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

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.

School Reunions

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.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (May 4, 2025)

Hi everyone. I’m once again joining #WeekendCoffeeShare on Sunday, as yesterday, I had a busy day and was too tired to write.

Today’s the day we commemorate Dutch people who died in World War II (and in every war, conflict and maybe they now count terrorist attacks too since). Only 5% of Dutch people currently were alive during our liberation on May 5, 1945. I never was all that much of a May 4 and 5 follower, but I have over the past few years learned to be more mindful of the freedom and rights I and those I love have, since they are more and more being threatened. For this reason, I think I’m going to do the two minutes of silence at 8PM this year. I hope I’ll have finished my post by then. I’ve just had dinner, so no coffee for me, but I’d love to offer you a drink.

If we were having coffee, first I’d talk about the weather. On Wednesday, we had our first day when, at the national weather institute in De Bilt, the temperature climbed to above 25°C. On Thursday, here it even got to 28°C. I read that the first day of temps above 25°C usually doesn’t happen until mid-May. I appreciated it though. Today, the daytime temp didn’t get above 13°C.

If we were having coffee, then I’d tell you I’ve done a lot of walking again, as well as riding the side-by-side bike. My May challenge on my Apple Watch is to double my movement goal twice. I already did it once so far, so that should be ridiculously easy.

If we were having coffee, then I’d share that one of the sick staff whom I’d made the polymer clay frog for last week, let me know via her colleague that she was really happy with it. I had originally asked another staff to pass the frog for the other sick staff on to her. Then, on Tuesday, that staff said it may be nice for the two of us to pop by the sick staff’s house on Wednesday so that I could personally give the frog to her. I did ask the staff whose idea this was to text her colleague to ask her permission for us to stop by, since some care workers with good reason don’t want clients to know where they live. Now I for one never even look up my staff online and would certainly not violate their living space. The sick staff gave her permission so one of the side-by-side bike rides was to there. The staff’s kids were home too and one of them asked me where I live. I, being awkward with young kids that I am, originally mentioned the institution town and then said I lived at [staff’s name]’s work, only to realize that [staff’s name] is “Mommy” to the kid.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that the other side-by-side bike ride was to a market once again. I resisted the urge to buy something, as I’d already been to the supermarket on Monday and I reasoned even just strolling the market is a nice experience. Besides, we did have lunch at a fish diner.

If we were having coffee, then I’d share I’m still struggling with the temp worker situation and how much energy goes into explaining everything to them. Sometimes, I think staff get me, while at other times, it seems as though they’re absolutely clueless.

If we were having coffee, lastly I’d tell you that, yesterday, I went to Nijmegen for a cerebral palsy meeting again. It wasn’t the nationwide CP day. That had been in early April but was held in a city that’s a two-hour journey from here, so I hadn’t gone there. Nijmegen is about a 45-minute drive in good traffic. This meeting lasted three hours total and there was no theme. Rather, we gathered in a restaurant and had lunch and some drinks and just chatted. I have met many of the participants a few times before, but there were a few newcomers too. With one of them, I chatted almost the entire time, because we had so much in common. She recommended a few resources to me too.

After the meeting, I had decided to go to my best friend’s parents’ house (ack, “in-laws” is a lot shorter 😉). My best friend picked me up in Nijmegen and drove us there. My best friend’s sister was there for a bit too with her one-year-old son. I really don’t do well with kids, although this one is a lot less loud than my nieces.

I didn’t get back to the institution until 8PM yesterday and went to bed shortly after 10PM. I’m honestly still quite tired.

Friendship: What It Means to Be a Friend #AtoZChallenge

Hi everyone. For my letter F post in the #AtoZChallenge, I had a lot of choices and yet this actually overwhelmed me. I am once again doing a post on a topic I think I covered in 2019 too, ie. friendship. What does it mean to be a friend?

My spouse and I are best friends. Since we aren’t in a traditional relationship due to for example not living together, we need to find other ways to make our relationship work. However, we were friends before we were a couple.

As someone who didn’t have any friends beyond elementary school until I met my now spouse, I am not the best possible judge of what makes a friendship tick. I mean, I can look at what psychologists say about the development of friendships from early childhood into adulthood.

For instance, three-year-olds say someone is their friend because they play with them on the see-saw and “doesn’t want to be their friend anymore” as soon as the other child isn’t any longer interested in the same activity. I have this kind of relationship with some of my fellow residents.

As a child gets older, they develop more perspective about the fact that other children aren’t just momentary playmates, but their viewpoint is still very one-sided. For example, a six-year-old might consider someone their friend because they save them a seat at the bus or give them treats. They don’t yet fully comprehend mutual give-and-take though.

This follows at the next stage, which starts at around age six and continues throughout elementary school age. At this point, children are very fairness-conscious and usually have rigid rules for give-and-take.

At my very best, I am stuck at this stage. Usually though, I am at the second stage, hard as I find it to admit this. I, after all, usually only think of giving something in return for the things (material or immaterial) my spouse gives me when I’m in a very healthy place mentally.

At the next stage, which starts at around age eleven, children develop intimate friendships in which they mutually support each other. They help each other solve problems and confide feelings in each other that they don’t share with anyone else. Like I said, I never had friends beyond elementary school before meeting my spouse. Though I did and do confide in my spouse, I am pretty bad at offering my spouse any emotional support in return.

Finally, adolescents and adults have mature friendships in which they emphasize emotional closeness over anything else. They can accept, sometimes even appreciate their friends being significantly different from them. People at this stage emphasize trust, knowing their friendship will be long-lasting even through temporary separations and differences.

Friends and Buddies

This week’s topic for Throwback Thursday is friendship. I was never really good at making friends. I still don’t have any real friends other than my husband. I mean, of course I could consider some of my fellow clients “friends”, but our relationship isn’t as deep as that of normal adult friendships.

In early childhood, I did have one friend. Her name was Kim and we used to make mud castles together. Or anything out of sand and water really. Kim’s last name translates to “peat” and my father used to jokingly call her “Kim Mud” rather than “Kim Peat”.

When I went to the special school for the visually impaired at the age of five, I started in a first grade class despite being of Kindergarten age. All girls in my class were at least a year older than me and they enjoyed “babysitting” me. In exchange, for the next three years, I’d help them with their schoolwork.

By the age of nine, I transferred to a different school for the blind. Though I did have a friend there, I was also an outcast and got heavily bullied.

My best time socially was my one year at the special ed secondary school for the blind. I had one good friend there, but also got along pretty well with everyone else in my class and most kids in my school in general.

All that changed when I entered mainstream high school at the age of thirteen. Within a month, everyone had formed cliques except for me. A few months later, my favorite clique took me under their wing and pretended to be my friends, only to drop me again when they’d had enough of me. I was friendless for the remainder of the six-year program. I didn’t really care. Or maybe I did, but I was determined to show my parents and teachers that I could earn a mainstream high level high school diploma. And I did. Not that I use it for anything now, but oh well.

Another topic mentioned in the Throwback Thursday post title at least is buddies. This reminds me of the autistic student buddy program I was part of during my two months of attending university. This program assigned a psychology student volunteer buddy to an autistic student to help the autistic with planning their coursework or other activities related to their studies. It worked in theory, but the catch was that these buddies were volunteers helping only with certain things for one or two hours a week at most. At the time, you couldn’t get paid support workers for assistance related to college or university studies, as the reasoning was that if you could be a student in college or uni, you should be able to do the planning and related tasks yourself. Needless to say my buddy got overwhelmed within a week. I feel intensely sorry for her.

The reason I mention this, besides it being in the post title, is the fact that I realize I struggle to maintain a distinction between social and professional relationships and, with the buddy, things got even muddier. I mean, friendships are supposed to be reciprocal, while professional relationships are not. For this reason, I am allowed to unload my shit to a professional without needing to listen to theirs. Professionals, however, get paid, while friends don’t. With the buddy, the situation got complicated, in that my fellow students called on my buddy to calm me when I was in a meltdown. That clearly wasn’t her role.

This thing about lack of reciprocity, however, also probably killed off that mainstream high school friendship I pretended to have. I don’t blame myself entirely though: my so-called “friends” also felt obligated to hang out with me out of pity, and that’s never a good reason to be someone’s friend.

Loneliness Comes From Within: Some Reflections

I am still struggling badly. I have been having flashbacks of the time when I lived on my own in 2007. When I told my husband this tonight, he asked whether any traumatic events happened there. Not really in the classic sense of the word, but I did suffer intensely. The “cage”, as I called my apartment, was a filthy, dark and gloomy place. Neither I nor anyone else had ever thought of making it into a home.

I was intensely lonely during the three months that I lived in that place. Nonetheless, people did reach out to me. I was in touch with several of my fellow students in the linguistics program at university, one of whom lived in my housing complex too.

When I mentioned this, my husband said that loneliness rarely comes from the environment. It wasn’t that no-one cared, as had been the case during most of my high school years. In fact, multiple people reached out to me, but I was closed off to contact with others. I was so convinced that I was unloveable that I didn’t attempt to form genuine bonds with people.

Sadly, it’s still mostly this way. Just a few days back, I was telling my husband that all caring staff eventually leave, referring to the idea I’ve gotten in my head that my assigned staff is not coming back. Indeed, a number of staff have left in the past or told me they had to distance themselves from me due to my behavior. However, a number have stayed too. In particular, my support coordinator from when I lived with my husband, stuck by me till the end.

Of course, staff/client relations are different from friendships. Staff might leave for reasons that have nothing to do with me. Others will come in their place, sad as it may be. Friends though will not necessarily be replaced. And that’s where it hurts more: I feel intensely incompetent at forming friendships.

I mean, though I did have contact with fellow students and people in my housing complex while living on my own, I mostly sucked up their energy. I feel intensely sad about this. I still feel like I’m not able to make friends ever at all. However, there is hope. Now that I (hopefully) am in a stable living situation, I may be able to build on some genuine friendships after all. I already consider some of my fellow clients my friends. I don’t need to rely on them for support, as I (hopefully) have my staff for that. That should be a relief.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (August 14, 2021)

Hi everyone on this beautiful Saturday! The weather is much better than I’d expected yesterday that it’d be. It’s partly cloudy but warm and dry. I like it.

Today, I’m joining #WeekendCoffeeShare again. I just had my afternoon coffee, as seems common when I write these posts. However, I’m pretty sure there’s still some coffee left. Let’s have a drink and let’s catch up.

If we were having coffee, firstly I’d share that I finally went to Lobith last weekend. It was good being there. As I mentioned yesterday, we got pizza (takeout). Other than that, we just chillaxed. Is that even a word?

If we were having coffee, I’d share that I texted my sister on Monday. She’d called me last week because her daughter had been referred to the orthopedic doctor for a leg length difference (her left leg is shorter than her right leg). Apparently, my niece also used her left leg less than her right. My sister wanted to know about the reasons I wear (or should wear) an AFO. I explained about the fact that I had a brain bleed and it’s from that, without mentioning cerebral palsy of course as my parents never mentioned that to me even though I’m pretty sure that’s what it’s called.

As it turns out, my niece has mild hip dysplasia and will be seen by a child orthopedic specialist in Amsterdam someday. Please all pray that the wait won’t be too long. My niece is nearly two-years-old, so it’s pretty late for corrective wear or so I’ve been told.

If we were having coffee, I would tell you that I’ve been doing quite well over the past week. I have mostly felt able to cope with my current situation okay. On Thursday, a fellow client was screaming for almost an hour on end. She does this every once in a while, yet for the first time I didn’t have an impulse to run away. I did get a little threatening towards the client, but the staff were able to calm me down.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you I have been rather crafty of late again. I didn’t finish many projects, but I did practise polymer clay a lot. I also did make a melt and pour soap and massage oil for my friend who lives a few care homes down the road from me. It was her birthday yesterday. I came by at around 10:30AM to give her her presents and was invited to sit down in her garden for coffee and apple crumble. This was really nice.

If we were having coffee, lastly I’d share that tomorrow, I’m going to Ikea with my one-on-one to buy some new furniture for my room. My dining/crafting table is rather wobbly on its legs, so I want a new one. I also want a new second chair for my staff. My staff currently sit on a very clunky office chair with armrests, which for this reason can’t be pushed under the table. I want one similar to my own chair. I’m pretty sure I’ll be successful at finding both a desk or table and a chair. I’m also going to look at a mini fridge, as you may remember I wanted to buy one for in my room too. I don’t intend on actually buying it at Ikea, but I want to take a look at what it’s like so that I know if I have the right picture in my mind. Then I want to order it online next month when I get some extra money with my benefits.

How have you been?

I Am a Rock #SoCS

Today’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday (#SoCS) is “roc”. I didn’t know that even is a word, but we can use words with “roc” in them too. I was immediately reminded of “rock” and then of the Simon & Garfunkel song “I Am a Rock”. As I assume most of you will know, it goes like: “I am a rock, I am an island. And a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries.”

This reminded me of the fact that, at around age thirteen, I would describe my class as a country with lots of states and one of them, me, would be an island. Think Hawaii. This, of course, symbolized the fact that I felt like an outsider or even an outcast in my class.

One day, I showed a girl in my class the piece about the island. This girl promptly decided to type on my laptop and let my text-to-speech read: “Astrid is my friend.” She probably felt pity for me, as the friendship never lasted. It was rather based on rules, as was my entire class’s associating with me.

Like, before I found my way around the school by myself, classmates had to sighted guide me around. There was an entire schedule which had the girls be sighted guide and the boys carry my backpack, until I decided, with a little nudging, that I could carry my own backpack. I mean, yes, it was heavy with my laptop and all, but so is every early secondary schooler’s backpack. From then on, the boys would sighted guide me too.

This meant I had to sit with them during recess. After the island story incident with my “friend”, she and her clique allowed me to sit with them everyday during recess even if it wasn’t their turn to be sighted guide.

At the beginning of my second year at this school, I decided I’d had it with sighted guides and especially with the schedule. I tried to find my way by myself, often struggling, but this was better than to have people assigned to me who didn’t want to associate with me. Quickly, that became the entire class, including my “friends”.

I am a rock. I am an island. And a rock feels no pain. Literally. By the end of my second year in this school, I had mastered the coping mechanism of detaching from my surroundings and myself. I felt like I lived in a movie. I still feel that way at times, even though I have no need (I hope) to escape my current life.

Places I and My Family Have Lived

Today, I once again looked to a book of journaling prompts for inspiration for a blog post. One of the prompts in the first chapter of Journal Writing Prompts for Child Abuse Survivors is to list all the places you’ve lived. There may not be any need to elaborate on them, but I am going to share my thoughts and feelings that come up. For this post, I’m just going to talk about the houses I lived in with my parents. Otherwise, this post is going to be way too long.

First up is my parental house in Rotterdam. My parents bought the house a year before I was born. To be quite honest, I have very few memories of this house, even though I lived there until I was nine. I do remember my and my sister’s bedroom, which had a bunk bed in it. My sister slept at the top and I slept at the bottom.

I don’t remember most other rooms in the house. I know my parents must have had a bedroom, but I can’t remember its location relative to the kids’ bedroom.

I do remember the garden. It was small, but still big enough to play in. It had swings and a sandpit. I loved to play here with my childhood friend Kim.

I also remember the neighborhood. I played in the “thick street”, a square bit of pavement between two blocks of houses. I also often went to the playground across the road from there. When I had lost some of my vision at around age eight, I felt too scared to cross the road.

Like I said, I lived here until I was nine. Then, my family and I moved to Apeldoorn. We moved to a quiet neighborhood. The house we moved into, had a large kitchen-diner and a living room downstairs. We called the living room the “library” because it housed my mother’s huge book collection. Upstairs where three bedrooms, two large and one very small. One was my parents’ bedroom. The small room was my mother’s office, while the other large bedroom was my father’s.

My sister and I each had a bedroom in the attic. I remember not wanting to have my own bedroom at first, probably because I was used to my sister’s company when going to sleep. I eventually grew to like it though. I had the same bed for all of the years I lived here, one of the original bunk beds. My sister claims I got hers and she got mine after the move.

The other two smaller rooms in the attic were a laundry room and a guest bedroom.

We had a large garden. The first summer we lived here, my paternal grandma gifted us a wooden play set that had swings and climbing equipment. I could be found on the swings many hours each dry day until I was at least fourteen.

During the first few years that I lived in this house, I loved exploring the neighborhood. It had at least four playgrounds within a five-minute walking distance from my home. I would often roam about trying to find new playgrounds farther and farther off. When I lost more of my vision at around age twelve, that mostly stopped. Besides, of course I was too old for playgrounds then. I still went to the nearby shopping center regularly, often getting lost on my way.

I generally really liked the house in Apeldoorn. When my parents were trying to sell it and my husband and I were looking for a home, my parents initially offered it for rent to us. We however had the provision that it’d go off the market for a while. Of course, this wasn’t really reasonable. My parents sold the house in December of 2013. I am glad in a way now that they did, as now I have no need to be reminded of the house and my childhood when I don’t want to be.

A Productive Wednesday Morning

I got up pretty early this morning at a little past seven o’clock. It wasn’t that I wanted to get up this early, but I just couldn’t go back to sleep. Having gotten up so early did cause me a bit of stress later on, as it’d mean I’d have to wait several hours before day activities started. Thankfully, I made it through.

At ten o’clock, my day activities staff came to my room. I had already had coffee with one of the morning staff, but was happy to have another cup.

Then we went for a walk. My knee still hurt, so I had to walk relatively slowly and got in only seven active heartrate zone minutes. I’m trying not to beat myself up about that.

On the way back to the facility, I asked my staff whether we could call a woman who lives in one of the other homes that afternoon. I used to hang out with this woman a lot when the day center still operated as before COVID. My staff suggested we check whether she was at the day center in her home’s assigned room or outside and she was. I had a socially distanced chat with her and her staff. It was good to see she was doing pretty well.

Then I returned to my home. I told my staff I wasn’t ready for resting yet and wanted to do something. She suggested we do some beading. I made the below keychain.

Purple, heart-shaped keychain

While we were working on the keychain, the physical therapist came by. She said that my knee pain is probably from my not wearing my shoes while indoors. My shoes have arch supports in them, which I do need when walking at all times apparently, not just outdoors. I struggle to wear my shoes when not going outside though, because I cannot tie or untie my laces independently and the shoes don’t feel comfortable when I’m sitting. The physical therapist made some suggestions, but I got majorly overwhelmed. She then went out of my room to discuss her suggestions with just my staff.

Then my staff and I went into the kitchen, where another staff was making hamburgers. I had two buns with a hamburger on them for lunch. I also had some bell pepper, tomatoes and cucumber slices, as well as a kiwifruit. It was delicious!

My lunch of hamburgers

Overall, I’m pretty pleased with how I coped this morning. I wasn’t expecting the morning to be this productive when I got up. This afternoon, I plan to relax a bit with my new essential oils in my diffuser. I’m really curious about the cardamom in particular.