is disturbing the peace for the other people around so you, as a staff member, are justified to do whatever it takes to prevent them. However, just because it’s easy doesn’t mean it’s right.

I’m sharing this post with Missy’s MAD Challenge for this week. The prompt is the phrase “Some might say it’s wrong to…”.

Share Our Lives (May 2025): How I Celebrate My Birthday

Posted on by Astrid

Hi all! It’s the second Monday of the month and this means the Share Our Lives linky goes live. This month, the theme is how we usually spend or celebrate our birthdays.

My birthday is at the end of June, so the weather’s usually pretty good. That is, my parents used to joke that my sister, whose birthday is tomorrow, always got better weather on her birthday than I got. It isn’t true and, quite frankly, now that I have more insight into our family dynamics, it feels like one of their endless comparison games rather than a joke. But I digress.

My birthday and the time around it usually are quite stressful, since it’s the only time a year I ever see my parents and that’s with good reason. Over the past few years, my parents, my best friend and I have often been going out for dinner. It’s always awkward but was more so last year. I haven’t made plans with my parents this year yet.

My sister and her family will also visit me. Last year, this was a bit hard, as my oldest niece was tired and, being four at the time, easily bored. This led to her being cranky and me being cranky from being overloaded as a result. For my birthday this year, we’ve planned a relatively short visit.

All this being said, I do like to have somewhat of a birthday party at the care home. Even at the intensive support home, I treated the entire group to fries and a snack. Last year, I made a cheesecake and also treated the home to home-cooked burgers and salad.

I think gift-receiving is also a fun part of my birthday. The best gift I ever received was my music pillow, which my best friend gave me last year. My parents usually buy me a small gift plus some thrift store items. It may seem stupid, but I do like not knowing what I’ll get even though chances are I won’t be using it much. Besides, I haven’t bought my parents gifts in years.

Now that I look over this post, I realize I honestly don’t know why I usually say I like my birthday, as now that I’m an adult I could easily be buying my own gifts and I don’t like most of the company I get. I think part of it is childlike excitement.

To Speak Out or Not to Speak Out

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Today’s Sunday Poser is an intriguing one. Sadje asks whether I’m the one who will speak up when I see a wrong being done or whether I’ll keep quiet. I’m going to interpret this more broadly and share how I tend to react to injustice in the world in general.

And the truth is, shameful as it is, I no longer speak up. This didn’t use to be the case. When I first started out blogging on WordPress in 2007 and especially between 2009 and 2011, I frequently wrote about injustices to groups I didn’t even belong to, like trans people. Now though, I struggle to speak up and I’m not even certain this is out of fear of speaking over marginalized groups. Well, that is, I’m quite certain that it isn’t that. It’s fear of being targeted myself.

Don’t get me wrong, I still speak out in real life against injustices being done to other people, especially those I love.

I struggle with this when it’s microaggressions like “jokes” and I actually regularly catch myself making hurtful comments towards people in minority groups I’m not part of.

This is, actually, more problematic than it might seem. I mean, I could say I’m not trans, not an immigrant, not [insert the latest scapegoat of fascism], but in reality everyone has privilege and almost everyone is marginalized in some way. Besides, like my best friend recently said, fascism’s goal is to destroy society.

I am, however, often too scared of being the next target to speak out openly. This is why I’m more gentle than I’d wish I were when pointing out transphobic or racist or otherwise oppressive comments in real life and especially why I’m no longer as vocal as I used to be on my blog. The world just isn’t as safe anymore.

This does also mean I can no longer be fully myself online. It’s just too easy to track me (and my loved ones) down from my blog. It was even easier back in the early days of my being on the Internet, when I’d almost always use my full name everywhere. However, either I was the lucky one back then for not having been attacked in real life, or the world’s become a harsher place. Probably a little of both.

School Reunions

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. One of this week’s Writer’s Workshop prompts is to write a post based on the word reunion. This reminded me of two reunions, one I actually attended and one I didn’t.

The reunion I did attend was for the school for the blind I had been a student at for my last three years of elementary school in the late 1990s. The reunion took place in 2008 and it was on school grounds. The reason the reunion was held, was the fact that many buildings would be reconstructed in the next couple of years, so as to give former students and staff one last chance to see school grounds in the form they’d remembered them.

The school included buildings for both elementary and secondary school, as well as homes for the residential students and a place for leisure activities where the non-residential students had lunch too. I was a non-residential student and only attended elementary school, like I said.

There were two reasons why I wanted to attend the reunion. One was to meet former fellow students and staff. That was a success. I met my best friend from school, with whom I hadn’t been in contact since leaving this school in 1998. I also briefly talked to my fourth grade teacher. That was awkward, as I didn’t feel comfortable disclosing to him that I resided in a psychiatric hospital at the time.

The other reason I wanted to attend the reunion, was to see the school in the form I remembered. That, unfortunately, wasn’t a success, because part of the elementary school, including the classrooms, had been destroyed in a fire in 2006. Part of the building was still standing, but it was no longer useable.

I was on grounds a few more times attending smartphone use training in 2017. On May 24, I believe, there’s going to be another reunion for this school, but it isn’t on grounds and I know no-one who will be attending, so I won’t either.

This brings me to my other reunion story. IN 2013, my high school celebrated 100 years of existence. I for a while considered attending, but was still in the psych hospital at the time and besides, my entire high school experience had been quite bad. So I didn’t go.

A few years later, I got an E-mail from a former teacher there. She had been my Dutch teacher and tutor for the first year and part of the second year of my attending this school, until she went on sick leave and finally found another job. She had been at the reunion and had wondered about me. Having read part of my website, she now understood why I hadn’t been at the reunion.

This, as it turned out, would also have been my last chance of meeting the teacher who’d become my tutor after the Dutch teacher left. He got cancer about a year after I’d graduated high school in 2005 and died in 2016. I am pretty sure it was for the better that he didn’t know that I was still in the psych hospital then.

Neurospicy Burnout

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. A few days ago, I listened to a podcast episode on autistic burnout. It’s the most recent episode of Beyond Chronic Burnout, a podcast for autistic women (and other marginalized genders, I hope) and their helping professionals. It discussed the Spicy Pepper burnout questionnaire, which apparently is a questionnaire to determine your level of burnout. I got overloaded trying to find the actual questionnaire amid all the ads etc. and it looks like the website it was published on, isn’t particularly screen reader friendly, so I wasn’t able to take the test. However, from the descriptions discussed on the podcast, I believe I’m in quite a significant burnout and have been for, well, years.

What is autistic burnout, you might ask? Autistic burnout is like regular burnout from being overworked, but it is really more like being overworked living life in a world not designed for autistics. As I have said for many, many years, just living in a neurotypical world is hard work for me.

I want to clarify that autistic burnout is often amplified by co-occuring conditions such as ADHD. In fact, writing this just reminds me of something I read several years ago that said that having fibromyalgia, which is often agravated by stress, is often correlated to ADHD. This is why I refer to neurospicy burnout.

The podcaster claimed that the first signs of burnout in autistics usually appear between the ages of four and six and many autistics experience their first actual burnout between the ages of six and ten. This was hugely validating. I, at age five, fell ill with what my parents claim was the flu, but it did lead them to get me into special ed quicker than originally intended. Age seven is always when my parents claim I changed from a cheerful, happy child to angry and depressed. This correlates with my having to start learning Braille, so according to my parents I then became aware of my declining vision. This is probably correct, but it doesn’t mean that my difficulty accepting my blindness was the only or main problem.

The first warning sign of autistic burnout, the podcaster says, is suicidal ideation. Oh my, can I relate! I honestly always thought that the first sign of burnout, whether neurospicy or work-related, was exhaustion. That with the fact that I react to overload with overactivity and irritability, always made me believe I’ve never had “real” burnout symptoms. Now I realize that I may not have fully collapsed (yet), but I do certainly experience burnout. And have for, well, my entire life since I was seven, I guess.

An Allergic Reaction

Posted on by Astrid

Hi all! Today I’m joining in with the Writer’s Workshop. One of the prompts is to write about an experience of having an allergic reaction.

I have never had very strong allergic reactions to anything. However, the fact that I would not classify my allergic reactions as strong, is probably because I haven’t fully figured them out.

I am allergic to nickel. That is, that’s what my parents have always told me. I never knew how to recognize an allergic reaction though and, with the fact that it can take some time for your body to react to nickel, even if I knew I had an allergic reaction, I wouldn’t always be sure of the cause.

When I was 15, I got earrings. After the little studs you wear for the first six weeks, I immediately switched to long, heavy, silver rings I got from my mother. No-one had told me not to wear heavy earrings for the first year. Or that silver earrings, especially those made back in the day, could contain nickel.

My earlobes started getting inflamed pretty soon, but I didn’t actually realize this was abnormal. It could’ve been the nickel, but I also constantly fidgeted with my earrings, thereby touching my pierced ears.

After a few months of wearing all sorts of, mostly quite heavy, earrings, I was wise enough to give up. For over two decades.

And then, the whole saga started over. I got new studs put in, because my old earring holes had long formed scar tissue. This time, I googled what to wear and not to wear while getting used to earrings. I only wore small studs.

However, I was unable to make sure that my earrings didn’t contain nickel. In the EU, nickel is no longer allowed in jewelry, but no-one ever checks manufacturers for compliance.

I got silver studs that the vendor said were nickel-free. Though I was fine for a few months, my ears eventually started getting inflamed again. I tried ignoring the issue, believing it would get better over time. Which, if it’s truly my nickel allergy acting up, isn’t true. In fact, the opposite is true: an allergy keeps getting worse the more someone is exposed to the allergen.

Eventually, after several attempts wearing various studs, I gave up. And this time, I’m hopefully not going to ignore my body again and have another go. Whether it was my nickel allergy acting up or I was just touching my ears too much, we’ll never know. Now I’ll just wear necklaces and bracelets, so that when I fidget with them, I’m not essentially touching a wound.