I Am Myself (For Real This Time!)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I haven’t blogged in over a week and it’s not for lack of wanting to, but for lack of feeling like I belong anywhere within the blogosphere. I have myself to blame, having tried to fit in simultaneously with the traditional lifestyle blogger crowd, most of who are Christian, and the more open-minded if not secular community that is mostly on WordPress. I have always had to sacrifice part of myself in order to belong with the lifestyle crowd. That’s, of course, the essence of the Christian faith and one big reason I now seriously proclaim I’m no longer pretending to be a Christian. I’m not. I am spiritual, but I choose my own path.

I mean, I could of course quote Bobby Schuller, who is big on belonging before you “behave”. However, at the end of the day, he too condemns everyone who doesn’t ultimately “behave”. And I never “behaved”. For one thing, my first crush was a girl. For another, I didn’t live with my spouse for the first six years of our marriage and not ever since 2019 either. For yet another, we don’t have kids and that’s 100% by choice. In short, I refuse to be bound by the rigid standards of sexual and gender roles that traditional “family values” impose on me. I honestly don’t care about being a “good” woman in God’s eyes. I’m done with sacrificing part of me just so I belong. Maybe along the way I’ll discover who I “myself” even am.

Worries

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Today’s Sunday Poser is about worries. What worries you about the future?

Unlike Sadje, I mostly have personal worries occupying my mind. Most of them also aren’t long-term. I mean, I do sometimes worry that the sweet and high-fat foods I consume today will lead to an untimely death ten or twenty years from now, but that worry isn’t as all-consuming as my worries about the next few weeks, months or the next year. I joke that, in 2034, everything will be okay. I got that from the book titled 2034, which I still haven’t read and is about World War III erupting that same year. I think it’s more likely that World War III is going to break out that year than that the care system will be any closer to ideal. However, in reality, I can’t look that far into the future, so I know I should care, but really I don’t.

This is probably the same reason the state of the planet doesn’t keep me up at night. That is, except when I read a news article detailing that the magical 1.5 degrees of warming have been hit in some parts of the world in 2023. Then I did worry: will the planet catch fire (not even sure whether I’m talking hyperbolically with all the wildfires we’ve had) next year?

Still, most of my worries concern my personal life. That doesn’t mean the news doesn’t effect me, but it only does when I think it relates to me personally. For instance, when I read that policy makers were talking about reintroducing 24-hour diapering for elderly people who can still use the bathroom but need assistance with it, I was intensely worried. It was said in the same article that the phrase I repeat many times over and over again when talking about my care was: “It’s better to have reasonably good care for two people than excellent care for one person.” Did they mean me? Was my care, with (at the time) nine hours of one-on-one a day, “excellent”? Apparently, because now I have just seven. But I’m still worried they mean me. After all, I still cost considerable money (far more than elderly people needing an hourly assisted bathroom break) and aren’t sedatives cheaper than one-on-one, just like diapers are cheaper than nursing assistants?

It isn’t really a clear thing I do worry about though. I mean, yes, I do worry about my care being cut, but then again, I can’t look far into the future. When I try, I’m always wrong on so many levels. So they remain mostly vague worries that keep me up at night.

Sometimes though, like recently, they’ve been more short-term, concrete things that worried me, such as over the past week the fact that my support coordinator, behavior specialist and intellectual disability physician had a meeting on Friday. The positive news is that the explicit compensatory system, by which every minute I’d come out of my unsupported time in distress had to be compensated for at my next one-on-one moment, was discontinued. Rather, from now on, staff will again discuss with me once I’m calm whether they can come back at a later time for my next support moment since they needed to spend more time on me. I am so happy I no longer have the compensatory system hanging over my head, even though some staff said the end result would be the same. I don’t care about the end result (which, by the way, will probably mean I’ll need slightly less support, honestly); I care that this makes me feel much more comfortable.

My Favorite Type of Weather

Posted on by Astrid
Daily writing prompt
What is your favorite type of weather?
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I am pretty sure I answered this question before when rambling on for one of Paula Light’s former #TGIF posts. At least, I did share that Erwin Kroll, the Netherlands’ most well-known meteorologist during the 1990s, said in an interview for the kids’ audio magazine I subscribed to at the time, that partly cloudy weather with a daytime temperature of 22°C was his favorite and I probably added that mine wouldn’t be far off. I’d prefer slightly warmer weather, but I don’t care for daytime highs in the high 20s, let alone 30s or above.

At night, I prefer a temperature below 10°C. Oh wait, I’m being a bit difficult, as with daytime highs in the 20s, you hardly ever get night-time lows below 10°C.

I used to hate rain with a passion, but now, though I don’t care for it, I will still go outside if it’s drizzling a little. I still can’t stand snow, sleet or hail.

As a side note, I had a discussion with one of my staff a few days back. He said he’d love for the daytime temperature to be 20°C now. I said me too, and we will more than likely get our way sooner rather than later given the speed of climate change, but this does mean summer highs will be in the 40s too. Be careful what you wish for…

No Such Thing As “Minor” Trauma

Posted on by Astrid

Recently, there was a discussion online I participated in about what caused our complex PTSD. I mentioned emotional, mental and physical abuse, bullying, a few instances of sexual violation and medical trauma. Most others not only went into far more detail than I was comfortable, but also discussed traumatic experiences that seemed far worse compared to those I’d gone through. When I mentioned this, saying reading others’ stories made me feel as though my trauma was minor, someone else commented how there’s no such thing as “minor” trauma.

Indeed, if something was significant enough to have caused C-PTSD, it was traumatic, and this means it was major. I am reminded of something my spouse said at one point when I was seeing a potential new trauma therapist back in 2013 (who ended up rejecting me for reasons not related to me). I was doubting the reality of my trauma. To this, my spouse said that, in reality, something as “minor” as slipping on the bathroom floor, could be life-threatening, so in theory I could’ve developed PTSD from that. I didn’t and I didn’t develop PTSD from any of my countless other falls, but I might have. Of course, this is a bit far-fetched, and of course I couldn’t have developed complex PTSD from falling, but I hope my point is clear: it’s not always easy to distinguish between events that objectively speaking count as trauma and things that don’t.

There are trauma centers here in the Netherlands that adhere very strictly to criterion A (the presence of things that count as trauma, according to professionals) in DSM-5 for treating people with (C-)PTSD. I’m not sure I’d meet their criterion. I mean, yes, I did experience exactly one potentially life-threatening medical event that I remember, when I was four. I was also hit quite regularly, but does that go beyond “tough love”? If it doesn’t, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t meet the trauma criterion for (C-)PTSD.

Then again, I’m not seeking to get into one of these centers. Tomorrow, I’ll have a get-to-know-me appointment with the care agency’s therapy practice. They haven’t yet decided whether they can help me or not. I hope they can, because right now I’m feeling rather hopeless.

My Dream Room

Posted on by Astrid
Daily writing prompt
Write about your dream home.
View all responses

When I saw this prompt, I was pretty sure I had written a zillion posts answering this very same question on here already, but when I did a quick search on my blog, I found just one: a post I wrote in 2021. This was long before I decided to move out of Raalte and then move out of the intensive support home again. Then again, neither of those moves had to do with the interior of the homes I resided in.

In fact, my room in Raalte was the best room I’ve had in a care facility so far, except for maybe my apartment in the independence training home. My current room, though not bad, is one of the worse ones in terms of its set-up. For one thing, it’s the very first room from the living room. This has its positives, but a huge negative is the fact that the living room television is literally set against my room’s wall. I’m not complaining – when I came into care, I never sought a dream home. I sought reasonably good care.

Now, to actually get to the point, I’m going to share some things my dream home would have.

First, it’d not be large. It’d not be a home at all, really. More like a studio. After all, I already occasionally got lost in my apartment in the intensive support home. I’d like a room similar to the one I had in Raalte, really, maybe slightly larger. It’d have its own bathroom and kitchen, of course, like I had in Raalte too. It would, unlike my room in Raalte, be on the ground floor and have a door that would lead to a patio where I could sit outside on warm days.

The bathroom would be luxurious, with its own bathtub for me to relax in. The kitchen would have all the things I need to cook a simple meal with assistance, like a microwave oven, fridge, etc.

Lastly, there’d be an armchair for me to relax in. Then there’d be all my regular furniture, such as my desk, craft table, cabinet and bed. Now that I think of it, I wouldn’t want a sensory waterbed, as then the room would be either too crowded or too large for me to navigate. I’d maybe like an additional sensory room. Not yet sure of that one.

I would, of course, decorate my room/apartment/whatever. I’d have my walls painted the same pink color I currently have on my wall here at the care home. My spouse reminded me that I had originally wanted my wall here to be painted lilac. I replied that I’d already written in this post that I’d go with pink, so pink it will be. I would add colorful, handmade wall art. In fact, this might become a reality here in my current room someday in the not too distant future, as one of my staff helped my fellow residents create wall art with colorful pieces of felt and I’m pretty sure with her help I could do a similar work.

To Freewrite vs. Free to Write #JusJoJan

Posted on by Astrid

I started and restarted this post several times. I really want to broaden my horizons in the writing department. To write more, but also to write more outside of my comfort zone. In a way, I want to experience the freedom I experienced when crafting my independently-created unicorn in the writing process too.

But, as with my crafting, in the writing department, fear is holding me back. Specifically, the fear of failure. The fear of my posts not being read, not being appreciated, getting zero likes or comments. If I don’t get any engagement, why bother blogging, after all? I could just as easily keep a private journal in Day One.

Then again, even in Day One, I censor myself when writing. Even where no-one reads my writings except for possibly my future self, I’m constantly telling myself I’m a bad writer, constantly editing out mistakes or “inappropriate” wording. Yes, I even did this with my Morning Pages back when I did those several times over the past couple of years.

Is it, however, really that I’m looking to freewrite? Or is it more that I want to be free to write? What’s the difference? Well, this is a freewrite.

However, there are other ways in which I let my censor, as Julia Cameron calls it, dictate what I can and can’t write. So many in fact that I hardly write self-growth posts anymore because these don’t get much engagement, even though these are the posts I sometimes feel inspired to write. When I am free to write, I write what I feel inspired to write even when this isn’t a huge success by externally-determined standards like my stats. And who knows, maybe it will be a success someday.

This post was written for today’s #JusJoJan prompt, which is “writing”.

I’m More Spontaneous

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’m participating in the Writer’s Workshop today and combining two of the prompts. One is to write a post inspired by the word “spontaneous”. The other is to share something you can do now that you couldn’t do a year ago.

I haven’t necessarily learned anything huge over the past year. However, I did improve on my crafty endeavors and the main thing I learned was to be more spontaneous. A year ago, I would follow a YouTube tutorial almost exactly as it was shown. That’s not really creating, honestly; that’s copying. Now though, I create some things using just my concept of them. Like the below cat I created yesterday. It’s not terribly imaginative, I know, but it’s a start.

Polymer Clay Cat

I am also more daring to experiment and less afraid of failing. Like, with the above cat, I used Fimo liquid deco gel even though it might smudge (it didn’t). This decreased fear of failure also led to me crafting the unicorn that I made completely independently just before New Year’s. While courage isn’t necessarily a skill I acquired over the past year, since it’s not a skill at all, it’s definitely helped me improve.

In other areas of life, I am also more spontaneous and more daring than I used to be. The reason is probably in part the fact that my staff give me the necessary predictability rather than leaving me to complete and utter chaos. I’m still on the less spontaneous side of the spectrum, but that’s totally okay.

What “Playtime” Means to Me #Bloganuary

Posted on by Astrid

Today’s prompt from #Bloganuary asks us about playtime. What does “playtime” mean to me? Do I play in my daily life?

Honestly, it depends on how one would define “playtime”. I, as someone who does not work, could consider my day activities “playtime”. I mean, there are individuals who do work-like day activities, but I don’t. Indeed, I’m pretty sure I consider working with polymer clay “playtime”.

For 2024, I am considering restarting some adapted version of The Artist’s Way. I mean, I cannot do Artist’s Dates completely by myself, but I can be more creative doing them than I would otherwise be. As Julia Cameron says, doing the work of the Artist’s Dates and other tasks in the book is really play, and I’m pretty sure I agree.

I also sometimes do actual things considered “playtime” by most adults, such as go on swings or roundabouts. We have adult-size playground equipment on institution grounds that I occasionally go on.

An All-Inclusive Society?

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Today I am answering Jewish Young Professional’s Provocative question. The question is whether it is possible to create a society or community that is all-inclusive of everyone.

Like most other people, I think a society that truly meets everyone’s needs, isn’t possible. After all, some people’s human needs clash with other people’s human needs.

Then there is the complicating factor that not everyone wants to include everyone else. How do we deal as a society with exclusionary people? Racists, homophobes, transphobes, ableists, etc.? In intersectional feminist spaces, it’s clear: these get an instaban. But then, is the society still inclusive of everyone? I mean I for one, belonging to quite a few marginalized groups and being an ally to others, don’t care that racists, homophobes, transphobes, ableists, etc. would get a one-way ticket to the moon if they act out their exclusionary nonsense. But then society would be inclusive of them only as long as these people shut up. And I don’t mind privileged people shutting up, honestly, but that’s not the question. The question was not whether we could create a society that centers marginalized people, but a society that’s inclusive of everyone.

JYP also asked about religion and politics. Well, there’ve been too many wars based on religion and political disagreements for me to believe a truly inclusive society in this respect is possible either. In short, no, an all-inclusive society is really an illusion.

This doesn’t mean we can’t create a more inclusive society. We have, after all, still a long way to go before even thinking that our society comes close to including everyone. And, of course, I’m referring to my society, a modern, high-income country. Even here, disabled people, LGBTQ+ people, people of color, Muslims, women even, are still regularly being excluded. To claim that everyone is accepted these days, is an incorrect statement, and usually one used to silence the marginalized person one is speaking to.

In short, a truly all-inclusive society isn’t possible, but that doesn’t mean we can’t strive for a more inclusive society. And, in my opinion, we should strive for that.

It’s Not About Them #SoCS

Posted on by Astrid

Lately, I’ve fallen back into the habit of comparing the care I get or don’t get to that which another client gets. I did it with the full-time one-on-one client at my previous home too and it got so far that I ended up calling her derogatory names for getting what I felt I needed. Which, for clarity’s sake, wasn’t full-time one-on-one, but to have staff not leave me during my assigned one-on-one hours for every little thing. And more importantly, I felt it was unfair that she was assigned familiar staff 100% of the time while I got stuck with the temp workers most of the time.

This same issue is what’s at stake again now, since there’s another one-on-one (not sure it’s full-time) client here who doesn’t need to deal with temp workers. I didn’t mind this at all until one day earlier this week, the staff schedule got turned upside down to accommodate him and as a result I got stuck with a temp worker who was here for the first time.

This illustrates my point: I don’t care what others get. It’s not about them, it’s about me.

To solve my unfairly comparing myself to others and falling into an endless trap of what others have or do to “deserve” the care I feel I need, I am going to ask my assigned staff to write up a note saying that staff not engage in arguments about other clients’ care. For clarity’s sake, this is not the same as saying “No arguing, I’m leaving”, like the staff were originally told to do at the slightest opposition from me regardless of topic. Rather, I’d like the staff to listen to me and validate my feelings regarding my unmet needs. After all, to me, it doesn’t matter what someone else gets or doesn’t get, but when my care is compromised, I feel bad.

This post was written for today’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday, for which the prompt is “to me”. I realize I didn’t make the phrase central to my piece, but this was what popped into my mind.