Category: Autism

“I Want to be Left Alone”

Like Greta Garbo, I’m quite content to be left alone. I’ve never been one to seek out attention, though sometimes I would be affectionate with Mom, and I will go to my husband for a hug occasionally, but I’m good being left to my own devices for the most part. Of course, “my own devices” include my phone and/or computer, and I would probably go crazy without some connection to the outside world or something to stimulate my brain.

I am a loner, but that wasn’t always an option growing up. I grew up in a very close family, and we would spend most weekends at my maternal grandparents’. At least 4 out of 5 of “the children” (my mom, aunts, and uncle) and their spouses would be there with their children (“the grandchildren,”) which included my brother, me, and our seven cousins.

I’m the second youngest, but when everyone was outside playing, I preferred to be inside with the adults. If the adults wanted to talk about grownup things or play card games I had no interest in, I would retreat to one of the bedrooms and read or write, or roller-skate in the basement. “She just likes being alone” was uttered often by Mom. Mom was asked a lot of questions regarding me. I wasn’t diagnosed AuDHD until after she passed, so was often described as being a loner and “backward.” Ah, the ’90s.

I need to learn how to shorten my backstories! All of the above brings me to today’s topic. My husband is outgoing and pretty clingy. Him taking care of Mom and staying in the hospital with her screwed up his lungs to the point of him not being able to work. He also has schizoaffective disorder. He’s here 24/7.

MIL came here in 2021 after having part of her foot removed and she is here 24/7 as well. She doesn’t have a vehicle. Mechanic broke Mom’s car, so we don’t have a car. We are all here, together, 24/7/365. I have no alone time.

Okay, now I’m done with the backstory. I’ve been cleaning out Mom’s walk-in closet, and I decided I want to make it a “me” space for…whatever. I’m working on Mom’s bathroom and making it a relaxing space for me, but that only lasts for however long I’m in the shower because, realistically, what else is there to do in the bathroom? I can’t stay in the shower or tub all the time because I’d get all pruny and run up the water bill, which has already gone up due to inflation and having 3 people in the home. I’ve actually been looking for a huge beanbag couch/chair to put in/over the garden tub so I could sit in there and read, but they are hard to find unless I spent $200 for one.

My first idea was to move my computer, desk, and TV/monitor into the closet and work in there, but my husband doesn’t think I would like that and would soon change my mind and move everything back out (which I probably would, in time), as I’m known to do that. Now, I’m thinking of doing a built-in bench seat with some pillows or cushions, and I would really love a beanbag chair since I’ve always wanted one and never got one. I haven’t decided if I’m going to try to add an outlet in the closet or just get another surge protector with multiple outlets and a longer cord to put in there. I kind of want to add an outlet to see if I can do it. Admittedly, that kind of thinking is how a lot of my big oopsies start out 😒.

Not to sound like a bad mom, but I’m looking forward to being able to shut the door when the cats are overwhelming me. You’d think small, cute animals wouldn’t get on my nerves, but just a few days ago, I was preparing to give Phin some shrimp, which he loves, and I had four cats on the dining room table walking around and smelling everything. It was extremely frustrating because only Phin and Piper will eat shrimp, yet four of five just had to know what I had and re-confirm that they didn’t like it. I was pretty cranky after that.

I used to have to hide in my room from my sweet, dearly departed tuxedo cat, Sprinkles Ricardo Blah-Blah, whenever Mom bought me beef jerky because he adored it and would eat it all up from me if I let him. That stuff’s expensive, and it is one of my favorite snacks. Sprinkles would come running whenever he heard the thick plastic bag rustle, even when Mom would sneak it to me!

No More Birthdays

I have anxiety. Bad. I get super anxious hearing other people talk on the phone. My husband makes all calls unless I absolutely have to talk to someone, like for my work. He even has permission to talk to our family doctor and psychiatrist for me. All of that to say, I don’t talk to family on the phone. I always got updated about family by Mom, who would talk to various family members throughout the week. Since I lived with her, I was kept in the loop. All that changed after she died. Family hung around for maybe the first year or two, but then radio silence on both our parts, save a FB group chat with some of my cousins and me.

Around the beginning of April in 2019, one of my aunts called me. She is Mom’s sister-in-law (aka “sister-in-love”), and Mom made her medical power of attorney before she died so my brother and I wouldn’t have to make hard decisions. She, of course, consulted us before making any decisions. I just love this aunt to pieces.

Anyway, my aunt called me and asked if my husband was home, and she wanted me to go to the same room as him. I did so, internally starting to panic. I begged her to please talk to him, I didn’t want to hear what she had to say. By this time, my husband was standing by me, obviously concerned. He caught me when my world fell apart once more.

My big brother (“Bub”), my childhood torturer and hero and only sibling, had a heart attack at work and was found unresponsive. He was taken to Johns Hopkins, where they did all they could, running tests and trying to normalize his temperature and checking for brain activity. He had just turned 39 the month prior.

Since Mom’s car was on the fritz and my husband didn’t think it would make it that far without issues, my cousin was going to take us over the weekend, but Bub didn’t last that long. He left behind an amazing wife and two beautiful, sweet daughters.

A couple of days before they turned the machines off, my sister-in-law called and put the phone to Bub’s ear so I could tell him goodbye. I mostly blubbered and told him I was sorry and that I loved him. He died 9 days before Mom’s death anniversary, 19 days before my birthday. I don’t celebrate my birthday anymore.

I rolled back the time and have been 29 years old for a few years. Everyone started dying after I turned 30. I lost my aunt and my dad the year I turned 30. Dad was a deadbeat, and that drama/trauma is a whole ‘nother story (complete with an Evil Stepmother). I lost Sprinkles, Mom, Ashes, and Soxers all in one year, and two uncles who were surrogate fathers. I’m just done.

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