Tag Archives: Asperger’s syndrome

You’re Okay

Home alone again.

It’s the hardest thing for me to be.

This subconscious fear.

This anxiety.

I fight hard to distract and be okay.

I know I’m okay.

I know I’m safe here.

I know when they’ll be home.

I know that they’ll be home.

I’m home alone again.

Nothing to worry about.

I want to cry.

I’m not sure why.

I can over come this too.

A new season I’m in.

A new season we are all in.

My new season is a trigger of a past season.

Remember Kelly you know what’s real.

They went to work.

They will be home.

They can’t wait to come home to you.

You know what time everyone will be home.

You are loved.

You are wanted.

They left home.

They didn’t leave you.

Most of all though.

Remember;

You’re okay.

Initial panic…

I am not sure how someone like me with P.o.T.S. is supposed to do things in life right now. One things we cannot do is stand, but almost everywhere we go right now seems like there is a line just to get in the door.

I totally get and understand why, and honestly appreciate how well our society is approaching the Coronavirus, even if our federal government is failing us. It just sucks. I hate need long special attention and I fear asking for accommodations to make my life a little easier.

I get annoyed when my love is always asking anymore, “Do you have a gluten free option?” To constantly need accommodating wherever I go is a little bit frustrating.

I seriously don’t need to bring attention to the fact that I have these issues every single time I’m anywhere new. I hate being the center of attention or that “picky” person.

My love though he is my hero like always and asks and now I’m starting to be okay with asking. I initially panicked when I pulled up to the BMV and saw the line to get in. I was like, “Oh no! What am I going to do? I can’t like go in that door without cutting in front of all these people, and I don’t want them to think I just skipped ahead of them. Oh man!”

You know I got out of Pria (my Prius) and walked to the front of the line and asked “Do we have to get a number?”, the other customers informed me of how it worked. I was replied, “oh I’m well if I stand in this line I may pass out because of a heart condition.”

Quite opposite of what I expected people were like “go inside this door and they’ll let you sit inside we don’t want you passing out.” People were actually understanding, not rude, and helped me get inside to a seat so I wouldn’t get sick unnecessarily.

It’s so hard for me to speak up for what I need. It’s extremely hard for me to get my needs met. When I was growing up I struggled with not only living in an environment that wasn’t very nurturing to the needs of my brother and I, but I now know Asperger’s Syndrome Autism and ADHD. Those conditions already make it hard to not only express needs, but to get them met.

If you don’t know how to ask for what you need, you won’t. If you do figure out how to speak up for what you need and you’re met with nothing but ridicule, and remarks of “get a job” or “want in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up faster”, you learn that what you initially thought to be true is true…”silence is best and you need nothing”.

Once you’ve been met with so much negativity around your needs you automatically assume that what you need is insignificant and that you don’t deserve anything.

I know that’s how it is for me. I’m so shocked that I got up the courage to ask, and quickly. Now I am sitting down waiting for my number to be called and I’m not having my heart race feeling like my blood is in my feet and I’m going to pass out.

Even though my heart was pounding like crazy getting out of my car knowing that I needed to ask that hard question, “What should I do?”, but I did it. I told security, she got me a seat, the lady got me a number and did my VIN check while I wait. She explained that I didn’t line jump that I was actually the next one to need a number. I was happy by this. I would have felt terrible if I got in before someone who had waited longer than me.

Love thank you once again for giving me the courage and confidence to do things like this for myself. You are a true leader. It’s because of your “annoying” example that I am getting secure in the fact that, “the whole world won’t end” if I ask for what I need.

Inside the BMV

One way…

One way I have healed, continue to heal, and obviously dealt with my life as it was happening is by giving to those in need.

Over the last two years I have single handily organize the collection and distribution of over 2,000 items to the homeless and those in need (well those brave enough to ask).

What started off as gift baskets for new moms…Grandma finally spoke up about the real need without shame. I am paying for help like this out of my personal finances. This is why we’ve started fundraising.

I have come to find out the reason why I felt God has called me to this since a young age. I feel it’s because the missions we have now, especially those acting in the name of God, are so discriminatory and that is opposite to God’s love.

A small portion was kept for blessing bags, everything else was delivered to two “tent cities” in Chicago on 6/18/2020, thank you to Living Grace Church of Merrillville Indiana and MeMe’s Place of Crown Point Indian, and all the individual donors as well. We will have that vehicle and trailer soon. I’ve run out of floor space 😁 great problem to have!!!

I believe God knows I will love anyone and everyone no matter who they are, where they have been, or where they are going just like He loves them, even if they don’t love Him. Because God’s love is free and universal. You don’t have to earn it you already have it and everyone is deserving of being loved the way God loves them, without borders or conditions.

We need more blessing bag items. Think lunch box foods, hand sanitizers, bags, toilet paper, and more. Thanksgiving 2019

If you’d like to see pictures of what we’ve been doing so far please check the gallery on the Freely Love page of this website. If you’d like to support our efforts please head to our fundraiser group please do so, Freely Love Outreach Fundraiaing Group, we are currently raffling off $10 Dunkin’ Donuts gift card. $1 an entry, 5 for $4.

$1 a ticket, 5/$4

Since I have been working so diligently over the last week to raise money for our first vehicle so I can go mobile, I have felt a tremendous amount of freedom and have even found some strength to tell the two most toxic people in my life to just go away and leave me alone, and feel good about it.

I’m done talking

Everytime I find something new about myself I feel more like everyone should just stay away from me. Like I shouldn’t speak because I am the most toxic person in their life in my opinion.

When I speak it gets me in trouble. I speak only the truth. Never intentionally hurting someone else’s feelings. But I always seem to trigger bad response. Then I can feel their energy and it makes me worse.

The more and more I find out I figure I should just not speak. And I feel like that is the solution.

But then just like that as if to say, “Nope I gave you that big mouth for a reason,” God oops someone in my life that says, “hey I like what you say”.

Thanks God! I’ll keep speaking the truth. But God could you teach me to be gentle again when doing so? C’mon homeboy? You can do that right?

You Didn’ Know

No one but her knew.

She should have known.

Why would you know?

You didn’t know.

The shame.

The guilt.

The pain.

The one who knew didn’t seem to care?

Would you have cared?

What would you have done?

Would you have saved me?

I was told, “What happens in these four walls, stays in these four walls”.

An abusers silencing line.

“Please?”

“I love you.”

“Be a good girl.”

“Rub my back.”

“Pop this.”

A “nap” he called it.

“We all have to live here.”

“Stop causing trouble.”

“Drama queen!”

“Stop your crying.”

“Man up!”

“You fat bitch!”

“…lose 10 ugly pounds…”

“…just cut your head off.”

“Lazy!”

“Crazy!”

“Dumb blonde.”

“Bipolar!”

Mock me.

Laugh at me.

Groom me.

Trust you.

Use me.

Abuse!

Screams.

Tears.

No one hears a thing.

Hunger.

Fear.

Exhaustion!

Lonely.

Forgotten.

Abandoned.

You didn’t know.

24 hours…

No filters, just 24 hrs alone with the love of my life, our Tesla, and nature.

Feeling refreshed…almost.

Chaos

Chaos stole my memories.

Some May Say…

I’ve heard it so many times from so many people. They think that I can’t hear them or read the words they write:

“It’s all for attention.”

“Stop with the pity party.”

“Move on.”

“Just get over it.”

“The past is in the past.”

On-and-on they go. They think they are helping. On the contrary though, those phrases make it worse. The feeling of being unheard and invalidated is not a feeling I long to have.

You see, what you and they don’t understand is, when I speak it isn’t only for me, it’s for everyone else who has been hurt like me. The worse thing about being the victim of hidden abuses is no one ever wants to believe it happened. Why? Mainly because the people who know you also knew your abusers as “good people”.

The stories victims of hidden abuses tell are not for attention. Most of us will never ever speak, and never free ourselves from the crushing vices that are placed around our lives. We through no choice of our own were children of the “good people” that were so good at fooling everyone.

Writing it out is my therapy now. It is the things I was supposed to work towards in my recovery; being okay with speaking up not fearing what others might think of me. To not be ashamed of what made me, but to embrace it, own it, and to do something with it.

I have always firmly believed that God allows us to have the journey we’ve had to help someone else.

After the life I have lived if I didn’t believe that my suffering was for the better good I wouldn’t be sitting here today telling you my stories. I wouldn’t be sharing my struggles, my victory, my creative healing ways.

These stories are not easy for me to tell. They make me angry and sad. They bring out things in me I didn’t even know I was capable of doing or feeling. I used to feel embarrassment and shame from speaking up about my life, but I’ve grown. I now know and understand that the shame is not mine it is theirs.

So if one day you’re reading this and you read grammatically incorrect (more than it already is) and you feel it’s just incoherent rambling, remember this I’m probably in the middle of a PTSD attack, and have doctors orders to “Yell” at my computer and if it makes me feel better to know that someone is listening hit publish, if not just leave it as a note on my desktop. Either way I can’t yell at my family anymore.

I’m pretty certain if you’re reading this blog it’s because in some way you feel you can relate. That chances are you were searching PTSD or CPTSD (complex PTSD) and found me. Maybe you found me on Instagram. Wherever and however you found me, I believe you are here for a reason. I don’t believe in coincidences.

Welcome to my journey. My online “journal” you might say. It’s real here. I’m me always. I want everyone to know that you are not alone. I thought I was and that this was a waste of my time, but I know it’s not.

When you hear my panic. When you find yourself not understanding what the big deal is. When you can’t understand the way I respond remember this; every action and reaction I have when even the slightest bit upset is because of someone else’s actions in my past…

Thank you to @mylightshinesbright for this comment on my IG today. You have made my day and you encourage me to keep going and to speak more.

Our traumas might not be exactly the same, but trauma is trauma nonetheless.

Stay strong trauma warriors! We can do this! We are not alone! I am here for you!