Brave Choices

Posted on by Astrid

A few weeks ago, I was in the mood for writing but didn’t know what about. I downloaded Google Keep on both my PC and iPhone and just started writing based on a prompt I saw on the See Jane Write website. I had never heard of this site. The prompts for the month of November were all two words long. The prompt I used was “brave choices”.

I doubt I’ve ever made a brave choice. Most of my major life choices were made out of fear or avoidance rather than courage. Either that or they were really other people’s choices I didn’t rebel against, or not well enough.

For example, my choice to live independently, wasn’t really my choice. I was pressured by my parents into saying this was my goal after completing independence training and, once everyone except for my parents agreed it wasn’t a realistic outcome, the pressure had increased to the point of being unavoidable.

Similarly, my choice to live with my wife, wasn’t really my choice either. She wanted it, but hadn’t realized all the complcating factors, like my substantial care needs. She had good intentions, mind you, thinking our love would conquer anything. It didn’t. Thankfully, I was able to make the choice to go into the care facility in Raalte before our relationship suffered irreparable damage.

If there’s one choice I made in my life that could be considered brave, it was this choice. My parents and former professionals would likely say this choice was made out of fear too. They might have been right. Maybe, if I’d been truly brave, I’d have been able to organize my own care whilst living with my wife. Then again, now that we live separately, neither of us wants to live together ever again.

I still wonder whether I could improve my life if I didn’t make decisions out of fear or avoidance anymore. I mean, the reason I rarely try out new skills of independence, is fear, namely the fear that my staff will always expect me to possess an ability I’ve shown once, as well as other related or even unrelated abilities. This fear isn’t unfounded, but it’s holding me back more than it should.

Values and Vision: Determining What’s Important in Life to You #AtoZChallenge

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’m still struggling a bit, but I was pretty creative again today. Besides, I’m still going strong with the #AtoZChallenge and that’s an accomplishment in its own right. Today’s letter is V and I want to talk about values and how to have a vision for your life.

Like I shared when discussing positive psychology, living a life in accordance with your values is part of living the Good Life, which is the second step on the ladder to happiness. Having a vision in life, ie. something bigger than yourself to live for, is part of the highest step in happiness, the Meaningful Life. If it’s merely something personal you want to accomplish, a life vision can also help you if you’re “just” on the second step. But how do you decide on your values and create a vision for your life?

Most people live by many different values. When Googling, I actually found long lists of possible values. For example, one started with achievement, authenticity, autonomy, beauty and I’m pretty sure I forgot some starting with A and B. However, the key to living your life with intention is to narrow them down and decide which five or so are the most important to you. You may then even be able to choose two or three that are your absolute top priority. These are your core values and these will most likely be fairly stable throughout adulthood. Deciding whether your decisions align with these values, will guide you on your path towards a more meaningful life.

A way to figure out your core values is to have an honest conversation with your inner wise person, ie. yourself as a person nearing the end of their life. How would you like to be able to look back at your life?

You will, when you’ve figured out your core values, also be able to set a vision for your life. Put simply, this is what you ideally want to see when you reflect on your life near the end of it.

So are core values actually science-based? In general, yes, but it depends on how you use them. If you merely write down a few values and never actively work on living by them, you will not gain anything from them. Yes, that includes my choosing a word for the year and only thinking about it once a month when it was time to do my monthly reflection. However, if you hold all your important decisions up against your core values, they will certainly be helping you live a more meaningful life.

It’s Just Us, Or Is It?: Power Dynamics in Care

Posted on by Astrid

I am currently reading a book called The Dark Side of the Mind by Kerry Daynes, a memoir by a female forensic psychologist in the UK. In her first chapter, Daynes writes about how her college date tells her there’s no justice, it’s just us. Then she goes on to talk about her first job, which is really an unpaid position, at a correctional facility called Wakefield. There, the philosophy is “us vs. them”, “us” being the “good” guys (or girls), ie. the staff, and “them” the inmates, who often committed horrific crimes, such as rape, murder or both. This “us vs. them” mentality was often used to reinforce a rather exaggerated power dynamic, to say the least. As it turns out, it’s not that black-or-white, in that, several years later, a staff member Daynes worked with was given a long sentence for similar horrific crimes.

I want to use this example to talk about power dynamics. Not in the prison system, as I have no experience with that, but in the care system. In a sense, in care, at least as much so as in prison, there should not be “us” and “them”, since we’re all people first. The mere fact that I am disabled and my staff are currently non-disabled, shouldn’t make a difference. Neither should it when it comes to my fellow residents who are deemed unable to make their own decisions.

I just had a discussion with one of my staff about this. This person maintains that she’s in fact at my service, almost like I’m her employer. When I pointed out that she gets to decide when it’s necessary to physically drag me to my room (not that she personally ever has), she said this is because I live with nine other people. Yes, but if I lived with nine other people without staff, such as in student accommodation, no-one would be dragging me to my room for yelling and, if the situation did escalate too much, the police (who everyone except for maybe the police themself admits have a position of power) would be called.

I also mentioned some situations from the intensive support home. For example, staff grabbing a large cookie while giving us a tiny biscuit. “Who’s boss here?” one of the staff once actually asked one of my similarly opinionated but unfortunately less eloquent fellow residents. She named the names of the support coordinators. “And when they’re not here?”, he continued, clearly wanting to hear that the available staff are. I pointed out later that no-one is boss here, only to be told that this was a simplified way of explaining this to my fellow client.

When I told my current staff about this and other examples, I was told this is the way the intensive support home works and that she doesn’t agree with it. At the same time, she told me that, if I want a large cookie, I can get it because I’m capable of making my own decisions, while my fellow residents can’t. While I understand this, on a large scale, may be so, it isn’t necessarily true: I don’t technically follow my agreed-upon food plan either and that’s considered my responsibility, while if a fellow client points to a single extra cookie, that’s denied because their family (or the staff) agreed on a food plan. However, if I have an extra cookie, it will do the same for me as it will for another person (unless said cookie has allergens in it for the other person or whatever). I wanted to raise awareness of how, on a micro level, staff, including the staff who believe they’re at our service, are exercising their power more than they should be.

Power dynamics, for clarity’s sake, cannot easily be eradicated. Nor am I absolutely sure they should be. However, those in positions of power should be extra conscious of their position. And especially when it comes to situations in which they believe they have every rhight to make decisions for another person, such as when I got dragged to my room and when the staff decide another resident cannot have a large cookie (but said staff and I can).

Decisions Made for Me

Posted on by Astrid

Hi all. I’m joining Denyse’s #WWandPics once again. This week, she talks about the letter D words that relate to her, among which “decisions”. I wanted to write about decisions too, but this time, about the reality of decisions being made for you. This may not happen to non-disabled adults much, but it happens to me all the time.

Like with my upcoming move. I know next to nothing about my future care home and, when I told my assigned staff that this frustrates me, she pointed out that I’ll move there anyway so how would giving me more info help?

Honestly, I wish I were given some way to have any level of input into the process. I know the reason the powers-that-be have decided to give me no choice is probably because they feel I’m too critical anyway. They believe I’m looking for the perfect home, which they and I know doesn’t exist given my rather complicated care needs.

They always tell me that I wanted to leave the care facility in Raalte, which was near-perfect compared to my current one. I did, in a way. That is, I wanted to have a discussion with the behavior specialist to explore the possibility of me finding another care home. That’s not the same. And they were the ones not being up front with me about all the things I’d lose if I wanted to live on institution grounds and have fellow clients with whom I could speak. They may’ve technically allowed me to make the decision to move here, but they gave me the bare minimum amount of information to make that decision.

Now they’re not letting me make a decision at all. It makes me feel intensely powerless and that’s a really distressing feeling. And who will be in trouble if my behavior doesn’t improve? Yup, me. Some staff have come to call me spoiled, in fact, so the burden is on me to show them I can handle whatever this new home has to offer. If I can’t, well, too bad, then I either have to learn to live with the decisions made for me or find myself another way to cope.

The Wednesday HodgePodge (August 23, 2023)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’m joining the Wednesday HodgePodge once again. Here goes.

1. What’s your earliest memory?
My third birthday. My paternal grandma brought me a doll from Berlin and my father taught my sister and me the German word for “doll” (“Puppe”). My sister and I, of course, laughed really hard about this, as “Puppe” sounds just like the Dutch verb for “poo”. The doll, by the way, is named Roza, because my father also said Rosa (but then again, as a child I had no clue how to spell it) is a German name.

2. What’s something about you today that the old you would find surprising?
The fact that I live in an institution. Until I was about 25, living in an institution was my worst nightmare.

3. Do you like to fish? Are you a fish eater? Favorite fish (to eat)? Favorite way to prepare fish?
I’ve only been fishing once and found it intensely boring. Then again, I can’t see so that takes away what little fun I imagine there is to fishing.

I do like fish, but usually just the once with the not-too-distinct flavor. The only exception is tuna, which I love and would probably be my favorite fish to eat. When my sister turned vegetarian and showed my parents info about the unethical consequences of tuna eating, they for a while refused to buy it. I got really upset.

4. What’s your biggest first world problem?
I’m not sure whether my unsuitable care home counts as a first world problem. I guess it does, since most disabled people in developing countries don’t have a choice where they live at all. Neither do I at this point, in the sense that I know next to nothing about my future care home and am told that since I’m moving anyway it’d be pointless to give me more info. I have a post scheduled for tomorrow on this topic. In any case, I’m still fortunate in many ways I guess.

5. What one word would you use to describe your year thus far?
Chaos.

6. Insert your own random thought here.
I almost broke my record of active calories burned on my Apple Watch today. Honestly, I think relatively speaking I already broke it, since my last record dates from September of last year and I weighed 12kg more than I do now, so burned off more calories with the same physical exertion. I still need 20 exercise minutes to break my exercise record (which I set on the same day), but I won’t do that. Those 15 active calories I still need to burn for my movement record should be doable though. Today, unlike the time I set my old record, I did a variety of workouts: walking, swimming, the stationary bike and dancing.

How My Attachment Style Affects My Decision-Making

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I have been contemplating my decision to move to my current care home from the previous one a lot lately. My assigned staff often asks me whether I might be a little too critical, because my old care home offered near-perfect supports and yet I wanted to leave. Indeed, it could be this is a factor. I’m an Enneagram type 4, after all, always looking for that elusive ideal.

However, I am also insecurely attached. Attachment is formed in early childhood between the infant/toddler and their primary caretaker. When there is frequent disruption in this attachment and/or the caretaker isn’t a safe person for the child (as in the cases of neglect or abuse), this attachment doesn’t form or forms insecurely. This then will lead to problems later in life with relationships, both romantic and otherwise.

The different attachment styles described differ per professional, but I primarily score as anxious-preoccupied. This means that I am essentially looking for close connections to people, be they my romantic partner or otherwise, but also intensely fear them abandoning me. I also relate strongly to the ambivalent attachment style, which is essentially a mix between avoidance and preoccupation. This would explain why I push people away when I sense they might be abandoning me.

This is where my decision to move out of my old care home comes in. Starting at the end of 2021, half the team of my old care home left their positions, including some staff I could get along with really well. I remember, shortly before making the decision to ask my assigned staff to involve the behavior specialist in finding me a new home, E-mailing that same assigned staff. The contents of the E-mail were rather, well, needy. I expressed the fact that I knew none of the staff currently working at my home could guarantee they’d remain with me for months, let alone years to come. I probably even mentioned my spouse, who, though we have zero intention of divorcing ever, might leave me eventually. That’s life. No-one can predict the future. And honestly, it kind of sucks.

Though my then assigned staff assured me my E-mail had nothing to do with it, she did indeed quit her job several months later. However, the fact that the team as it was when I got my one-on-one support funding, had pretty much fallen apart, gave me the impression I didn’t need to stay for the team. And since otherwise the home wasn’t suitable for me – because the other clients couldn’t speak and needed far more physical care than I did -, I started the search for a more suitable home. Which, as regular readers of this blog will know, I didn’t find. I mean, yes, my fellow clients can speak, but the support approach is very different and not in a good way from what I got at my old home.

My attachment style also means I often come across as very trusting, because I at least initially accept everyone into my life because I have such an intense fear of aloneness. This is often misjudged to be a sign of secure attachment. In fact, recently a relatively new staff tried to get me to join him on a car trip to get food for just the staff during my designated activity time. I felt kind of lured, because I didn’t want to but he was like “it’s fun, I’ll buy you a treat too” and then I didn’t feel comfortable refusing anymore. This should’ve been a big no-go had this person not been a staff member, but since he’s a staff member it was okay, according to one of the other staff I talked this over with. What this staff didn’t realize is that I’ve had previous experiences of risky encounters with men and a history of being a victim of sexual violation too. And, though of course my easily accepting others isn’t to blame for any victimization (that would be victim blaming), it is important to realize I don’t distinguish between those in a position to help me and those who aren’t, like that staff person believed.

Chasing Perfection? #SoCS

Posted on by Astrid

Whenever I think of how bad I feel about my current care home situation, I am reminded of two seemingly contradictory statements from my staff. One is that I think every place is horrible anyway. The other is that I had “gold in my hands” at my old home. These seem contradictory, but really aren’t. They are two sides of the same coin: I am thought of as chasing perfection.

There may be some truth to this idea indeed, but that doesn’t negate the fact that one can learn and this place is definitely bad. It isn’t like I just need to accept what I have now just because I can’t have it all. Besides, if people – the powers-that-be, such as the behavior specialists – just had been honest with me about the fact that, indeed, to live with people of higher IQ would mean more expectations and less support, I’d have declined to move. That was, after all, the comment I put at the bottom of my “housing profile”.

And it isn’t like I chase perfection everywhere. Or honestly that I thought, at the end of the day, that this place would be perfect. Yes, when I read the home’s profile on the website, I thought it’d be, but that leaflet is either outdated or simply incorrect. But when the behavior specialist for my old home explained some things about the home, I did realize it wasn’t perfect. Same when I visited here twice. But then again, perfection doesn’t exist. And I was willing to make some sacrifices to live on institution grounds and have fellow residents I could chat with. But not everything I had: all the daily structure, all the useful day activities, all the proper help with ADLs and, interestingly, behavioral regulation too. Because, despite the fact that this home is an intensive support home, which means the residents have significant challenging behavior, whereas my old home was a care-based home, I see more people managing huge wildfires of escalating behavior without realizing the proverbial cigarettes they’ve thrown onto the ground themself.

This post was inspired by today’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday: “perfection”. I am sorry for being repetitive yet again. This whole care home situation is getting old, but I wish that meant I’d actually adjusted to it. I’m not sure I ever will.

Ideal Isn’t Real

Posted on by Astrid

Today is the day the word I picked for #JusJoJan was assigned to, so I’m pretty much obliged to write a post. My original choice for a word was “Home”, but I made up my mind as I wrote my comment on Linda’s post and chose “Ideal”. My plan was to then write about my ideal care situation.

I am not sure I can do it though. An ideal situation, after all, doesn’t exist and chasing it may mean I lose sight of the things I could appreciate in what I already have. That’s possibly what happened with the move to my current care home, much as I struggle to admit it.

Of course, I knew there were going to be drawbacks to this care home, but I minimized them in my mind. When, back in like late 2021, I read up the information on this care home on my agency’s website, it sounded ideal. In fact, I remember at one point telling my staff and some people on an E-mail support group I belong to that it was my dream care home. But that’s judging from a promotional webpage, not reality.

Then when I actually got the opportunity to go here, what I found out on my visits here indeed revealed some more negatives. However, for the most part, these were vague “gut feeling” negatives, not facts. A factual negative was the fact that staff here don’t tell us clients who will be on shift the next day, reasoning that they might fall ill. “But we all come back,” the support coordinator reassured me, “and if we don’t, we’ll tell you.” Well, the one time a staff left so far, I didn’t find out in advance.

Maybe, looking back, there were clearer signs than just my gut feeling that the dream care home was going to turn into a nightmare. I am not sure. Maybe I didn’t ask the right questions. Maybe the staff – purposefully or not – avoided answering the real questions, focusing instead on details. Either way, I can’t help it now. What I can do is never believe something is going to be ideal again. Ideal isn’t real, after all.

The Future Is Not Clear #SoCS

Posted on by Astrid

SoCS Badge 2019-2020

Exactly a month ago, I made the decision to start the process of looking for another care facility to live in long-term. I felt, at the time, that it’d take at least two years before I would’ve found a place and I was fine with that. Now, though I am still fine with the fact that it might take years before I’ve found the near-perfect place, my forever home as it were (oh boy, that sounds like the afterlife to me, haha), the path inbetween not being clear, doesn’t sit right with me.

I like to have control. I don’t like to have made my wishes clear and then not hear from the care consultant for months until he’s heard from an agency or something and they want to meet me. I don’t like the fact that a lot might’ve been discussed by those agencies with my behavior specialist or the care consultant or whatever without me knowing anything about it. That feels too vague. Besides, it feels as though I have no influence over it. Which may or may not be true.

In this sense, the fact that I’m intelligent, works both for and against me. My fellow residents, who have severe to profound intellectual disability, don’t even know anything about such big decisions. Yesterday, the least intellectually disabled of them moved rooms and he seemed to have had little say in the matter. That sounds very scary to me. I want to have a say. Yet if I can’t, and things are made clear at my level of understanding, as they were with him, then maybe it’d be easier.

Now, I do intellectually understand a concept like two years or more, but emotionally, it’s very hard to grasp. I wish the future were more tangible in this sense.

This post was written for Stream of Consciousness Saturday (#SoCS), for which the prompt today is “clear”.

The Best Decision of My Life

Posted on by Astrid

I really want to write, but, as usual when I’m like this, so much is spinning through my mind that I cannot ultimately get anything out of my fingertips. To get myself started, I decided to look at the book Journaling with Lisa Shea and picked one of the journaling prompts on gratitude. It asks us what the best decision of our life was. Was it an easy decision or a hard one? I’m pretty sure I already covered this topic several years ago, but the answer may be different now.

After all, up till quite recently, I would have said the best decision I ever made was to consent to being admitted to the psychiatric hospital in 2007. That, after all, set in motion the wwheels that ultimately got me into the care system. However, looking back, I could just as easily have selected my choice to go to the blindness rehabilitation center in 2005 rather than to university. After all, that was what led me to the training home and to my autism diagnosis.

I honestly don’t want to give the psychiatric hospital people, particularly my last treatment team, the credit they get if I say that getting admitted was my best decision ever. After all, like I have said before, I didn’t make much progress in those 9 1/2 years in the hospital. Worse yet, the only difference between my care arrangement before the hospital and after it, was that my husband was now in my life. My husband deserves the kudos for that, not any mental health professional.

Instead, the best decision I ever made, I made rather offhandly on September 20, 2018. This was the decision to allow my support coordinator to schedule an appointment with her regional care consultant on getting me into long-term care. The appointment itself took place on October 4.

I say I made the decision rather offhandly, in that we were discussingn living options and I eventually said, sort of half-heartedly: “Okay, you can ask your care consultant to come.” In truth, the decision was a really hard one.

Even though I had planned on going into supported housing ever since my initial psych hospital admission in 2007, it felt kind of like I was betraying my husband, my parents, my former treatment team and everyone else by admitting this is what I needed. For this reason, my husband’s first words when I said my support coordinator had scheduled the appt with her care consultant, were very comforting: “You know I support you, right?”