Mother As the Giving Tree: Reflections on Conditional Acceptance

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Last Monday, I attended an online meeting for adults who spent time in the NICU as infants. It touched me on many levels. One thing that was mentioned was the fact that most NICU parents go through their own emotional process, which then is passed on somehow to their child in the NICU and beyond. For example, many parents back in my day and before didn’t know whether their baby would survive, so they didn’t attach to their babies as they normally would have.

I was also reminded of something I read in the book The Emotionally Absent Mother. In it, motherhood is compared to the giving tree in Shel Sinverstein’s writing. I don’t think I’ve ever read this piece, but its point is that the tree keeps on giving and giving and expects nothing in return.

I have been thinking about my parents’ attitude to me as a multiply-disabled person. When I suffered a brain bleed in the NICU, my father questioned my neonatologist about my quality of life and what they were doing to me. “We’re keeping her alive,” the doctor bluntly replied. My father has always been adamant to me that he wouldn’t have wanted me if I’d had an intellectual disability, because “you can’t talk with those”.

I have always felt the pressure of conditional acceptance. I’ve shared this before, but when I was in Kindergarten or first grade, it was already made clear to me that, at age eighteen, i’d leave the house and go to university. I tell myself every parent has expectations and dreams for their child. This may be so, but most parents don’t abandon their children when these children don’t meet their expectations and certainly not when it’s inability, not unwillingness, that drives these children not to fulfill their parents’ dreams. Then again, my parents say it’s indeed unwillingness on my part.

I still question myself on this. Am I really unable to live on my own and go to university? My wife says yes, I am unable. Sometimes though, I wish it were within my power to make my parents be on my side. Then again, the boy in Shel Silverstein’s writing didn’t have to do anything to make the tree support him either.

I’m linking up with #WWWhimsy. I was also inspired to write this post when I saw Esther’s writing prompt for this week, which is “giving”.

Reflections on Being a Thrown Away Golden Child

Posted on by Astrid

I’ve been struggling with memories lately, as well as with the role I played in my family. I was for the most part the golden child. For those not aware of what this means, this is the child in a family in which one or both parents are narcissists or otherwise emotionally immature, who ends up being the parents’ favorite.

My parents often half-jokingly (though it wasn’t funny) said that my younger sister was oh so nicely average. More like invisible, I’d say.

I, on the other hand, was exceptional in both positive and negative ways. I was a genius when doing calendar calculation, which for your information is a common savant skill in people with developmental disabilities. By contrast, I was threatened with being thrown away into institutional care and called all kinds of insults for people with mental illness when I was acting less than excellent. I at one point thought of printing out the table of contents for the DSM so that my parents at least knew the correct terms for what they were calling me.

Then, when I was admitted to the psychiatric hospital in 2007, my parents more or less actually threw me away. No, that’s not even entirely true: they threatened to abandon me when I announced that I was taking a second gap year in order to work on independence skills in 2006 and only came back into my life after the independence training home promised to prepare me for university and independent living. Which they couldn’t.

I struggle with both the fact that I was thrown away and the fact that I was my parents’ favorite before that. After all, it adds an extra layer of shame to my life: the layer of “if only…”. If only I hadn’t taken that second gap year… If only I hadn’t consented to being admitted to the psychiatric hospital… If only I hadn’t applied for long-term care… would I still be the hero… in my parents’ fantasy tale? In other words, isn’t it my choice to have fallen off my parents’ pedestal?

I don’t know how I feel about the idea that it might’ve somehow been my choice to be thrown away. On the one hand, I feel it makes me responsible for not having a “normal” relationship with my parents. On the other hand though, I know how many golden children turn out and that’s not pretty. Many end up repeating their parents’ toxic patterns with partners or children.

I’m forever grateful for being childfree for this reason (and others), as just today I had a memory of shoving my and my wife’s then cat Barry out of the bed. I feel forever guilty about this and the very thought of doing this to a child, makes me sick.

Remembering this and other things makes me realize I’m glad I didn’t stay in the golden child role. If I had, I might as well have ended up in prison… or should have.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (December 6, 2025)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Yesterday, I had tons of ideas on my mind on what to blog about but no motivation to actually write. Today, it’s the opposite. I’m joining in with #WeekendCoffeeShare even though I think I don’t have a lot to share today. I, as usual, had my last cup of coffee for the day about half an hour ago and am going to take a break from writing this post to have my soft drink and chips. Let’s have a drink and let’s catch up.

If we were having coffee, first I’d talk about the weather. For most of the week, it was chilly but not rainy with daytime temps around 7°C. Today, the daytime high was 10°C but it’s been raining all day.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that I was pretty active for most of the week, both by walking and one time by cycling to the next town just to have a purpose for cycling. I didn’t need any groceries and we only ended up having a snack, but at least we weren’t aimlessly cycling around.

Today though, I spent the entire day indoors and still need to dance or whatever to reach my movement goal on my Apple Watch. My streak for whatever reason is still stuck on 33 days even though I’m moving each day and it’s been stuck on 33 days for a month or so.

If we were having coffee, then I’d tell you that I had many plans over the past week but haven’t accomplished a lot. On Monday and Tuesday, I did create some Christmas decorations out of polymer clay. Yesterday, I attempted to bake cookies. They turned out okay but not great and the process was frustrating. Nonetheless, it was better than lying in bed or staring into space, which is what I’ve been doing a lot lately.

If we were having coffee, I’d cheat a little with the coffee share being about the past week, since there was none last week. I’d share about the meeting I had with the behavior specialist early last week. It went well. First of all, like I said, the “one chance” rule about orienting new staff got ditched. My assigned staff, who is in training to become my side of the home’s support coordinator now too, E-mailed me the new orienting plan yesterday and it looks pretty good.

We also discussed my day schedule. In the future, I’ll hopefully get more set activities. In preparation for this, my assigned staff created instruction cards for some of my activities, so that I can hopefully do more activities regardless of which staff is assigned to me. She E-mailed these to me too and I gave some feedback.

If we were having coffee, lastly I’d share that I’ve been having lots of memories lately. And by “memories” I don’t mean good ones. Yesterday, for example, I remembered the team meeting for my current home I attended in the summer of 2023. One of the staff, when I told them that I can’t prepare my own lunch, replied: “But you lived independently, right?”. I immediately got defensive, because yes, I technically lived independently, but I shouldn’t have. Yesterday when I was talking about this with my wife, whom I’d first met when living on my own in 2007, she told me more about how bad it actually was. Until a few years ago, I believed that, while I couldn’t cope, this was mostly a mental thing. In other words, I was falling apart mentally but could really care for myself if I hadn’t been so scared. Well, no.

It is sad to realize that part of the reason why I need so much care is lack of training in childhood, adolescence and to a lesser degree early adulthood. I’m still struggling with my parents’ reasoning that they couldn’t have taught me because I was too strong-willed and just didn’t want to learn. It may’ve been true that I didn’t understand why I had to learn something that caused me frustration, but then isn’t it the parents’ job to guide the child through their frustration? I’m honestly still struggling with this.

Flash Fiction: Pizza for Her Parents?

Posted on by Astrid

The last time ever that Amanda visited her parental home, she didn’t expect it to be the last time. She was merely coming home from college for a night. No-one knew that, when leaving the home the next morning to board the train to her college city, it’d be the last time she’d ever seen this home.

Fifteen years later, after a long journey through the province and the care system, Amanda moved back to the area. She sometimes wondered what had become of her parental home. Her parents had sold it many years ago and she’d herself handed in her key several years before that.

One day, she was talking to a virtual stranger, a temp worker coming to care for her in her new care home, probably just a handful of times. As Amanda told him about where she’d grown up and for a reason she didn’t even know herself mentioned her parental home address, the carer was amazed. “When I worked as a pizza delivery guy, I used to get orders for that house about once a week.” He started telling her stories about the time the residents had complained of a hair in their pizza, a blond hair, even though none of the workers at the pizza place were blond.

Even though Amanda knew that the house wouldn’t look the same at all if she went back, not least because most of the furniture had been either hand-crafted or hand-picked by her father and because the large birch tree in the front yard had been cut down before her parents sold the house, she delighted in hearing the staff’s anecdote. Her parents never ordered food delivery. The world can be a small place and yet a town can feel so big…

This piece was inspired by Fandango’s Story Starter #207. I couldn’t fit in the exact fragment. The piece is mostly autobiographical, including the tale about the temp worker who used to be a pizza delivery guy. I can’t remember whether his anecdote about the blond hair was actually about my parental home’s new residents.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (June 28, 2025)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’m joining #WeekendCoffeeShare again. No more coffee for me, as it’s nearly 9PM. I however do still have some slices of cake with nuts and caramel left over from when my sister and her family came over this afternoon. I also have a bag of mini brownies in my cupboard. I didn’t even know I liked brownies, but yesterday we got one with our coffee when my best friend, my parents and I were eating out. They were great! When my father told the waiter that it was my birthday, he offered me a bag of brownies as a treat. So let’s munch on some sweetness while we have a drink and let’s catch up.

If we were having coffee, first I’d talk about the weather. No complaining from my sister or my nieces about the heat today, yay! It was 26°C this afternoon, but apparently that’s doable for them. The rest of the week was a mixed bag. Early in the week, we had quite windy weather that made it feel chillier than it was. I even wore a jacket on Tuesday.

If we were having coffee, then I’d share that, thank goodness, I survived my birthday! I’m now 39. That’s not what I mean though: I made it through both meeting my parents and the visit from my sister and her family.

Yesterday, my best friend and I drove to Groningen to meet my parents. We walked some time around a library / study hall thingy which had as its only positive for us that you could oversee the city from the roof. Most of the way up, we were able to use escalators, but we had to walk up a flight of stairs to get to the roof. This was a bit scary for me.

After a few hours, we went to a restaurant, the one with the brownies. I was dead set on ordering something I wouldn’t normally eat, so chose the rib eye. When I ordered, the waiter told me it was served with mashed potatoes and, by this time, I was a bit overloaded so didn’t ask for an alternative. Thankfully, my best friend did and I got fries.

The food was good, but seeing my parents was, well, awkward. Thankfully, no arguments and my parents engaged more with me and my best friend than last year. I, however, didn’t want to give them a reason to start making triggering comments so I only replied “Fine” when my mother asked how I was during dinner.

My sister and her family visited me at the institution today. This was actually quite a positive experience. My nieces, who are five and three, were also a lot more engaging with me than last year and a lot less cranky. I allowed both of them to create something with my Fimo Kids clay. I told them I’m going to cure their creations in the oven and could be mailing them their way. Then, my brother-in-law said they’d be in Apeldoorn in a few weeks and could pop over here to pick up their creations then. I actually think I like that.

If we were having coffee, then I’d tell you I got a fitness mat for my birthday from my sister and her family. I really want to work on my strength, but boy is this hard. I tried planking and couldn’t even hold it for ten seconds. When I did a few squats too then checked my heart rate on my Apple Watch, it was 179. It quickly dropped when I was just standing, but this is a good reminder I will want the physical therapist’s advice on starting a strength training routine.

If we were having coffee, next I’d share that we had the institution summer festival on Tuesday and Wednesday. I didn’t participate much, but I did take part in a climbing activity. This was so scary!

If we were having coffee, lastly I’d tell you my assigned staff, behavior specialist, physician and some others had their meeting with the Center for Consultation and Expertise (CCE) on Wednesday. The CCE are going to ask for a consultant to come to my care home and observe me and the staff and on that basis they’re hoping to provide suggestions for better support. I was initially quite pessimistic, but am now cautiously optimistic that things might improve.

Bittersweet Birthday

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. As you may know, my birthday is next week. It is a bittersweet day in ways that it isn’t for most people. After all, yes, many adults, particularly those who are childfree, no longer celebrate their birthday because they have the money to buy themselves presents and a day to remind yourself that you’re getting older isn’t special to them anymore. It never was to me, as I hated growing up as a child due to all the expectations set on me.

Now though, I no longer mind getting older. In fact, when I turned 30, it felt exciting because I could finally join the over-30s groups on Facebook.

I do still have mixed feelings about my birthday though. I shared more about this last month. My birthday is rather bittersweet. However, bittersweet does include sweet.

For the most part, I like to turn the end of June into a celebration. It’s summer after all, which is my favorite season. This year, I am once again going to make a cheesecake for my fellow residents and treat them to a burger and salad. I am also still childishly excited about my presents. I know, I can buy myself whatever I want. That is, not really, of course, but I mean I have the financial security to buy my own presents. Still, it’s fun to know what others come up with as gifts for me. Yes, even the rather odd thrift store finds my parents usualy come up with. And by odd, I mean that they’re cheaper in the regular store than at the thrift store. I’m not a thrift store gal, but I appreciate those who are.

Sharing this post with Moonwashed Musings.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (June 14, 2025)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone on this hot Saturday evening. I’m joining #WeekendCoffeeShare. No more coffee for me, as it’s 7:30PM. I was just discussing possibly creating a mocktail someday, but not today, as I don’t have the right equipment. It’s the right weather though. Let’s have a drink and let’s catch up.

If we were having coffee, first I’d talk about the weather, as usual. Early in the week, the daytime temperature didn’t even reach 20°C, but yesterday and today were hot with a high of 30°C. It’s also pretty humid. We got some rain today and there are thunderstorms in the forecast. Tomorrow, the temperature’s supposed to be less hot: about 23°C.

If we were having coffee, next I’d tell you that I did still meet my movement goal on my Apple Watch each day this week. I went for bike rides on Monday, Thursday, Friday and today. On Thursday, we rode the side-by-side bike to a shopping center about 10km away. I wanted to buy fruit and look for a hat or cap to protect myself when in the sun. I have a giant straw hat, but don’t like how large it is. Then again, it’s supposed to protect my eyes too. I didn’t find a hat or cap I liked, but I did buy peaches. Yum!

If we were having coffee, next I’d tell you about my creative endeavors over the past week. On Tuesday, I made a new necklace and today, I made four pineapple charms out of polymer clay. These are to be used as decorations for the living room. They’re currently still curing in the oven.

If we were having coffee, I’d also moan once again about the institution’s policies regarding where packages are supposed to be delivered. And about PostNL. I ordered a number of jewelry-making supplies on Tuesday, which were sent out by the store on Wednesday. On Thursday, PostNL would’ve delivered them, but they were too busy (as they usually are). They tried to deliver my package today, but the place that usually picks up packages here on grounds is closed on weekends, so PostNL sent my package on to a pick-up point. And to make matters worse, the pick-up point isn’t even within biking distance. I hope that the package will arrive at the pick-up point Monday morning, and I hope that my Monday afternoon staff will be able and willing to drive me there too. It’s all very frustrating! PostNL used to have a pick-up point in the next town, but that apparently closed.

If we were having coffee, finally I’d talk about the stressors re my upcoming birthday. I initially wrote a post on this topic yesterday, but decided to delete it.

My birthday is on the 27th and I initially waited on my parents to take the initiative to schedule a visit and they apparently waited on me. Then on Tuesday, my bestie and I were discussing this and I realized that I would probably regret it if I didn’t meet my parents for my birthday this year. I mean, they’re in their 70s, so I won’t have many years with them left.

Then came the stress of figuring out what we’re going to do. My bestie proposed we drive to Groningen, which is the big city nearest to where my parents live. I asked my parents about this and my father immediately came up with an idea of showing us around some library museum thingy. We usually eat out for my birthday too, so I asked my parents to find a restaurant. They got the impression that I wanted a Thai restaurant like last year and the year before, so came up with one. Thing is, they’d never been there and the reviews were horrible. There was even a customer who said there’d been plastic in their food and, on top of that, the restaurant admitted it but wouldn’t give a discount.

Then I came up with another idea: to go to a chicken restaurant about 45 minutes from my parents. However, this restaurant is in a tiny town with nothing to do. I also asked my sister to recommend restaurants in Groningen. She initially reacted disappointed that I hadn’t invited my parents over here the day my sister and her family are coming, so I was like “Screw it!” and came up with the chicken restaurant. My sister eventually recommended some places, but these sounded more like diners than restaurants. Finally, my bestie decided to look up good restaurants and found something which sounds good to all of us.

I still feel quite a bit of stress about my birthday, as I don’t have a good relationship with either my parents or my sister. I will however get through it.

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

Posted on by Astrid

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.

Neurospicy Burnout

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. A few days ago, I listened to a podcast episode on autistic burnout. It’s the most recent episode of Beyond Chronic Burnout, a podcast for autistic women (and other marginalized genders, I hope) and their helping professionals. It discussed the Spicy Pepper burnout questionnaire, which apparently is a questionnaire to determine your level of burnout. I got overloaded trying to find the actual questionnaire amid all the ads etc. and it looks like the website it was published on, isn’t particularly screen reader friendly, so I wasn’t able to take the test. However, from the descriptions discussed on the podcast, I believe I’m in quite a significant burnout and have been for, well, years.

What is autistic burnout, you might ask? Autistic burnout is like regular burnout from being overworked, but it is really more like being overworked living life in a world not designed for autistics. As I have said for many, many years, just living in a neurotypical world is hard work for me.

I want to clarify that autistic burnout is often amplified by co-occuring conditions such as ADHD. In fact, writing this just reminds me of something I read several years ago that said that having fibromyalgia, which is often agravated by stress, is often correlated to ADHD. This is why I refer to neurospicy burnout.

The podcaster claimed that the first signs of burnout in autistics usually appear between the ages of four and six and many autistics experience their first actual burnout between the ages of six and ten. This was hugely validating. I, at age five, fell ill with what my parents claim was the flu, but it did lead them to get me into special ed quicker than originally intended. Age seven is always when my parents claim I changed from a cheerful, happy child to angry and depressed. This correlates with my having to start learning Braille, so according to my parents I then became aware of my declining vision. This is probably correct, but it doesn’t mean that my difficulty accepting my blindness was the only or main problem.

The first warning sign of autistic burnout, the podcaster says, is suicidal ideation. Oh my, can I relate! I honestly always thought that the first sign of burnout, whether neurospicy or work-related, was exhaustion. That with the fact that I react to overload with overactivity and irritability, always made me believe I’ve never had “real” burnout symptoms. Now I realize that I may not have fully collapsed (yet), but I do certainly experience burnout. And have for, well, my entire life since I was seven, I guess.

How My Personality Has Evolved Over the Years

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Today, in her Sunday Poser, Sadje asks us how we’ve changed, personality-wise, as we’ve grown up.

The first way in which I’m far different from what I was like as a teen, is my self-expression. I am much, much more open about myself and my inner world than I was when I was younger.

Oh wait, I need to nuance that statement slightly. There, after all, was a time in my late teens and early to mid twenties, during which I was more open about myself than I am now. On my first blog, which I started as a diary in 2002 and moved to WP in 2007, I probably showed a little (a lot) more of myself than would be considered normal. Also, no-one probably remembers that I had my current blog URL for a few months in 2011 too, but I do. I particularly remember with a sense of shame a post one of my alters wrote just after I got married saying my spouse probably doesn’t even love me. Well, now nearly fourteen years on I’m convinced that my spouse does love me, but even if I didn’t think so, a public blog wouldn’t be the place where I’d spill my guts.

I do believe that, even though I was extremely private as a teen, the willingness to share my thoughts was always there. I just didn’t trust my audience at the time, ie. my parents and teachers. Now trusting the whole world isn’t necessarily safer, which is why I’m no longer as candid as I was even seven years ago when I started this blog.

Another way in which I’ve changed, which might be related to the above, is that I’m generally more outspoken and assertive than I was as a teen. I still oscillate between passive and aggressive a lot in daily interactions, but where it comes to major life decisions, I’m not as dependent on the approval of others as I was.

Lastly, I’ve probably become less judgmental than I was in my teens. I’ve also become less arrogant. I mean, back then I looked down on people with intellectual disability or those who were less educated than I was in general. It did take me having to rely on the care system myself in order to change that.

As a result of being less judgmental towards others, I have also become less hard on myself. That doesn’t mean that the voice telling me I should be able to live fully independently, isn’t there anymore. I am however able to channel that voice into prioritizing my need for self-determination.