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.

Kymber’s Get to Know You (January 9, 2025)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I have been quite tired over the past few days, so didn’t do much writing. I’m still proud to say that this is my sixth blog post in January. Considering that some months in 2024, I only published five posts total, this is good.

Anyway, regular readers may remember me participating in the Wednesday Hodgepodge for a while. I stopped doing that, because I didn’t like it that the overwhelming majority of participants’ posts were heavily Christian-based. Now though, I seem to have found something to replace it with: Kymber’s Get to Know You. Here are the questions for this week and my answers.

1. What is the most memorable activity you did with your family as a child?
Not an activity we did as a whole family, but play-based learning with my parents comes to mind. For example, my father taught me to calculate squares using computer chips he’d been removing out of the devices himself. I also remember us looking at maps together. My mother also made little books in large print for me to learn to read when I was about four. Here in the Netherlands, children don’t usually learn to read until they’re six, but I was a precocious learner. My parents will probably be proud to see me list these “intellectual” activities.

2. What quality do you appreciate most in a friend?
Acceptance. I want to be myself with a friend and if they aren’t willing to accept that, fine but they aren’t my friend. I will also accept my friends for who they are. I don’t mean that mutual annoyances can’t happen. They happen between me and my spouse, who I consider to be my best friend, all the time. However, when it comes down to it, we accept each other for who we are.

3. What is one characteristic you received from your parents you want to keep and one you wish you could change?
My mother jokes that I inherited all my positive qualities from my father and all my negative ones from her. I was almost going along with it, because indeed the first positive characteristic I thought of comes from my Dad and the first negative one from my Mom. However, I’d like to boost my Mom’s self-esteem a bit (should she ever read this) and lessen my Dad’s. Therefore, I’d like to keep my Mom’s creativity and get rid of my Dad’s snobbishness.

Regrets

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Yesterday, Sadje asked in her Sunday Poser what regrets we have about not doing, being or having something in our life.

I could share that I regret not having finished college or not having lived independently longer, but I don’t. I mean, I know my “choice” to land in the psych ward caused me to be practically abandoned by my family of origin, but I wouldn’t have my spouse now if I hadn’t gotten myself admitted. In fact, I might not have been here to write about regrets, as I was actively suicidal at the time. You could argue that I wouldn’t have died anyway. Even if death weren’t the result of my continuing to muddle through, I would have more than likely caused irreversible damage to the relationships that matter. I honestly, after all, can’t believe my parents wouldn’t have abandoned me if I’d spiraled more seriously out of control. And I’m pretty sure, like I said, that my now spouse, whom I’d just met, wouldn’t have stuck by me then either.

This doesn’t mean there isn’t a voice in me that wishes I’d done some things differently. However, as long as I live, there’s always a moment to do things differently now. For instance, if I really wish I’d finished college, I could always enroll into an Open University program.

Likewise, I do sometimes wonder whether I could’ve been more independent if this or that about my life had been different. Then again, if I really want to be more independent, I can take steps, no matter how small, to achieve it. The proverbial deep end doesn’t work for me, since that was what I got when living independently and going to university. However, I can always take steps towards improving my life.

I, as many of you know, do regret having moved out of Raalte and into the intensive support home. That, now, I see as a lesson: I want to stay here at my current home, because even if it isn’t perfect, the grass isn’t greener anywhere else. Like one of my staff sometimes says, some places don’t even have grass.

I’m linking up with Senior Salon Pit Stop #338.

If You Aren’t Prepared For an Imperfect Child…

Posted on by Astrid

Yesterday someone on Reddit’s Childfree sub asked why many parents-to-be have this idea that they’ll get the perfect child. You might say that having dreams for your unborn child is normal, and it is. Having this clear-cut image of what your child will (that is, should) achieve in life, is not.

Of course, there are thankfully many parents who are able to adjust their image of their child if (or rather, when) said child does not conform to their initial expectations. My parents, unfortunately, are not among them.

Like I’ve probably shared on this blog before, when I was a baby and sustained a brain bleed due to premature birth, my parents were concerned for my quality of life. This is more or less normal, although it wasn’t back in the ’80s. In fact, the doctor flat out told my parents not to interfere, since they were keeping me alive period. I am forever grateful for this, despite the fact that the same doctor admitted in 2004 that he sometimes meets former preemies he’d been keeping alive that he now thinks of: “What have we done?!”

At that time, I thought he would not mean me. I was still passing for “just blind” and, though blindness is considered a major disability, it’s one that by itself does not prevent someone from living independently and going to university.

That was the exact same reason my father, when talking about euthanasia of severely disabled babies in 2006, didn’t mean me. He did, however, mean those with intellectual disability and those with severe mobility impairments (the case at hand involved a baby with severe spina bifida). And I’ll never forget that he added to his statement that he didn’t mean me, “because you’re training to live independently and go to university”. As you all know, that didn’t work out.

My parents did find a workaround to the problem of my not being the perfect child they’d envisioned: they decided that my landing in the mental health system and now in a care home for those with intellectual disability, is my choice rather than a necessity. I haven’t fully processed all the ways in which this attitude, which some of my care professionals took over, has impacted me. It hurts though.

Now back to the idea of a perfect child. Even when disability isn’t involved, a child is their own unique individual, with their own strengths, weaknesses, wants and needs. When a parent decides that their child should go to university at eighteen even though they are still in Kindergarten, like my parents did, that doesn’t just impact a disabled child. It impacts any child for whom for whatever reason university isn’t the best place to go at eighteen. Such as, for instance, any child with an average or even slightly above-average IQ. Or any child that is more capable of practical jobs than of academic ones. And any child who, God forbid, doesn’t want to go to university.

If you aren’t ready for a disabled child, a child who isn’t a top achiever, a child who might I say has their own personality, by all means don’t become a parent. You don’t know what your child will be like, after all. Having dreams is alright, but be ready to adjust your image of your child when the need arises. And for goodness’ sake, don’t guilt trip your child for being themselves.

I’m linking this post up with this week’s #WWWhimsy.