Category: Autism

We Need to Talk About Luke

I briefly mentioned writing about Luke in one of my recent posts and then forgot all about it. Adam and I are on a wonderful new journey known as perimenopause, and why didn’t anyone tell me about this?! I call it Luke, aka Luke “Peri,” but it’s definitely not cute or sexy. So, this crap can start way before menopause (I’m not close to menopause) and last up to 15 years, from what I’ve read. And it hits like a ton of freakin’ bricks. I was fine and dandy one day with my minor aches and pains, and the next day, I can’t put my arms above my head, can’t turn my wrist, and I’m shooting eye lasers at anyone who looks at me, husband or child. WTH?

I know why Mom didn’t tell me about this and it’s not her fault. She had endometrial cancer and had to have a hysterectomy before Luke. My sister-in-law and aunt both had hysterectomies young, so I was completely in the dark. Thanks to Google, I discovered that so many women are uninformed as well, and that’s not cool. No one tells you Luke can start in your 30s even if you don’t reach menopause until your 50s! I made a FB status about it and several of my high school classmates are going through the same thing.

I’m showing my ignorance, but I thought menopause was your period stops, you get hot when others are cold or comfortable, maybe get a little moody here and there, and that’s it. That is not the case. I am in so much flippin’ pain from increased inflammation (I have rheumatoid arthritis like my dear ol’ mom), I experience PMS for, like, two weeks; I’ve gained 40 pounds without a proportionate change in my diet; and my legs and feet are so swollen it’s not funny. Why would we need to lose the ability to reproduce when all this happens? Who wants to have sex with someone going through all that? Why do women have to go through all this crap and men merely experience occasional wonky willies and leave their wives for convertibles and 25-year-olds? Something’s not adding up here. As an AuDHD extremely resistant to change, it’s not been great. Unfortunately, I can’t do hormone therapy because of my family’s heavy cancer history.

Per usual, Adam has been a gem about women’s issues. He’s always been sympathetic and attentive during my “time of the month,” and now he listens to me gripe and cry and complain about all the changes I’m experiencing and how it has blindsided me. He offers massages and cuddles and doesn’t get mad when I’m swinging through the moods. Given his severely abusive childhood and trash family, I honestly don’t know how he came to be so sweet and patient and have such a huge heart. I try to show him he doesn’t need to treat me like I’m going to break, then I proceed to break over an incorrect order or missing items or crappy food. The unmet expectations thing is a huge trigger for a meltdown. And noise! The sound of the boys drinking makes me murderous. Mom told everyone who would listen he was a Godsend for her and he has been the same for me. And he’s really cute to boot, so there’s that 😊😊.

First Day of School!

School is back in session! We had a week off, which is awesome because I am suffering from school burnout pretty badly. This term, I have a “new media” class and an advanced creative writing workshop. The new media is about writing using different media, mainly digital (online), from what I can tell. It’s a requirement for my English/creative writing major. The advanced creative writing workshop is the last workshop before graduating, and from what I can tell with it, I have to write in a different genre than my major concentration. My concentration is poetry, so I have to write something that’s not that.

I think I’m going with non-fiction because I’m eyeing writing a memoir. I have a second poetry collection and two fiction novels started, so I’m going to have another work in progress in progress 🤣🤣. I’ve been hesitant to declare I am writing a memoir because my ADHD has my memory in shreds and I’m honestly not that interesting. I think writing essays would suit me, but I really don’t understand what that means. I think of schoolwork when I think of essays, not full-on novels.

I did read a book in class by a popular essayist, Dave or Dan Sedaris (I’ll look him up in a minute), and that gave me some insight, but I don’t know if I could do it. I’m not interesting and don’t have a lot to say on multiple subjects even if they are stories from my life. Plus, my brain goes eighty different directions on a good day, so wrangling my thoughts for several essays sounds intimidating. Okay, the essayist is David Sedaris. I had to read Me Talk Pretty One Day, an intentional title that nonetheless drove me bonkers.

Adam has philosophy and literary theory this term, both classes I’ve taken. I chose the philosophy class as it’s an elective but it was kind of boring to me. It was an easy A, but didn’t make me really think about things like I assumed it would. Of course, when I am passionate about something and want to talk about it, I get all flustered and confuse myself so I can’t have coherent, rational conversations with people 😒. Most of my thoughts on certain subjects culminate in me fervently stating, “I hate people!,” and Adam’s like, “Yeah, I know. Me, too.” Real head-scratching debates take place in this house. One such subject that my husband and I agree on (we disagree on some things because we are autonomous) is inclusive, “tolerant” people being intolerant to intolerant people.

Now, of course, online that is met with hatred, ignorance, and name-calling. Obviously, I’m a bigot, racist, sexist, transphobe, homophobe, etc., because I think for myself and don’t have utopian delusions. You have the same values as me? That’s fine. You have differing values than me? That’s fine, too. People I come into contact with online cannot wrap their heads around this and it’s gross. I have a large family, and some are left, some are right, some are middle. We all get along. No, we don’t all agree on the big three (religion, abortion, sexuality) and that’s fine. We can feel how we want, vote how we want, and remain friendly and a family.

In terms of the online space, to say you are tolerant and inclusive, then boot people from online communities that have nothing to do with values or politics or whatever you want to call it, that’s just…not being tolerant and inclusive. Reddit is really bad about it, and there are people there who freely and loudly admit to creeping on users and banning those users if they visit or join communities the creepers don’t agree with. Like, WTH, people? That is not tolerant and that is certainly not inclusive. The people being kicked aren’t starting crap and politicizing anything; they’re actually the ones sticking to the sub’s topic, unlike the “tolerant” people on a power kick. I’m getting myself irritated so I will stop there.

I bought security cameras after our riding lawn mower was stolen from our driveway, which is a bad time to buy them, but I didn’t know they would be affordable and I didn’t know some losers would steal our mower that had a flat tire (I didn’t know Adam had left it in the driveway, either). They were $17 apiece and are HD and surprisingly nice cameras (Wyze). They alert me when people, pets, vehicles, or packages are detected and I was alerted twice yesterday that a pet was detected on the porch. My thought each time was it was Gandi and our flowerbed is a Pet Sematary, and I stopped myself from checking the footage both times. We now have Sprinkles, Merlin, and Gandi in our flowerbed in front of the driveway.

Another Fear Realized

It is with a very heavy heart that I write this. Ever since keeping cats solely inside (since 1998), I have been afraid that one or more would die here and I would discover them. I always hoped Mom or Adam would be the one to discover them (terrible, I know) and would tell me about it after burying them. That was not the case yesterday morning. Gandalf the Grey (Gandi) was sleeping in Mom’s shower yesterday, and since the pups aren’t allowed in the bathroom, it made sense. Since he hadn’t been on my keyboard tray visiting with me after I got out of bed, I checked on him when I got up to use the bathroom and found that he wasn’t breathing and wasn’t warm.

I woke Adam up and told him that Gandi wasn’t breathing, so he got up and checked and confirmed that he was gone. Just like in the movies and shows, he walked back to me and sadly shook his head without speaking. I could only wail and ask “Why?!” repeatedly. We don’t know what happened. Before going into the bathroom, Gandi had briefly been on the bed with us by Adam, and after I fell asleep, Adam said he peed on the bed while lying there, then went to lay in the bathroom when Adam took the bedclothes off. I didn’t get a chance to make an appointment for him to see why that happened.

He and Theo have been staying out of Mom’s room since I got Ollie. Gandi stayed on the table most of the time near the cat food and water. Theo stays on the fridge. He had been to the vet two or three months prior for a urinary tract infection and received antibiotics.

For the past couple of days, Gandi had been in Mom’s room with me, sleeping on my keyboard tray and purring while I pet and loved on him. I figured he got lonely and said to hell with the dogs. He let me kiss his head and brush him and was being his old sweet self. Now, he’s gone and I don’t know why. He had just turned 10 in July. Both of my babies I got after Mom died are gone, and I’m so sad. I don’t know what I did wrong or how much he suffered or how I missed his cries for help. I just don’t know.

Crafting Stories and Managing Chaos

So, it’s been fun here! I’m totally burnt out on school, but I think I only have three classes before I graduate! Plus, one of my classes next term is another workshop, and I really like those. Yay! I was working on my first novel (crazy, right?), a few thousand words in, and just really having a hard time with it and thinking it stunk and I stunk, so what did I do? I started another one! I’ve switched from third person present to first person present and I have more words with this second one than I did with the first, which the former took me weeks. I am enjoying the story more and really want to know what happens.

Oh, and authors, if you want a great program to do your writing on, you have to get Scrivener! It is the best writing/editing program I’ve ever used. There’s a steep learning curve with it but after you get comfortable, it seems like the features are very intuitive. Plus, there are tutorials users have written which are very helpful. I’ll screenshot below, which is the program with a theme I selected (Mellow Yellow). The normal program is normal colors and normal font 😊. For $60, it is a steal, and no subscription! I used it to do my poetry collection, and the ebook and print copies look very professional.

Part of Adam coming back from the dead is him actually giving a crap about things and he’s totally not used to it. He’s started thinking about things I always have to think about to run the house and he’s not too fond of it 🤣🤣. Unfortunately, a couple of negative things have occurred. He’s begun thinking about his past addiction (kudos to him for telling me), which I get because he’s a metaphorical runner and tries to get away from dealing with life in any way he can, and he’s been staying with me in Mom’s room for the past month.

Now, I don’t mind him being in here at all, but having the dogs together all day can get nerve-wracking. I was used to cuddling with Ollie and him sleeping by me, and now he’s always playing with Nev or sleeping with him. Plus, the two bozos are very unaware of themselves and others, so when they come in and have a poop run through the house, they jump on the bed and right on me while I’m sleeping! Not a great way to wake up. They are also very butt-y, and I’m getting hit in the legs with butts every time I’m walking 🙄. A good thing is Neville is so smart and easy to train and Ollie tries to follow his lead when I try to teach him something…sometimes. We are working on them not running ahead of me or bowling me over when I take them out, which they are learning. Nev knows what “get back” means and Ollie watches him and scoots back and sits down, for the most part.

Oh, I also have my cat, Phin, and Adam’s cat, Willow, on the desk all the time that they aren’t in the window. I legit have a small litterbox sitting on the desk in front of me because Willow is skittish around the pups. Oh, oh!! I was cleaning out my desk drawer and Willow decided it would make the perfect bed, so…

I need to repaint my desk 😒.

Then, Phin thought that was a good idea, so…

And I’m happy to report they found a great compromise…

Since I don’t spoil my kids at all, I have the top of our small ottoman on the desk, top down, and a bath mat in it so they each have a place to sleep if they don’t want to share. Ah, family…

Dishle While You Work!

It’s been a minute, and not a lot has happened and a lot has happened 😕. I don’t know if I can recall everything. Firstly, and sadly, I’ve sold less than ten copies of my book — nine, to be exact. It is really depressing and makes me sad, especially knowing that my book’s part of Kindle Unlimited and people who subscribe to that can read it at no extra cost to them. Two of the nine copies were from people we’ve never met. Adam plays the XBox with a sweet couple in another state, and they bought a hardcover copy. A guy we “met” through a Facebook group for a true crime podcast bought a paperback copy. He’s such a nice guy, and we occasionally talk and check in with each other. Those two were among the first ones to buy my book, and I am very grateful.

Since publishing my poetry collection, I have decided to write a novel, which is rather ambitious of me! It feels right, though. I’m only around 5,600 words in, but I’m having fun with it and am excited to learn what is going to happen. It is a supernatural(?) novel about a woman who has visions that occur only while she is painting, and there are dire consequences if she refuses to paint to avoid seeing things. It sounds much better in my head. I think it would be categorized as YA (young adult). It includes a love story which is kinda-sorta based on Adam and me. I’m still writing poetry, and my second collection is in progress.

Mom’s dishwasher finally broke; it was 20 years old this year, which is commendable. I got a new one and had a bit of a meltdown when it arrived because it was not what I wanted. They aren’t cheap (several I looked at were over $1,000!!), and I wanted affordable but not the cheapest and one with a metal tub, so I chose what was described as a hybrid, which I thought meant the bottom with the heating element — what I would call the tub — was metal and the sides were not. Well, the entire dishwasher is plastic and only the door is metal 😒😒😒!! I don’t consider that hybrid.

I spent days researching dishwashers and didn’t just pick the first one I came to, so I was very upset and cranky. Returns and refunds were very convoluted and slow for large appliances, so I decided to try it out. However, the warranty really sucks, so if it cracks, which is something that happened to one reviewer, I’m just SOL. I’m very dropsy and I’m aware of that, so I take precautions like using plastic dishware and cups, so I acknowledge that I will most likely drop something in the dishwasher. I still don’t like crying in front of people, but it just happened while Adam was installing the dishwasher and Adam was very understanding. He is so good at trying to understand my emotions and responses to things out of my control or expectations.

Everyone’s flea medicine stopped working and we are all suffering. Everyone has been treated, but the dogs’ medicine is not working and they are miserable 😤😤. I chose flea collars this time because both of them are 100+ pounds and noncarcinogenic flea medicine for that weight is harder to find. My poor boy looks like a lion because his bottom half is nearly bald from his scratching!! I’ve sprayed them, bathed them, medicated them, and sprayed them some more and nothing is working. I’m trying another medicine and returning the worthless collars.

I think that’s about it for updates. I’m suffering from major school burnout, so that’s fun. I’ve also entered Luke, which I can talk about next time.

Hello, Again

I am so very proud of my husband! After finally listening to me, and seeing how miserable I was, he managed to get our psychiatrist to switch one of his medications and I am starting to get my husband back. I missed him. I don’t know if our doctor is getting money to push these medications but Adam’s told him numerous times they weren’t helping, and he would not change them. I’m still not sold on the Trintellix. I had a genetic test to see what worked for my body, and I would like Adam to get it as well but I think our doctor moved the main office back near the state university since we “see” him via phone since COVID. If he could do it at the hospital, that would be great.

Anyway, Adam’s starting to write again and wanting to paint again. He’s mowed the front yard and weedeated — I can see Mom’s flower bed! Heck, I can see our front yard! I’ve been wanting to go out with the boys and walk around near the woods but the grass was too high and the woods are moving closer to the house. We have to get a new weedeater because the one I got is battery-operated and really light and doesn’t get the job done on what those stupid zinc plant people replaced our grass with 😡. Oh, yeah; we live in a small town that had a zinc plant, which has been demolished, and DuPont replaced our yard with nothing but weeds. And I really mean weeds. Lowest bidder is the winner, huh?

On top of all that, he’s been doing the laundry and the dishes, and he cooks for me regularly. Most importantly, he comes and sees me whenever I get up and visits with me before I start work, which is the best. He’s noticed I’ve been…more attracted…to him than I was, and I told him it’s because the medicine has helped him be who he was before Mom died, in fewer words. I told him helping out with the house stuff is sexier than acting/looking sexy.

Oh! Our floor between the water heater and the furnace has been getting higher and higher and we could not figure out why. This has been slowly happening for several years, which I thought Piper was peeing there or Phin’s ice cubes were melting there (he loved to play soccer with ice). Then, it started dipping. The hills and dips really escalated within the past month or two, so Adam cut the flooring and peeled it back and the subfloor is drenched under there. No leaky washer, water heater, or dishwasher. From what he could find online, it seems our water heater is boiling over and soaking into the floor, which is possibly OSB, probably lower quality something else. Another part of the floor to replace!

I really can’t be mad about the house because I’m too happy to have my husband back, honestly. Mom sure did a number on us when she died.

In the Garden of Remorse Free Preview

Check out the poems titles and read my introduction for free! Also, if you have Kind Unlimited, you can read the entire collection!! I would also be more than happy to sign any paperback or hardcover copies.

I’m Published! Grab Your Copy!!

Well, after a big snafu, my first poetry collection, In the Garden of Remorse, is available on Amazon! I accidentally published it while trying to order a proof copy 😫. A dear friend from California purchased the version with some formatting errors, but he said he would treasure it, warts and all. All versions are available right now, including Kindle Unlimited!

I did not know independent authors still got screwed on the royalties. I had to price my paperback to a ridiculous price (especially for new authors) just to get a little over $5 per sale. I think I get around $3 per sale for the ebook. That would be fine if I had a following or could do decent marketing. No one follows me or cares what I have to say. Oh, well. I’m not doing it for the money, but it would be a great perk. Due to unpopular demand, I’ve decreased all prices 😒.

I hope I make a sale that isn’t family or friends 😂. I need a hype man!

~*~Influencer~*~

Radiate the skin and multiply the melanin.  

Smother the pores with powder and oil.  

Line the lips and eyes like a practiced cartoonist.  

Grind the teeth down and cover with synthetic ones — 

fake teeth for fake smiles.  

Walk on tiptoes with calves at full attention.  

Self-medicate to eradicate the hate.  

Compress the organs — sway the bones.  

The camera adds ten pounds — 

best lose 20 or 30.  

Minimum mass for maximum exposure.

~*~A Fish Named Henry~*~

I won a goldfish at the county fair.  

Poor goldfish — seeing that ping-pong 

ball looming toward his home like Apophis.  

His golden body glistened in the sunlight 

as he swam in a bowl won from the dime pitch.  

With the pride and confidence of any fish parent, 

I changed his water at the sink — and watched 

in horror as his slick orange body 

slid from the bowl and down the drain.  

The horror!  The absolute tragedy!  

Propelled by child’s logic, I fled 

the house and ran down to the creek bank 

to tell my brother and neighbor what happened 

and asked if they saw Henry swim out of the pipe.  

My brother deciphered my mucoid blubbering, 

then promptly laughed at me.  

Weeks later, our neighbor told me, 

whilst fishing, he saw a big goldfish 

swimming around and looking happy.  

It took me a few years to realize 

the truth, but when I did, I didn’t 

appreciate it any less.