The Hardest Part of Being Me

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Today I’m joining the Writer’s Workshop. One of the prompts this week is to elaborate on the most difficult aspect of being you. This is a fitting prompt, as I’ve been struggling again lately.

I could respond to this prompt in several ways. There are things that make me stand out in a negative way in society. For example, autistics are not commonly valued in a neurotypical-centered world. I was reminded of this yesterday when I read an article on the Center for Consultation and Expertise website about the difficulties autistic women in particular face. I for one am often told that I’m only mildly autistic if I’m even autistic at all. This stings, as well my autism diagnosis was confirmed four or five times due to constant doubts among professionals and yet especially for someone assigned female at birth, I’m quite a stereotypical autistic. Yet because I was assigned female at birth, people attribute my behaviors to other things, like borderline personality disorder.

However, autism as a whole isn’t something that is difficult about being me. Rather, the way society doesn’t accommodate me as an autistic person, makes life difficult for me.

Instead, I’m going with a specific trait that might be attributable to autism but also to the brain injury I acquired shortly after birth or other things: my poor distress tolerance and general emotion regulation issues.

These are, like I said, also possibly attributable to autism. Many autistics face these challenges. In my case, it’s however also the fact that these problems are being misunderstood that makes it hard for me to live with them. Like I said, many autistic women/AFABs get diagnosed with borderline personality disorder or the like and treated like they’re purposefully acting out for attention. Emotion regulation difficulties are among the core traits of BPD, yet they are also part of neurodevelopmental conditions like autism or ADHD. I would like to say that even people with genuine BPD aren’t purposefully acting out for attention, but that’s still what the current establishment claims.

I’m struggling in particular with the fact that, occasionally, I seem to be able to cope with distress quite well and at other times, I’m seen as the queen of sweating the small stuff. This has to do with my difficulty figuring out when I’m overstepping my own limits (or when I’m being pushed beyond my limits by others). I honestly don’t know how to break this cycle yet, as when I seem okay, people usually keep adding on to my load of things to deal with. Then when I snap, they see it as me being purposefully difficult. I’m hoping I’ll at some point find a way to deal with this.

Wife #WotW

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. No #WeekendCoffeeShare this week, so I thought I’d find another way to sum up my week. I’m joining Word of the Week. It’s often hard for me to pick just one word or phrase to summarize my week. This week’s is “wife”. I contemplated other words and phrases, like “divorce prep”, “stressors”, etc., but my wife is the one who’s pulled me through most of the stressors.

For those not aware, my wife and I, who have been best friends for over eighteen years and married for over fourteen, will be getting a divorce sometime in the next couple of months. The reasons are personal and mostly irrelevant, as we’ll remain best friends hopefully for life.

Last Monday, my wife found out that the practical part of the reason we didn’t go through with divorce when we were first deciding on it last year, isn’t likely relevant to us. This was a financial reason that I won’t go into. Suffice it to say that, when we saw the mortgage advisor on Tuesday, we found out that even in the worst case scenario, both of us will manage financially.

I do struggle emotionally with the idea of divorce and particularly the fact that our house will be fully signed over to her. Not that I ever lived in that house or that I’m ever going to again. Practically, it’ll make no difference, but it does feel kind of off that I’ll essentially be signing myself out of the opportunity to live in a “normal” house for life. Then again, in reality, I did this in 2019 when moving into long-term care.

On Wednesday, my wife and I established a pattern of multiple, long phone calls. That day we were on the phone seven times. I was struggling with feelings of self-hatred over the ways I’ve treated my wife poorly over the years. Particularly, I was struggling with the idea of emotional vs. cognitive empathy. I’m an emotionally sensitive person or so my wife says, but I still end up hurting my wife and other people regularly. I guess that’s me being autistic though.

I also talked to my wife about how I’m regularly being confined to my room for having meltdowns in the living room. I somewhat see the reason behind this, though not fully because my behavior scaring other residents, isn’t the full story (there’s also some part about my being presumed competent enough to hold it together). However, what I clearly don’t understand is staff’s inability and might I say regularly unwillingness to help me prevent having a meltdown. I’m still kind of struggling with the battle between autonomy and protection.

Yesterday, I was trying to figure out how to get to a cerebral palsy meeting in Utrecht next week. The restaurant the meeting is being held at, cannot be reached by ParaTransit taxis. I might be able to travel by train, but that’d be quite a challenge too. Again, it was my wife helping me make decisions. I’ll most likely not go to the meeting this time, but remain in the WhatsApp group so that I’ll get a feel for the other people attending and have more time to make arrangements. By the way, my wife and I had four phone calls and she said we’d better create a new pattern or we’d have to call each other a negative amount of times tomorrow (7-4-1-etc.). Maybe I’m wrong though, as my wife said the number of times we’d be calling each other had to be a prime number and four isn’t one.

My 2026 Word of the Year

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’ve been debating for a few weeks now whether to choose a word of the year (WOTY) this year. I did so some years, but haven’t had a WOTY for a few years. I just came upon Deb’s announcement of her WOTY and this gave me the kick in the behind I needed to decide on one.

So what will my word of the year for 2026 be? I’ve had a few on my mind, but finally settled on: EXPERIENCE.

This year, I hope to experience more of what life has to offer. This includes being more mindful of my daily activities, purposefully choosing ones that enrich me. This includes crafting, cooking and baking, blogging and writing in general and reading. Today, despite struggling quite badly and feeling depressed, I managed to craft and write.

Like I shared when writing about my hopes for 2026, I also intend to expand my social circle. I feel rather insecure about this, being that I’m nearly 40, autistic and multiply-disabled. However, I’m embracing the opportunities to socialize that come my way. Today, I did try out Discord again in hopes of finding the community I used to find on forums back in the ’00s. It’s not the most intuitive social networking app, but I’m getting the hang on it.

I should say that I used to do with Discord servers what I do with Subreddits and Facebook groups, ie. I collect them as it were. This needs to stop. After all, social circles aren’t based on the number of likes or comments on a social media post. It’s about quality, not quantity. I struggle with this. It’s probably in part related to my anxious attachment and the fact that I’ve had more than a few groups I was deeply invested in only to be kicked out. Then again, I didn’t invest in genuine personal connections other than with my wife. That needs to change. If I want to experience all that life has to offer, I have to offer a part of myself too. This is scary, but I hope it’s doable.

Fear (Or Another Four-Letter F Word)

Posted on by Astrid

Fear. I’ve used this word as a starting point for my writings many times. The idea comes from Mari L. McCarthy’s journaling prompts. The idea is to pick a four-letter F word and write about it or use it as a prompt. Well, I’m doing that now, but I doubt I’m actually going to write about fear. I honestly don’t know what to write at this point and am not feeling anything in particular. That is, I guess I “should” be feeling something, but I don’t know what. Alexithymia. That’s what I believe this is called. Any emotional state for me is “good”, “bad” or “neutral” like right now. I don’t ever feel totally relaxed I believe. There’s always some level of stress or anxiety or fear in my body or mind.

My movement therapist tries to tell me that my body needs to get used to the feeling of being relaxed, because due to my early childhood trauma, it never learned to trust this feeling. That makes some sense, in that I almost always feel like I’m on high alert even when I’m half asleep. Is that even possible? And if so, isn’t it just normal? Do I even know what “normal” is, being that I’m autistic and otherwise neurodivergent, multiply-disabled and a trauma survivor? I doubt it. But if I’ve lived my life like this for nearly four decades, is there any way of changing it? I hope there is, because this feeling of always being on high alert is exhausting.

This is another freewrite I originally typed up in Google Keep, then finished here.

Disabled Ace Day

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I once again haven’t been active on the blog much. I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts lately, mostly true crime. Today though, I decided to check out the podcast The Ace Couple. In their most recent episode, which came out today and which I’m currently listening to, the podcast hosts said that it’s disabled ace day today. Ace, for those not aware, is short for “asexual”.

Like I shared when writing my post for coming out day, I’m for the most part asexual. I’m still figuring out where exactly I fit on the asexual spectrum. For those who don’t know, since sexuality isn’t an all-or-nothing thing, asexuality is a spectrum describing anyone who experiences significantly less sexual attraction to other people compared to the general population. People who are not asexual, are commonly called allosexual (“allo” being Greek for “other”). This also clarifies that people on the asexual spectrum, even people who are altogether ace, may experience sexual desire and pleasure.

I do not claim to be an authority on asexuality. Had I been able to be open about my queerness all this time, I might’ve been able to gather more information without feeling guilty. Like I said, I’m still figuring things out.

This is also where disability comes in. Commonly, it’s thought that disabled people, particularly those with intellectual or developmental disabilities, don’t experience the same sexual feelings as non-disabled people do. This is simply not true, although disabled people are more often taught to suppress our sexual feelings. After all, particularly those with intellectual and developmental disabilities are too often seen as “children in adult bodies”. I myself have used these analogies when describing emotional development. Because it finally enabled me to get sort of okay care, this analogy appeals to me even though it’s inherently ableist.

When a disabled person identifies as asexual or somewhere on the ace spectrum, it is then too easily thought that this is because of the way the person was raised or educated. This is the counterstereotype I so often used to talk about in my early days on WordPress (oh my, I need to bring some of those old posts back): if we want to defeat the idea that disabled people can’t have sex, asexual disabled people could be seen as harming the cause, similarly to how I’m seen as harming the cause for community-based support by living in an institution. In reality though, prejudice and oppression are systemic, not individual. Besides, it’s not our job as marginalized people to fit ourselves into society’s neat boxes, whether these are stereotypes or counterstereotypes or other ways of telling us who we are and how we should live our lives.

This doesn’t mean I’m not influenced by prejudice. Regularly, I think I’m too disabled for a relationship and that’s why I’m ace. I’m pretty sure that’s not true, as I do have many years of being in a relationship with my wife before either of us clarified our authentic needs and wants to the other. I remember writing a post back in 2008, which I’m not going to bring back here (don’t worry, wife!), in which I described not knowing whether I was actually attracted to her and thinking I certainly wasn’t interested in sex. If that doesn’t tell me I’m ace, what does?

The more I write, the more memories confirming that I’m indeed asexual, come to mind. I was quite repulsed as a teen, purposefully skipping the biology chapter on reproduction and refusing to read the sex ed material that my parents brought me at around age nine. Then again, I’m pretty sure my refusing to read it was because I hated reading Braille at the time and my parents made quite a big deal of me reading this book.

However, what if my asexuality is in fact related to my being multiply-disabled, including autistic? Does that mean I’m doing the disabled or autistic communities a disservice? I don’t think so, because like I said before there’s no value in dictating who I am. Besides, as someone who lived for twenty years not knowing she’s autistic and yet who was autistic all along, chances are we’ll never know for sure.

I’m joining in with #WWWhimsy.

Care Needs

Posted on by Astrid

Last year, when I was first feeling like I was falling apart at my current care home, I wrote a list of my “needs” and E-mailed it to my assigned staff and support coordinator. I heavily watered down my wishes, thinking a need isn’t the same as a want and whatever comes out of a discussion of my needs, should be working for everybody involved, not just me. For example, I asked for more clarity on what activities I’d be doing each day and offered to use my whiteboard, but also said staff could just ask me what I thought I’d be doing and help me find a suitable activity; this last one was then put into my day schedule, ie. “Staff upon leaving asks Astrid what she’s going to do next”. Needless to say, this didn’t work for me, being autistic, at all, as it leaves the same amount of unstructured chaos as the old wording, which was simply that I had “alone time”, did.

Now, more than a year later and with the Center for Consultation and Expertise involved to help me and my staff improve my quality of life, I’ve written another list, but this time, it doesn’t offer solutions for my unmet needs; rather, it’s simply a list of problems I encounter at this home. In a way, I feel that being solution-focused should be more constructive, but then again this time I have the consultant to think up possible solutions to come closer to meeting my needs.

This post was written for the Six Sentence Story linky, for which the prompt this week is “need”.

Am I a Monster?

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’ve been struggling really badly once again. Nearly three weeks ago, I had an outburst that caused the second staff so far at this home to request to the team manager that she not be required to support me for a while. This staff used to be one of my three assigned staff. Another was a student and has since left this home to continue her education at the intensive support home I used to live at. The third one is still my assigned staff, but she only works a day or two a week.

With the staff who previously requested to not support me for a while, I’ve since talked things over, though she still refuses to be honest about the thing that got me to be angry with her, ie. her using literally every opportunity to assign me a temp worker. Because of this, I’ve felt like I had to apologize for my anger (which I see is necessary) but she wouldn’t have to apologize for or explain her behavior that upset me. With the current staff, I don’t have this issue, but I do mistrust her for having pretended to have talked it over then decided she couldn’t handle it anymore a few days later.

I realize part of the problem is my attachment anxiety. As a result of this, I mistrust people who try to come close and be there for me, because I know that if they truly knew me, they’d reject me. Which is, of course, true in theory at least: no-one in life is there for anyone else unconditionally. And, given that I sometimes don’t know who I truly am, I worry that I’ll be worse than even I can imagine if I let my guard down.

Of course, it’s also a self-fulfilling prophecy, as you can see from the fact that two staff in the past year have already rejected me. The current one even claimed she wouldn’t.

Even if I’m in the midst of severe self-doubt, I am (almost) certain that I won’t become physically violent if I let my guard down. The problem is that words hurt too, and I can unfortunately say quite nasty things even without meaning them. I mean, there’s been one instance, back at the intensive support home, when I hurt someone’s feelings with a literal personal attack: I said that it was her fault that she got hurt during a fellow client’s outburst. This staff never requested to not support me anymore. With the two who so far did here, my comments weren’t intended as they came across and, while they could literally be seen as hurtful, I didn’t mean them personally and had no bad intentions whatsoever.

I struggle intensely with this knowledge, that I don’t intend to hurt people but that I do it nonetheless. I also struggle to figure out a way to stop this. After all, they are not insults that caused these staff to reject me (though I called them both bad names too). If they were the insults, it’d be doable to erase these from my vocabulary, as I’ve mostly successfully done with certain other words. However, like I said, they were their interpretations of my comments about how they don’t know me that hurt their feelings. This is harder for me to process, as it means being aware of every possible interpretation of something I literally say. This is quite hard for me as an autistic person with virtually no cognitive empathy.

Besides, as I now realize, I probably have low emotional empathy too, as I wasn’t able to predict that the staff was just going through the motions when I thought we’d talked things over. She in fact supported me through an intense movement therapy session and I didn’t pick on her struggling at all. This makes me feel even worse than the fact that I didn’t realize at the time that my words were hurtful.

This low emotional empathy realization makes me feel like I’m a monster. Aren’t autistics supposed to have high emotional empathy? Aren’t psychopaths and narcissists the ones with low emotional empahty? I mentioned possibly being a narcissist to my wife and she denied I am. Then again, aren’t narcissists masters at making their loved ones believe they are the victim? Is all this my attachment anxiety talking, or is there some truth to the idea that I don’t deserve to be supported?

Do I Have a Mental Illness?

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Several happenings today, including my reading today’s Friday Faithfuls post, made me think about the question whether I have a mental illness. Or should I say mental health condition? Is there even a difference?

People who know me, may be surprised at the fact that I even ask this question. I mean, of course! I spent nearly a decade in a psychiatric hospital. Then again, when I was first admitted, the psychiatrist deciding to admit me made it very clear that she wasn’t diagnosing me with a serious mental illness. I had a diagnosis of autism, of course, which though it is in the DSM and though here in the Netherlands it falls within the realm of psychiatry, isn’t technically speaking a mental illness. To be added to this diagnosis was adjustment disorder, which in short means an inability to cope with the stressors of daily life. Nowadays, people with this diagnosis alone don’t qualify for mental health services, let alone admission to a psychiatric hospital.

But once I was in the system, numerous mental health diagnoses which may fall under the realm of mental illness, were added. My first was impulse control disorder not otherwise specified, which I’m pretty sure was just a way of explaining away my meltdowns without admitting they were due to less than adequate care. I often wondered why they singled out impulse control as the only issue on which they gave me the vague “not otherwise specified” diagnosis. I guess it’s because, unlike my anxiety, depression, disordered eating, etc., my meltdowns did bother other people.

Then, several years later, came (complex) PTSD and dissociative identity disorder. These are mental illnesses, but they are caused by overwhelming circumstances, just like adjustment disorder.

Later came borderline and eventually dependent personality disorder. Finally, I was diagnosed with recurring depression in 2017.

All this to say, whether I have a mental illness or not, isn’t as straightforward as it may seem. I do know that my current care plan lists “mental health problems” as a general “diagnosis”. I honestly try not to care about the specifics of my diagnosis, but I’ve learned the hard way that the specifics can be used against me. For example, when I had the personality disorder diagnoses, I was kicked out of the psych hospital with almost no aftercare because of allegedly misusing care. I wish the higher-ups would look beyond the labels and at the individual.

Neurodivergence and Emotional Dysregulation

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. On Monday, I listened to an episode of the Navigating Adult ADHD podcast. It was on emotional dysregulation and it’s been on my mind ever since.

I don’t have a diagnosis of ADHD, but have wondered for years whether my emotion regulation issues are “just” autistic meltdowns, whether I have borderline personality disorder like my psychologist in the psychiatric hospital used to believe, or whether something else is going on. So far, I haven’t found a satisfactory answer and, with that, I have not found something that helps.

I tried a ton of medications but none truly helped me, except for maybe my antidepressant. That is, obviously my antipsychotic did lessen my emotional outbursts, but it didn’t do so in a pleasant way. In fact, I only felt irritability or I felt nothing. That’s not emotion regulation but being numbed down too much.

I tried dialectical behavior therapy, which I still believe could’ve been helpful if the clinician hadn’t been so horribly invalidating. I mean, there’s quite a world between going along with every single emotion I describe without question (which I realize could be counterproductive) and telling me, albeit implicitly, that my entire way of experiencing things is invalid. I haven’t been involved with DBT for long enough to know whether it in itself is invalidating or whether it was just the clinician being judgmental.

In the podcast, the speaker described six ways in which emotional dysregulation can show up. I related to all of them, though some more than others. For example, my low frustration tolerance is truly debilitating. So is my inability to calm down. I literally still fret over things that happened at the intensive support home and these influence how I react to my current staff. My spouse and I also regularly fight over both of our (but more so my) inability to let go.

The things I relate less to, interestingly, are things I see as relatively “positive”. For example, I do get slightly over-excited at times, but not to an extreme degree. Then again, the fact that I don’t experience it to an extreme degree, is probably why I see it as “positive”: after mulling over negative things for weeks, I’d love something to get overly enthusiastic about. In reality though, finding a new hobby and buying all the “needed” supplies within hours, isn’t actually good for me financially. I just wish I’d experience that rush of excitement. Then again, when, rarely, I do, it often leads to even lower lows afterwards.

I’m joining in with #WWWhimsy.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (July 12, 2025)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. It’s been a full week since I last wrote a blog post. I really would like to write more, but I’m struggling massively. Today, I’m once again joining #WeekendCoffeeShare. It’s 7:30PM, so no more coffee for me. I didn’t end up having the green tea I mentioned last week, but I might today. Let’s have a drink and let’s catch up.

If we were having coffee, first I’d talk about the weather. Honestly, I can’t remember what the weather was like early in the week, but the last few days, it’s been good: partly cloudy with some sunshine and daytime highs around 25°C.

If we were having coffee, next I’d tell you that I’m still going strong with my movement goal on my Apple Watch. I never ended up doing those fitness mat exercises I mentioned last week, because I had to cancel my movement therapy session this week. I’m hoping I can do some exercises next week.

If we were having coffee, then I’d share that I’ve been quite depressed lately. On Sunday, I was even talking ending my life and, on Monday, I had a meltdown in which I self-harmed.

The staff who witnessed me talk suicide and who was the only one able to comfort me after my meltdown, asked the behavior specialist and team manager to come and talk with me. This meeting took place on Wednesday morning, but another staff attended it with me. I was masking heavily during the meeting and constantly rationalizing my feelings away. The team manager at the end said that he was glad I was doing okay, because there’ll be a time when he won’t have time for a meeting. That plus something about things possibly getting worse. This caused my thoughts to spiral and this got me intensely desperate. I was able to tell the staff who’d attended the meeting with me, that this comment caused me distress and she would try to relay this to the team manager.

When, about an hour later, the staff who’d witnessed my meltdown etc. came on shift, I expressed my despair to her, By this time, I was inconsolable. I cried and cried and cried and was intensely hopeless.

Finally, the staff contacted the behavior specialist, who came again to talk with me and this staff. This was an okay meeting. I’m still skeptical things will improve, but not entirely hopeless.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that I’ve been reading some books about autism by autistic authors. One is The Autistic’s Guide to Self-Discovery. I’m unfortunately struggling quite a bit to concentrate on it, which in turn reinforces the belief that I’m too broken to benefit from it.

If we were having coffee, lastly I’d tell you that my best friend’s mother came by on Thursday. She brought the new nightstand that she and my best friend had bought at Ikea to replace the one that broke when I fell over it several weeks ago. She also brought me a birthday present: some colors of Sculpey Soufflé, which is a brand of polymer clay I don’t have yet.

We went to have lunch at Hema and then went to the supermarket to buy blueberries and candy bars for me and carrots for her. I also told her about my state of mind, since she’s currently my informal representative. I do want to make my best friend informal representative for me too, especially once we’re formally divorced. I still want my now mother-in-law on it too because she has the capacity to attend meetings with me. However, I mostly want to make sure that in no way are my parents or sister contacted to make decisions about me.