Bedtime

Personally, I love sleep. I think maybe there is something wrong with me because of how I can sleep just about all of the time. I could sleep all night (not that I do that every night, due to interruptions from the kids or my stupid IBS causing me issues) and then sleep most of the day. Happily. Sure, once I've finally sated my sleep lust (usually somewhere over the 12 hour marker--achieved via multiple sleep sessions) I feel like a wasteful loser that has accomplished nothing. Still, I love me some sleep.

My kids, on the other hand, do not have my affinity for slumber. I didn't as a kid either, but now as an adult I see the error of my ways. How can you not love sleep?!

However, with their autism-related sleep issues they've had extreme insomnia at times. Even with the aid of sleeping medications. We've tried ambien, melatonin, espom salt cream, benadryl (under a doctor's advice!), clonidine, klonipin, diazepam, vistaril, and some others I can't remember the names of. We are currently using clonidine and hydroxyzine (a prescription antihistamine). It seems to work most of the time, though it still can take 2-3 hours for them to fall asleep. This is much better than taking 6-8 hours or more to fall asleep (if at all). There have been several nights when they never fell asleep.

They just don't want to go to sleep. They actively fight it. Sometimes if they sense that a medicine is making them drowsy they will use all of their will power to fight it off. Even if that means hitting themselves or doing bed acrobatics.

I sorely wish that I could lend them some of my sleepiness. Especially right now. I have a feeling it's going to be a long, long night.

So Very Tired

Despite the fact that I've been sleeping a lot lately, I remain tired. I've opted for sleep over many things that I could have or should have been doing the past couple of weeks. Instead of going to the gym many mornings, I slept (though to give myself some credit, some of the time I was feeling horribly sick). Instead of running errands, cleaning the house, looking for work, or doing college assignments, I slept.

Now, you may be thinking, "Geez, you're a lazy ass," or "Why are you complaining about sleeping so much," or some other thought along those lines (or not, I can't predict everything one might think). Regardless, I'm talking about sleeping so much because I have no will to do anything else lately. I don't want to do anything. So I sit on the couch like a lump until I get sleepy and pass out. Then I'll sleep for hours. Even if I slept all night, I can just about sleep all day.

I have no will to move or do anything. I think about moving, but I don't do it. Even if I'm uncomfortable from being in the same position for so long, I don't move. I just think, "Ow. My back (arm, leg, etc.) really hurts. If I shift my weight or get up and move it'll stop." Then I sit or lie there until I fall back asleep.

I'm pretty broke, having just lost my main source of income and all. I'm depressed about life in general. For many of my problems I don't know what to do to fix them. So I simply exist, taking up space.

I can function, albeit it very slowly and by doing only the minimal amount of action. After wasting most of my day with sleep a sort of anxious panic sets in. I freak out that I've wasted time. Valuable time that I can never get back. Then I go into a sort of hyper state of running around doing as much as I can.

Then, at the end of the day, I vow not to do it again tomorrow. Guess how that story ends. If you guessed I do the same damn thing the next day, you're right.

Things That Might've Been...

I often get caught up in thinking what might have been. Generally these are sad or melancholy thoughts. I don't typically look back and think to myself, "Man, I nailed that! Wouldn't change a single thing I did in that situation." I don't really think others do this sort of reflection either. I suppose maybe if you did something really awesome you might, but still...

Having children with autism, I've become very acquainted with "what might have been". Essentially from the time I realized something was wrong and that I couldn't "fix" it, I've been re-imagining how life will be. And that often leads to what might have been. It also leads to what-ifs. What if I could just take my kids on a simple trip to the grocery store by myself without worrying that one of them will have a major meltdown? Or what if they wouldn't refuse to get out of the car, without me literally grabbing them by the feet and having to pull them out while they fight me all the way.

What if I didn't have to monitor them in the bathroom and clean up after them like they were much younger children? What if I didn't dread each night's bedtime not knowing if they'll go to sleep at 10 pm or 4 am? What if I didn't have to worry about them hurting themselves while doing the simplest of things like getting in the car, being around kitchen appliances, or being around common household cleaners?

What if we could do "normal" activities like dance lessons, sports, or having friends over? What if I could just hire and trust a regular babysitter without worrying about my daughters freaking that person out or being miserable because the person has no idea what they want? Or better yet, what if I could leave them home unattended for 30 minutes by themselves? (they turn 13 next month)

I get caught up on these things because living in the present with the stress, confusion, depression, and weariness is hard. So hard sometimes that I just think about what could've been or what might be.

What might be is even more painful than what if, especially as the girls get older. Will I be able to care for them as teenagers and adults? Will they be treated with kindness and respect at a living center if I find I can't take care of them? Will they be abused or neglected because the perpetrator knows the girls can't communicate what has happened to them? Will the girls think I've abandoned them if they no longer live with me?

 These are among the many things I think of on a daily basis. Then there is my life outside of my children. I don't have much of one, and every time I try to it seems to disintegrate rapidly. I am working out again, which not only provides stress relief, but also provides something positive to focus on. I'm trying to get my writing productivity up, but by the time I make enough money with freelance work I'm tired of working and feel unmotivated and uninspired to work on my fiction projects.

And there is heartache. I've become very cynical and hardened against romance over the past four years, as I've had lots of stressful failed relationships. Is it me, I wonder? How much of a factor do my children play a role in this? I'm not looking for a father figure for my children. I'm just looking for an adult that I can relate to and have an affectionate relationship with. Sometimes this seems like I must be asking for too much. Because I just can't seem to swing it. And getting over a broken heart sucks, no matter what. But when you have two high maintenance children to care for it really sucks because they don't understand that I'm sad or what that means. If they see me cry, no matter what the reason, they either ignore me or just stare at me confusedly. Or, as Celest likes to do, stare at me then start laughing like my tears are the funniest thing she's seen in ages.

This makes me feel like giving up on romantic relationships. I just don't feel like I have the energy. Is the reward worth the risk of the pain that comes when it falls apart? Right now I'm leaning towards no. But that's because I'm in the midst of a relationship problem. Give me a few months to heal somewhat and get really lonely and who knows? I might have willingly forgot how much it sucks.

Just another set of what if's and what might have been's for my collection at this point.

A Pooping Ugly

I found a doodle Celest had drawn on the back of an envelope I'd left on the counter the other day. On one side was a guy and his dog putting gasoline and oil in a can. On the other were a few guys just kind of standing around and one odd looking guy.

The odd guy was craning his head around to look at his butt (which was nude- no clothes on his big ol' bubble butt). It seems he was looking at his butt because he was pooping. I asked her what he was and what he was doing. She said matter of factly that he was an "ugly" and he was peeing and pooping.

It is by far the most graphic poop picture I've ever seen her draw. Usually the pooping person or animal isn't naked (to be fair, he was wearing clothes; he just had his uncovered butt facing the viewer).

I thought it was pretty funny but decided not to add it to the collection of pics I'm keeping. Maybe I should though. It's pretty hilarious to look at...

Scientific Link to Autism Identified

Scientific Link to Autism Identified

Depression and the Snowball Effect

It seems like every time I start to feel depressed all the little things pile up (and up, and up, and...you get the picture). I know that most likely I am just noticing things that wouldn't have phased me much if I weren't depressed, but that realization doesn't stop the snowball from getting bigger. It still picks up mass and ultimately, crushing power.
For now my big escape is snuggling with the girls (which can get me started down a perilous path of thoughts as well), reading books I've already read before--but that I don't remember the ending to, and playing Everquest II. Yes, I am a nerd. Hmm, even saying that sort of makes me feel more depressed and sorry for myself (this whole snowball analogy may have been better left unanalyzed).
Still, I already wrote it, so I will leave it. This is my "sort-of" journal online (the *juicy* stuff is reserved for my pen/paper version), so I won't go back and edit my random depressive thoughts. Just wanted to vent them. Sort of like Eeyore. "After all, one can't complain. I have my friends. Somebody spoke to me only yesterday. And it was last week or the week before that Rabbit bumped into me and said 'Bother!'. The Social Round. Always something going on."

Never mind that...

You need to be on a topic to digress onto a tangent. I really like the word. I actually have a children's story where a creature's name is Random Tangent. He put words into the protagonist's mouth that created trouble. I never got it into publishable shape, but it could be at a later date. Who knows?

Anyway, I have a blog about autism, which I try to keep somewhat on topic with posts about autism in general or about the craziness that my daughters, who both have autism, and I are up to. That's why I created this blog to cover all of the other random thoughts that I have. (hence the title!)

Which reminds me: I really dislike when people say that someone is autistic. Things are autistic, people have autism. I used to say it a bunch when my daughters were first diagnosed, but it really began to get on my nerves after a while. You may think I'm being too politically correct, but that's okay, I feel you are entitled to your opinion. I'm nice like that.

I am near-sighted, have Irritable Bowel Syndrome, take anti-depressants, and have the occasional migraine. However, no one introduces me by listing my medical conditions. No one says, "Hey, this is depressed Laura," or, "Here's my near-sighted friend, Laura."

Another pet peeve (where does that saying come from anyway?) is calling things "retarded". Again, back in the day, I was guilty of using this word incorrectly. I've since changed my ignorant ways.

Let's say your overweight. Would you like it, if when you were around me, I called everything I didn't like "fat"? Then when you protest, I'd say, "Oh, I didn't mean it in a bad way. You know, I just meant lazy, disgusting, worthless, vile, etc.".

Because that's exactly how I interpret it when people say something like, "That's so retarded!"; I then inform them that I don't like the way they incorrectly used the word and that I find it offensive. They generally proceed to cram their foot right past their lips and down into their esophagus by replying, "Oh, I didn't mean it like that. I meant stupid (or dumb or some other synonym with a negative connotation)."

Oh, well, that makes it okay! You think people that are mentally retarded are stupid and dumb. My apologies for wrongly taking offense! (yes, for those of you who are wondering, I am being facetious)

If you don't get it now, you probably never will unless someone close to you is affected with a learning disability.

A closing disclaimer: I love to use parenthetical expressions and ellipses. (even when they aren't grammatically correct...)