Too Many Toys

Posted on by Astrid

Today’s topic for Throwback Thursday is toys and pastimes. The first question Maggie asks in her post is: “Did you have a lot of toys?” The short answer would be that yes, I was privileged to have quite many toys, but I must say I wasn’t so spoiled that I always got the latest trendy toy.

I probably shared this story before, but I played with toys quite a lot until I was at least eleven. By that time, my parents and teachers were looking into options for secondary schools and their opinions couldn’t have been any different: while my parents wanted me to go to mainstream grammar school, my teachers felt special education at their low-level secondary school for the blind, preferably residential, was in my best interest. My mother one day took me for a “mother-daughter walk” explaining the school’s stance and said that the reason they felt I needed residential special ed, was my behavior. That, in turn, she attributed to my having too many toys. The logic, I never quite understood, but it must’ve been something like my being so spoiled that I somehow felt entitled to display challenging behavior.

She went on to explain that, at the residential school, I would only be allowed one doll and one soft toy. She had given me a Barbie doll for my birthday earlier that summer, but told me she regretted it as soon as she received the school’s report. Needless to say, I always felt weird about playing with dolls from that age on, even though I continued to play with toys and dolls and everything until I was at least fifteen.

Fast forward some ten to fifteen years. When I was in my mid-twenties and diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder, I felt it might help my littles (child alters) if we had toys again. I first bought a box of old Barbies for €70 on a marketplace site. That wasn’t a wise decision as, though the box did arrive, the Barbie dolls were in such bad condition I eventually threw them away. I then decided to buy a couple of new ones at a toy store, but the littles hardly played with them. They prefer soft toys.

Speaking of which, one of Maggie’s questions is whether you still have any toys from your childhood. I don’t, as they’re probably all at my parents’. However, I do still have my stuffed whale Wally, whom I got when I left the NICU at three-months-old. I still sometimes sleep with it.

Wally

Did you have many toys growing up?

Sweet Child O’ Mine: My Inner Child Parts #Blogtober20

Posted on by Astrid

Welcome to another day! The next prompt in #Blogtober20 is “Sweet Child O’ Mine”. I don’t have children and never will. However, I do have inner child parts and am pretty childlike at times, for better or for worse.

As regular readers of my blog will know, I have some dissociative symptoms. Particularly, I experience identity confusion and identity alteration. The latter of those is more commonly known as having multiple personalities. They each have their own names and ages too.

For example, Milou is a cheerful eight-year-old. She loves to learn independence skills like cooking, where appropriate to her age, of course. She is also quite the adventurer.

Suzanne, on the other hand, is quite emotionally disturbed. She is seven-years-old and feels the burden of having to grow up too fast. She often regresses into an emotionally much younger state.

There are many young parts inside of my head. It goes too far to talk about them all here. I mean, it’d probably confuse all of you, as it does me sometimes (hence the identity confusion).

Also, of late, I’m not feeling them that much. Yes, I do feel childlike, but it’s more like I can own the feelings myself. That’s considered a sign of healing. It might be temporary though, as it often is.

Dissociative symptoms such as multiple personality are usually the result of trauma. I, indeed, endured quite a few adverse childhood experiences. I also experience a large gap between my intellectual ability and my emotional functioning. In fact, when being assessed on a scale for emotional development, I was said to function at a level similar to an eighteen-month-old child. On some subscales, I even function at a level similar to a baby. This distinction may be one reason I tend to disconnect from myself.

Of course, everyone has an inner child. Or maybe more than one. However, for me, I often cannot function like an adult would when I’m in inner child mode. For example, when a child part is prominently present in my body, I cannot usually talk like an adult would.

Right now, like I said, I am able to retain both my childlike wonder and my adult functioning for the most part. Like I said though, this may be a temporary experience. I’m not sure and only time will tell.

#Blogtober20

When I Was Five

Posted on by Astrid

This week it’s 29 years ago that I spent a week in the children’s hospital with a collapsed trachea. It closed up on the night of April 28, 1991, the night after we’d celebrated my mother’s birthday, two months before my own fifth birthday. I was unquiet all night or so I’m told, getting up to go to the bathroom a dozen times. Eventually, my parents discovered what was going on and I was rushed to the hospital.

Thankfully, my trachea opened again within a day or two. I don’t know whether I had to be on a ventilator. In fact, I remember very little of these first few days. Then, on May 3, I had surgery to take out my tonsils and adenoids. That surgery had been scheduled for May 21 at another hospital anyway, but the children’s hospital could fit me in earlier now that I was there anyway.

After surgery, I had to stay in the hospital for another few days because I had a breathing tube inserted. That is, I’m not 100% sure the breathing tube was before or after surgery. I remember trying to talk through my tube, which was pretty much impossible.

This was probably also the time in hospital that my parents brought me their supermarket’s brand of peanut butter to eat, as I wouldn’t eat the premium brand the hospital had. Can you tell I was spoiled or autistic or both?

Finally, I got home on May 7. I was already a calendar freak, so I actually remember this without having been told.

As I write this, my inner five-year-old is trying to speak up, but she can’t. I don’t know whether this hospital stay was particularly traumatic for me, even though the going to the bathroom compulsively became a habit of mine in my teens. I may have made Lisel (that’s my inner five-year-old) up, because after all I remember this particular hospital stay so well.

I do think falling ill in early 1992, was more of an adverse childhood experience for Lisel (or me, if you think Lisel is made up). I remember I had some form of the flu, but in my own memory, it wasn’t entirely medically explained. My parents will probably say I’m trying to find clues that aren’t there so am making them up. I mean, they never talked about this experience when, in my teens, I was trying to remember when my negative mood started. They claim, as did I at the time, that it started when I was seven and having to learn Braille. In other words, I was going blind and I knew it but refused to accept it, so was becoming defiant to show a middle finger to the world. It’s easy to say it doesn’t matter. In a way, it doesn’t, but too often, I feel my parents are hiding the truth from me as a way of denying that I had significant mental health issues before the all-important age of seven. I mean, if my problems started at seven, I cannot possibly be autistic or have a dissociative disorder or anything originating in early childhood, right? Besides, I could have been old enough to be manipulative.

Am I being manipulative indeed? Or am I an early childhood trauma survivor? I don’t know and I’m not sure Lisel knows the answer.

Joining in with V.J.’s Weekly Challenge.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (April 12, 2020)

Posted on by Astrid

Happy Easter Sunday to everyone. I am once again joining in with #WeekendCoffeeShare. I just had some decaf and right after that had the only fizzy drink I like, called “Dubbelfrisss”. It is only slightly fizzy though. Have a drink with me and let’s catch up.

If we were having coffee, I would ask all my fellow #AtoZChallenge participants how you’re doing on the challenge. I am so far doing pretty well. The J and K are always hard letters for me, but as you can tell, I found a word for the letter J. I am almost decided on my letter K post too.

If we were having coffee, I would tell you about all the fun the littles (inner children) have had reading jokes and free stories. We are a member of an E-mail list called Laughing_Place, but rarely even read the E-mails sent out until this past week. We laughed out loud at some of the jokes. As Milou said, the littles also had lots of fun going on a seesaw. We went on it again on Friday.

If we were having coffee, I would tell you that I got a lovely Easter card from a woman who lives at another home in our care facility. We can’t see each other much now that the day center is closed, but I talked to her from across her fence.

If we were having coffee, I would tell you about the blog upgrade I purchased. I have the Premium plan now. As you may be able to tell, I now have my own domain and all WordPress.com ads should be gone. I also got Google Analytics, which I’m having a love/hate relationship with. I’m pretty unsure about all the technical design stuff I can do now, as I’m not tech savvy at all. I’m still not entirely sure this was a wise purchase, but so far I’m not regretting it. I might once the 30-day refund period is over though.

I am thinking about starting my blog’s Facebook page back up. This upgrade also comes with cool social sharing options, so I’d bettter make use of them. I want to get a cover photo for my FB page then though and would love a logo for my blog. Any ideas are greatly appreciated.

If we were having coffee, I would share that I reached my daily step goal certainly on both Thursday and Friday and probably on Wednesday too. However, then my Fitbit wouldn’t cooperate, so it says I got 33 steps only. I in fact got nearly 13K steps on Thursday and nearly 12K on Friday.

If we were having coffee, I would tell you that I made a soap for a staff who’s leaving in a week or so. She is a substitute for someone who’s on maternity leave and that other staffer will return on the 21st. The soap is a butterfly that’s been scented with lavender fragrance oil.

If we were having coffee, lastly I would tell you that there’s a new client at my home. I’m struggling a bit with it, but she seems nice.

What have you been up to lately?

Hihi it’s Milou

Posted on by Astrid

So I writed this some hours ago but didnt feel like posting it here cause bigs want to keep the blog big and serious and stuff but thats not what we meant this blog for when we first started it so I will just write.

Hihihi everyone its me Milou. I’m 8-years-old and I have lots of fun today. Today this staff person taked me to the playground and I went on a seesaw. Of course with the body being big now I not fitted in the seat but I sitted on a side thing that bigs can sit on and still use the seesaw.

Then I got me and Lisel whos 5 some fun books. We tried amazon first but that wouldnt work for some stupid reason so we got some stuff off Apple books. All the books were free so yay we can have as many as we wants. I got one called 100 jokes for kids and it had lots of funny jokes in it. I’m a little old for this kind of books but cause they’re in english they still are fun for me.

Here’s one joke I remember now.

Q: What happens when the cows refuse to get milked?

A: Udder chaos!

Milou age 8

#WeekendCoffeeShare (November 10, 2019)

Posted on by Astrid

As with Ten Things of Thankful, I haven’t joined in with #WeekendCoffeeShare in a long while. It’s late Sunday evening here, so my week-end is almost over. Then again, there’s still time to join in, so let me. I just had a drink of Crystal Clear, which is a type of non-carbonated soft drink. I hate carbonated soft drinks except for the very slightly carbonated drink called Dubbelfrisss. I haven’t had coffee since one o’clock in the afternoon, but if those who are in a different timezone (or even those in my timezone, cause who cares?) want a coffee, that’s fine by me.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that this past week has been filled with appointments. On Tuesday, I had a review at the care facility and on Thursday, I had the intake interview for mental health.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that the review went okay’ish. Honestly, I don’t remember that much about it, as the day activities staff seemed to be rattling off a list of changes they want to implement. That had me go “Whatever” only to melt down later in the afternoon when I saw what these changes were doing.

For one thing, the staff got shuffled around a bit so that my group has less staff available. That was a big change that caused me to go into panic.

Fortunately, the staff called for the behavior specialist to talk to me and they together were able to calm me down a bit. I still feel uncomfortable particularly with this specific staff. She’s leaving next week anyway, so oh well.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that my intake interview with the mental health team went pretty well. A staff from my living place went with me. This was comforting. At one point, a little came out, who reached for her hand. This felt good and the staff said that she was totally okay with it.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that tomorrow I have yet another appointment. I will be having an introductory appointment with the intellectual disability physician for my facility. I’m not sure what I expect out of it.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that I went home to my husband this week-end again. We had Chinese takeout this evening, which was good. Since my husband moved to Lobith six weeks ago, we haven’t had Chinese takeaway. It was much better, in my opinion, than the Chinese takeaway in Doesburg (near our old village). There, I’d pick it as a choice sometimes over other food vendors because you got loads of food, so it was essentially a huge binge I’d later pay for with bowel cramps.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that I had a nice walk with my mother-in-law and her dog Bloke this afternoon. We walked for nearly an hour, which was really good. After all, though I manage 30 minutes of activity most days, I’ve not had long walks in a while.

If we were having coffee, lastly I’d share that I’m now enjoying some of the liquorice my husband bought me at my request this afternoon. I’m being careful not to eat it all and trying to be mindful of my wish to actually enjoy the candy rather than stuff it all in at once.

What have you been up to lately?

Shark!

Posted on by Astrid

Stuffed Shark

So my husband came over today. I had originally planned on visiting him for the week-end, but then I’d have to go home to the care facility by ParaTransit taxi again. You get only 700 km at a reduced rate each year and the one-way drive from my husband to here is 72 km. This means that I can’t go each week for the rest of the year. So my husband proposed to come over for a visit.

We went to IKEA in the nearby city of Zwolle. I was looking for an office chair to use in my corner of our house. The way IKEA is constructed, you need to walk past a lot of other stuff before you can get to the desks and office chairs. This meant we could also check out the lounge chairs. I took my lounge chair (well it was originally my husband’s family’s but I used to sit in it all the time) to the care facility with me and would like a lounge chair at my husband’s house too. We couldn’t buy one right away, but we did see some good, some bad and some really rubbish ones.

At one point, we came across the soft toy aisle. My husband showed me a giant stuffed elephant and then an equally large stuffed shark. The littles were totally in awe! He asked us whether we wanted to buy the shark and we shouted “Yes!”. So we now have a stuffed shark. We took most of our stuffies to the care facility with us, so we’re very happy to have a soft toy at home with our husband too. We joked that of course we have our husband, but well, that’s different.

We also got some nice candy. Some of us were upset because we couldn’t have Swedish meatballs. Not that our husband said so – he didn’t explicitly say they were on offer, but he knew we knew about them -, but we had already had pancakes for lunch and figured it wasn’t healthy to have two meals. Everyone was content again when we got the candy.

We also ate out at a nice Indian restaurant. The food was delicious!

A Very Validating Experience

Posted on by Astrid

As I write this, I deal with a nasty cold that I’ve been feeling come on for a few days but wasn’t willing to accept was coming on. Not that there’s anything I can do about it. Whenever one of us has a cold, my husband always searches the Internet to find out whether they’ve found a cure yet. So far, no luck. I’m not terribly sick as of yet anyway. I think my husband suffers almost more from the weird noises my body makes when I can barely breathe than I do.

A lot has been on my mind lately. I could of course write a gratitude list and devote a sentence or two to each thing. I may do that eventually, but right now, I want to share about a specific experience in more detail.

Last week, we told our staff at day activities about ourselves. We disclosed that we may have dissociative identity disorder (calling it multiple personality) and explained that it’s a trauma-based survival mechanism. The staff member we told was totally fine with it. She actually validated us, saying she’d seen a little come out to her.

Then on Monday this week, we had a flashback while at day activities. A fellow client needs to be given oxygen at times. This reminded one of our littles of the time we needed oxygen as a four-year-old because our trachea had closed up. An adult alter was able to explain this to a staff before the little came out, but then we could no longer keep ourselves from switching and the little popped out.

This little started talking to our staff, the one we’d come out to the week before. She asked to sit on the staff’s lap. We had agreed when we first came out as multiple that this is okay with both the staff and us. It was such a nurturing experience.

Afterwards, an adult did feel the need to check with this staff that it’d been alright with her, but it had been no problem. That’s a good thing about doing day activities at a center for intellectually disabled people. I’m pretty sure that in psychiatric care, we’d not be allowed to express such a “childish” need for affection.