September 2023 Reflections #WBOYC

Hi everyone. September was a true rollercoaster of a month. Let me share. I am joining in with What’s Been On Your Calendar? (#WBOYC).

The month started with me being notified by my support coordinator for my now old home that I’d be moving to my current care home on the 18th of the month. The boxes arrived the next Friday and I started packing. I had a visit at my new care home on the 15th, which my mother-in-law also attended. The new staff seemed nice, but I did feel overloaded having coffee in the living room.

My move went about as chaotically as could be. For one thing, institution transport weren’t available that day, so my old support coordinator had to move most of my stuff, the rest to be moved the next day. For another, the staff here at my new home weren’t prepared with an extra staff member when I moved, so my old home’s staff had to help me get settled.

Handover also went rather frustratingly, so I was happy when my old home staff pulled away after a day. Only then began the trouble with my day schedule. I had been informed by my old home’s behavior specialist that the intention was to keep my day schedule mostly the same as at my old care home while I adjusted. This wasn’t to be. In the first week, at least three adjustments were made to my day schedule, all cutting my hours, and several more changes were not put on paper but were implemented in practice. The most frustrating changes took place in the early afternoon, including a 60-minute group activity time slot. I tried to make it work, but was often too easily overloaded, leading to extreme irritability throughout the day.

Thankfully, yesterday my assigned staff, after talking to the manager, informed me that I would be allowed a one-on-one activity time slot during the early afternoon for now anyway, during which I can do something creative. We’ll have to see how this all works out once my one-on-one has to be renewed in November.

Today, in an attempt to celebrate my time to spend doing crafty activities, I created my first polymer clay unicorn while at this home. I would’ve been able to finish it within said activity time slot had we not also been looking at recipes for baking and put my laundry in the washing machine. Thankfully, my one-on-one staff for this activity time slot was able to come back at a later time and finish the unicorn with me.

Overall, like I said, this month was a true rollercoaster with lots of ups and a few deep downs. Things are looking up now though.

Gratitude List (September 29, 2023) #TToT

Hi everyone. This week has been tough, but there’s light at the end of the tunnel. Let me share a gratitude list. As usual, I’m joining in with Ten Things of Thankful (#TToT).

1. I am grateful for warm and cozy pajamas. They’re probably a size too big and the sleeves and legs are too long, but they’re really snuggly.

2. I’m grateful for warm enough weather that I can still wear short-sleeved shirts during the day.

3. I am grateful for the care home’s side-by-side bike. Unlike my previous care home, the new one has its own side-by-side bike for all residents to use. At my previous care home, one fellow client had one and, though I could occasionally borrow it, that didn’t always feel right. Besides, she is significantly taller than me, so her bike was too large for me. So was the side-by-side bike we sometimes borrowed for my physical therapy. I am, for this reason, grateful my current care home’s side-by-side bike can be adjusted to fit my size.

4. I am grateful for speculoos (known as Biscoff in the United States if I’m correct). I have been enjoying this a lot lately. Which reminds me, I need to locate the recipe for Biscoff brownies I once saw on Reddit.

5. I am grateful for sleep. With the exception of last night, I slept quite well here at the new care home most nights.

6. I am grateful for a productive dietitian’s appt on Wednesday. I am sort of grateful for my weight. I say “sort of” because it’s within the healthy range but lower than my and my dietitian’s agreed-upon lower weight goal. Honestly, there are really just two voices competing in my head: one that says this weight is still healthy so scriew my goals and let’s lose more, and one that worries that something medical is going on because I am not restricting at all.

7. I am grateful my staff aren’t really pushing me to be in the living room more. I am also grateful that I can be there sometimes.

8. I am grateful my staff listen to my concerns about the cuts to my one-on-one support and are trying to make things work as best as they can.

9. I am grateful my old home’s behavior specialist also took my and my mother-in-law’s concerns seriously and is going to inform my current home’s behavior specialist.

10. Most of all, I am grateful for a new day schedule. This looks surprising in light of my previous two points, but hear me out. After both me and the staff raising our concerns, my one-on-one was for now raised back to the level it was at my previous care home. This does apparently mean the care home get less money than they spend on me. I for now dropped my wish to actually see the financial paperwork in detail and will stop moaning about how my previous care home cut my budget and blamed the home in Raalte, which after all is as much a theory as the home in Raalte having spent money they didn’t have. Anyway, with my one-on-one back to the old level, my new assigned staff designed an even slightly better day schedule for me than the one at my previous care home. I now will have a 75-minute activity time slot in the afternoon. This should be enough for a medium-level (for me) polymer clay project. Or for baking the aforementioned Biscoff brownies.

Day Four

Today is day four in my new care home. On day four in the home I moved to last year, I was forcefully “helped” (more like dragged) to my room, left alone for most of the shift and expected to almost completely independently walk around the home because “the more independent you become, the less bothered you’ll feel by us [= staff]”.

By contrast, today, I made my first simple polymer clay creation, a planet charm. I tried my hand at polymer clay at the old care home for the first time after two weeks, but it was discontinued because it took too much time. Then I couldn’t work with polymer clay again until my day schedule was created in December. In other words, I did something today I couldn’t do at my old care home until significant improvements were made.

Should I compare my current experience to the improved experience at my old care home? No, I don’t think so. After all, I’m still adjusting here, something I never did there. Chances are things will improve here too as I learn to adapt or my staff adapt to me or both. I hope so.

Because, to be honest, it’s better than my early days at the old care home, but I’m still struggling significantly. For one thing, my one-on-one, despite what the behavior specialist responsible for my old care home had said, did get cut. It started today and this meant I had to spend a significant amount of the day either in the living room or alone in my room. I am giving it a serious chance of working out, but it’s really hard. Hopefully, I will be able to acknowledge when I turn out to be capable of handling more than I expected and the staff will be able to accommodate me should I not be able to.

Opening Up About My Trauma

Last Monday, I was going for a walk with my one-on-one for the moment when we saw a few clients and staff she knew (she’s a temp worker). She wanted to “say a quick hi”. That turned into a fifteen-minute conversation between her and one of the other staff, which eventually turned to clients with severe challenging behavior being taken on outings off grounds and then, when they act out, staff being filmed by bystanders when restraining the client. This discussion triggered me, because it led to flashbacks of the times I’ve been “guided” (as staff call it) to my room. More like physically moved by several staff at a time, and the fact that I wasn’t officially restrained (because that probably only counts when you’re pinned down to the ground), is solely due to my lack of physical strength.

I asked the staff, admittedly more curtly than I should have, to not have these discussions in my presence in the future, as it was triggering me. She told me I was making it all about me and if I wanted to offer an opinion I should’ve made sure I listened to the whole thing because now I was twisting the truth. I told her about the time I was shoved to my room and staff threatened to lock me up in there. “You probably deserved it,” was her response.

This led to a whole chain reaction of triggers, in which I started to doubt the validity of my trauma-related symptoms. Didn’t I deserve the harsh punishments my parents gave me? I know at least back in my day an “educational spanking” was legal. In some U.S. states, child abuse isn’t even child abuse if it’s used as punishment.

I can’t go into the details of the punishments I endured as a child, and I’m pretty sure they’re not necessarily illegal. Does that mean they can’t have caused me PTSD?

That evening though, I was having intense flashbacks and decided to open up to my staff for that moment. She happened to be one of the staff who’d shoved me to my room on Friday and threatened to lock me in there. I had to admit – even though I don’t believe it – that I deserved to be physically moved to my room. I mean, the reason was my dropping the F-bomb while in the communal room (and then refusing to go to my room on my own when told to), which, well, truthfully staff do all the time.

After I’d given examples of the way my parents treated me, my staff seemed quite shocked. I honestly don’t understand this, as she restrains clients everyday and never even cares about the impact this has on them. I mean, I know, staff restraining clients is legal, but then again does something have to be illegal to be traumatic? And if so, where’s the boundary between an “educational spanking” and child abuse? Or does it have to be unwarranted? In that case, I must say, my parents acted out of a need to show who’s boss because they’d felt powerless over my behavior. I did, indeed, try to excuse my parents’ actions by explaining about my own behavior. The staff didn’t seem impressed.

I know, in my heart, that the truth is that restraints can and do traumatize clients too. I know I experienced trauma while in the psychiatric hospital because of being locked up in seclusion against my will. I know I still experience emotional trauma. And, of course, I’m more sensitive to this due to the trauma I endured as a child. But it isn’t black-or-white. And this is confusing.

Colors, Changes and Connections

Today, I am joining Denyse’s #WWandPics link-up. Denyse apparently has been sharing posts following an alphabetical theme. Today, she talks about the letter C. I could do this alphabet thing too, but then I’d have to start at A. Instead, I’m taking inspiration from her “C” words to write my post.

Denyse’s first “C” word is “change”. Of course, things are changing in my world too, though I’m not yet sure when. I got informed last Saturday that my new care home will keep my current day schedule for now. That’s in spite of the fact that it apparently indeed does cover two hours more care a day than I get funding for. I still don’t fully understand the technicalities, but I don’t really care, as the number of support hours I get according to my day schedule was never the problem. It was how cut up into at most 60-minute activity blocks it is. It’s okay though. Better than the alternative my staff have been suggesting, saying I need to find a way to cut back on those two hours and go down to 30-minute activity blocks.

I asked my support coordinator about having a care plan review. We haven’t had one in nearly two years due to my moving to my current home right when my last review was due. My support coordinator is going to get the new one to schedule a review once I’m settled there and he will attend too.

He also finally sent my mother-in-law an activation code to access the daily reports on me and my care plan. As far as my mother-in-law is concerned, they mostly report really superficially. For those who are wondering, back several years ago it was agreed upon that I wouldn’t get access because it might cause distress, but I did want someone in my family to have access especially now that I’m struggling significantly. Most daily reports apparently go something along the lines of “mostly had a good day, slightly stressed over ___”. I don’t know whether it’s deliberate, but that’s certainly downplaying my distress.

The support coordinator for the new home did ask my current support coordinator to confirm what color paint I want on my wall, despite the fact that I’m pretty sure I already told him through my mother-in-law. It will be pink, since lilac wasn’t available. Truthfully, all other colors except maybe blue sounded awfully ugly to me. And yes, despite being blind, I do have some concept of color from when I could still see a little.

Through all this change, I am happy about my online connections. I have multiple disabilities, so am in Facebook groups for various conditions. I am also in a few Facebook groups for former preemies or NICU babies in general. The Dutch one is organizing a get-together in September. I sent the organizer an E-mail to sign up, then decided to ask some further questions in the Facebook group. As far as I’m aware, the get-together will be held in a café-style meeting room, so I’ll most likely be able to get the ParaTransit taxi driver to get me right to where I need to be. On the one hand, I’m reminding myself that I used to attend the DID charity meetups independently each month from 2011 till 2013 and even rode the train there by myself. On the other hand, it’s 2023, not 2013 and I’ve probably declined cognitively at least a little. Then again, if I don’t try, I’ll never know if I can do this. I would really love to connect to other NICU survivors, as honestly I’m beginning to realize I might not be alone in experiencing significant attachment issues and they might in fact have started this early on.

Can’t Wait to Leave

Today’s prompt for Five Minute Friday is “leave”. I am pretty sure this or a similar prompt came up before when I was in the process of finding what turned out to be my current care home. Maybe not on Five Minute Friday but on Stream of Consciousness Saturday or the like. Well, now that it came up on FMF, even though I’m not an actual Christian like most of the participants, I thought I’d join in. So, here goes.

I can’t wait to leave this nightmare of a care home. Today, a fellow client was being severely out of control right in front of my room and my would-be one-on-one had to leave me to attend to him because her colleague was alone attending to “the group” (ie. everyone except another one-on-one client). I felt it was unfair, because that other client’s one-on-one is non-negotiable, while my staff keep claiming I need to cut back on my hours. Well, I could not do any activity at all with how long it took the staff to attend to this other client and then bluntly tell me, once melting down, to calm down, etc.

I can’t wait to leave this nightmare of unclear and mostly very harsh treatment that I receive here. I mean, I’m not aggressive, but I get treated like I am.

I am hoping to find out when I’ll be moving to my new care home real soon.

I sometimes feel left alone on this journey. I try to turn to God, even though I no longer subscribe to traditional Christian beliefs. I really do hope that, even if (which I’m pretty sure is a “when”) I’m left all alone in this world, there’s someone out there who cares.

Hello Monday (August 7, 2023)

Hi everyone on this first Monday of August. How are you all? Let me share about my weekend. I’m also sneaking in a bit about today, because I don’t think I can devote a separate blog post to the topic and it needs talking about anyway. I am joining in with Hello Monday.

Saturday started out pretty good. My assigned staff came to do my one-on-one for the morning. My schedule did get somewhat distorted because she came up with the idea of us clearing out my wardrobe. I didn’t mind at first, but I didn’t realize until it was too late how overloading this was.

Then eventually, after having had a shower, getting dressed and having had breakfast, I realized I’d forgotten the steroid cream I’d been prescribed for my eczema. I asked my assigned staff to help me apply it. “I’ll show you how, then you can do it yourself,” she said. Fair enough, you might say, but by this time I was well and truly overloaded. I sighed, to which my assigned staff made a comment about me being a “big girl” and that I could stomp my feet all I wanted (I didn’t). Once she got down to showing me how to apply the cream, she kind of curtly told me to relax my hand (which, well, having mild cerebral palsy, I simply can’t), then asked why I can’t. I got quite thick layers of cream on some parts of my skin and nothing on others, but in the end it didn’t matter, as the cream she’d grabbed was the oily lanette cream rather than the steroid. I do understand my staff meant well, in the sense that she’s trying to encourage independence. However, I often don’t realize how overwhelmed I am until it’s too late and at that point, any further demands will lead to me shutting or melting down.

Saturday evening was pretty good. We had home-cooked macaroni for dinner, which I loved! I actually was allowed a second helping.

On Sunday morning, my one-on-one arrived 25 minutes late, claiming it was only 15 minutes and that it just was what it was and deal with it. Then at lunchtime, she wouldn’t leave my room after I’d finished my drink (I wasn’t eating because I’d be having lunch out with my spouse), claiming she was making up for the time she’d been late in the morning. Well, it isn’t just sitting in my room that helps me. If she could’ve taken that time to help me with an activity that needed doing rather than just “chilling”, that would’ve been appreciated, but she couldn’t.

Thankfully, my spouse arrived around 1PM. We drove to Apeldoorn once again and, after a stroll around the city, decided to have lunch at Backwerk once again. I had the same old chicken barbecue baguette. Hema was closed, so we just had a drive around, then stopped by Aldi in the town next to where my institution is (I’m pretty sure those who live in the Netherlands know which town I’m referring to, if I haven’t shared it already). I wanted to get some nuts and Tuc (a kind of salty biscuit), which my dietitian allows me to snack on later in the evening. My spouse also got apricots, so I also bought those. And of course the perpetual Kinder Bueno. Then my spouse drove me back to the institution.

Once there, it turned out one of the staff had car trouble, so didn’t arrive till 4:30PM. Of course, it was my one-on-one that got cut. One of the other staff made it sound as though they were buying us French fries and a snack to make up for it, which I considered rather lame. Then after we’d finished our fries at 4:50, the staff informed me bluntly that my day schedule would be followed from there on, so I would have one-on-one again at 6PM. I felt this was ridiculous, but had no choice, as the staff were using stupid emotional reasoning to get me to agree with them.

In the evening, I did show my one-on-one how to make beads out of polymer clay.

Now on to my cheating by sharing a bit about today: this morning, my support coordinator informed me that he was going to attend the team meeting for my new care home to answer some questions about me, but that he thought I could answer those questions perfectly well myself. I agreed and went with him. Some of the questions made me feel a little uncomfortable.

The first question I got, in fact, referred to my drinking excessive water. That happened exactly once and was an impulsive act. I decided to broaden the topic and explain about my preference for how staff deal with my impulsive or self-harm tendencies, ie. by not giving more attention than needed to the behavior but to stay supportive of my emotional needs. I did forget to mention that wounds do need to be checked, something that doesn’t always happen here.

Overall, I mostly felt validated, in the sense that at least the team didn’t respond negatively to my comments. I did find it hard to walk the fine line between being too bluntly honest about my needs and delivering a sales pitch of myself. I hope I did okay though.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (July 29, 2023)

Hi everyone. It’s been a while since I last joined in with #WeekendCoffeeShare, so I thought I’d write a post for it. I just had my evening coffee, as is usual when I sit down to write these posts. I may still grab a cup of green tea later though, since, like I mentioned yesterday, I started using the Water Reminder app again. If you’d like a drink, cold or hot, join me and let’s chat.

If we were having coffee, I’d first share about the weather. It hasn’t been summerlike, honestly. Rather rainy and the daytime temperatures barely got above 20°C. It isn’t supposed to get any better soon.

If we were having coffee, then I’d repeat myself by shouting off the rooftops for all of the Coffee Share crowd to hear that YAY, I AM MOVING!!! Of course, as those who read my post from Monday will know, I hardly know any details about my new care home and a moving date hasn’t been set. However, the bits of information I do gather, make me feel like this could be quite positive. I mean, it’s not likely my dream home or anything, but then again that was supposed to be this one, only that dream turned into a nightmare.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that I’ve been spending more time among my fellow residents lately. It’s not really my choice, truthfully. In part, it’s because I look for familiar faces in the communal room when I get assigned the umpteenth new temp worker. Then when I do get a familiar staff, they often ask me to join the group too. This morning, my one-on-one for the moment sincerely claimed another resident had asked me to come play a game of dice, but I’m not 100% sure it’s true with all the times the staff are initiating it. For those who don’t know, me being in the communal room, unless I’m indeed playing a game with the aforementioned fellow resident, usually means me sitting around doing nothing while the staff chat among themselves or scroll on their phones, thereby my not doing any meaningful activity. Besides, I usually get overwhelmed very easily, but the staff expect me to be able to tell them rather than them picking up on my signs. Today, I was extremely overloaded for over an hour after spending not even twenty minutes in the living room. With the fact that I’m moving, I’m not sure whether the staff want me to practice functioning in the group more so that they can lessen my one-on-one, as that wouldn’t benefit them at all. However, I don’t see any other reason for them to initiate me being in the group so often.

If we were having coffee, then I would tell you I closed all my rings on my Apple Watch every single day this week so far. That’s quite an accomplishment lately, as in late June, I broke my 300-odd day streak of meeting my movement goal and I once again didn’t meet it last week. I honestly have been rather unmotivated in the exercise department recently. This week though, I logged more workouts – mostly walking – than last week.

If we were having coffee, lastly I’d share that I’ve generally been really uninspired over the past couple of weeks. I did make some simple smoothies with my new blender earlier this week, but other than that, I hardly did anything creative. I can only hope I can change this sooner rather than later.

Hello Monday (July 24, 2023)

Hi everyone. I’m joining Hello Monday for a weekend recap. The weekend was a true mixed bag, but those who know how much I’ve been struggling please do read on till the end for some exciting news.

Saturday was a truly crappy day. I got a total stranger as my one-on-one for the morning. This is not unusual, but the crappiness started as soon as I voiced my discomfort with her being a total stranger. Rather than try to comfort me, she was like: “What about if I leave you alone till coffee time?” Coffee time is at 11AM and it was just past 10AM. I said no, because despite what the staff here seem to think my one-on-one isn’t a mere suggestion. Fifteen minutes later, she was like: “I haven’t had breakfast yet. I need to grab some food, see you at coffee time, okay?” I went to the communal room, where my assigned staff happened to be, who set this straight with my would-be one-on-one. After that, we played some card games, had coffee and then she quickly decided to swap places with another staff. He’s not a stranger. Not someone I get along with, but at least I know what to expect of him (which is very little, to be honest).

In the evening, there was a staff shortage until 6PM and of course I was asked to come to the communal room to unburden the staff (his literal words). Then I got a staff I barely knew once again and only could play card games once again.

Sunday was better. I did get an unfamiliar one-on-one in the morning, but at least my spouse came by for a visit. We once again drove to Apeldoorn for lunch at Backwerk and hopped into Holland and Barrett for some essential oils. My spouse got a discount card even though we rarely shop there.

In the evening, my new support coordinator – did I share my old one left the agency a few weeks ago? – was my one-on-one for an hour. We went for a walk and discussed some aspects of my care, both unaware of the E-mail landing in my inbox at 7PM. My mother-in-law had forwarded it to me. It was originally sent to her at 11AM that morning. The subject line read something like: Painting Astrid’s new room.

The E-mail started with something like: “I am [name], support coordinator for Astrid’s new care home, [home].” The person writing the E-mail then went on to tell my mother-in-law that, when moving, a client can have one wall in their room painted in a desired color, and which color would I like?

I had heard my assigned staff mention this home among the possible homes considered for me, but I had absolutely no idea I had been accepted into it. I don’t know anything about the home other than what the care agency’s website says, which isn’t to be trusted due to the fact that they make things look better than they are. However, it isn’t really like I care. Any small improvement over the care I receive here is greatly appreciated.

Today, I confirmed with my support coordinator that I am indeed moving to this home. When the move will be, is not yet known for sure, but I’ll find out about two weeks in advance and be able to take a look around a few days before the actual move.

And for those who are wondering, I chose lilac as the color for my wall.

How My Attachment Style Affects My Decision-Making

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.