Tag Archives: autism routine

Autism: Learning to Hygge

One thing goes in, and several more go out. It has always been the same for me. While other people seem to get used to their routine, and can slowly add other things to it, I just can’t. I am 41 years old (as I write this) and somehow I still keep trying to convince myself I can do this. Get used to my routine, add something else in.

But it never works. I might hold together for a day or two, and then it all falls apart, and I struggle even to keep up with the routine I had previously had no issues with. In fact, I don’t just struggle, I can’t do it. It takes a long time to build myself up to that place again.

It has always been the same.

However this month (January 2018) I took something out of my routine (the pressure to write this blog on a schedule) and then was able to add to my schedule without falling apart. This, I find, is amazing!

Two weeks ago my husband tuned his second guitar for me to use. He showed me a couple of things, and the next day I started practising to a YouTube video. My fingers hurt A LOT!!! but it sure felt good.

For several days, due to the pain in my fingers, I put topical pain relief on my fingertips in order to endure the practise. It worked. It still hurt, but not so much I couldn’t play through it.

About the fourth day I stopped needing the pain cream, and slightly more than a week in I felt more numb than pain. I like practising the guitar. I learned two cords in that first lesson, and have been practising going back and forth in those two chords ever since. It is very relaxing.

I like the repetition. I like the sound. I like that my mind can wander while I am playing, and it doesn’t mess me up right away. I like how happy it makes me feel.

It really does make me happy!

This year, as many years before, I have been praying, “Lord teach me to live well.” I don’t live well. I struggle hugely with depression and anxiety – which is part of the reason I decided not to write so regularly (spread the joy, not the sadness -right?)

A friend of mine got me into researching “Hygge;” a Danish term that doesn’t directly translate into English, but means: coziness, comfort, a ‘homey’ feeling… a good way to live.

Reading about “Hygge” makes me happy.

My Mom has been sending me e-books. Many of them are either books I love to read and re-read, or books on ‘Hygge.” Seeing those books on my e-reader makes me happy.

Waking up to three little faces and wriggling bodies (my girls) makes me happy. Sometimes I have a purring, kneading cat added to that mix. He makes me happy, too.

Walking my girls (or pulling them through the snow in their sleigh) makes me happy.

Practising my guitar, practising my keyboard, researching my special interests (plants, zero waste living, vegan foods, interior design, gardens…) looking through Pinterest… all of these things make me happy.

One thing out, several things in… Some things can change.

I am learning to Hygge, and this month (for the first January in years) I am happy!


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Autism: One Thing In Several Things Out

Though I really want to, I haven’t been able to keep up.

One thing in, several things out.

It is always that way.

Even when the ‘thing in’ is a good thing – such as now, with my mom visiting. Still I can’t keep up, no matter how hard I try.

It isn’t even like I haven’t got the time. Most afternoons I can expect at least a couple of hours when she is reading her book, or playing her games (Facebook games – so addicting, so frustrating!) And even when we are visiting, I could be writing, too. But I don’t.

I want to, but I don’t.

Coming up with ideas of what to write? Also not an issue. I have the ideas. I have enough thoughts going through my head to have the posts written, and then some. There really doesn’t seem to be any reason why I am struggling so much to do these things. I just am. Struggling.

The visit is going well. I am less anxious, and so much more content than I have been… ever, really.


Everything is good. Everything. Yet still I struggling to juggle the routine.

And at the end of the week, with my anxiety strong with the knowledge that I am ‘behind’ (meaning only two weeks ahead of schedule rather than the three I prefer) I sit down, and rush to get out those posts and ‘catch up.’ I assure myself that I will be able to keep up next week. After all, the ideas – even the whole posts many times – are already there in my head.

I just need to sit down and write.

And I love to write. I do.

Yet each week the days seem to fly by, and I get behind. So fast.

Even now as I write, I am being pulled away from the computer – for my mom is in the kitchen doing the dishes for the second time today. It should have been my turn. So I know that for the next several days, I will rush to get to the kitchen before she does so that I can do the dishes, and not feel bad that she got there faster again.

One thing in, several things out.

Still, I am determined to keep up with this blog somehow.

But I wonder how in the world other people do it. How do they keep up with everything, when I have so little that must be done, and still can’t do it. And once more I come face to face with the idea that this world is too much for me. Too fast. Too busy. Too demanding. Too hard. Too much… too much… too much.


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Autism: Through the Storm 2

The storm, though bringing a lot of wind, didn’t seem any worse than others we had been through.  We don’t live in a very windy city, but a few times a year storms like this come.

Since in our area it is very rare to have the power go out for even two hours, I was surprised to wake up to find it still out. Large trees had fallen across the power lines on both sides of Lakeshore (the street above us that takes us to town) we were told. In fact, to get to work, my husband nearly gave up trying to find detours he could get through with all the trees down.

The power was out from about 10:15pm until 3:10pm the next day – nearly 17 hours! Thankfully (as far as I have heard) no people or animals were harmed by the storm. Fences, garages, vehicles, even some houses weren’t so lucky. There were trees down and debris everywhere! The lakefront trail that we walk along had three trees fallen across it in the short section that we can reach before the trail is flooded (as it does every summer.) Three – and all of them seemingly healthy trees, and that not mentioning the numerous ones that fell beside rather than on the trail.


A few days later we found that at least two other trails were closed due to danger – we found the one when my mom and I tried to take my girls for a walk. It had red police tape saying, “Danger” all across the entrance. I guess some loose trees haven’t fallen yet.

During the time when we didn’t have any power, I was surprised by the difference in the concerns each of us had.

My dog, Molly, was scared of a pine cone that landed in our yard, which hadn’t been there before (they were scattered all over the yard of our neighbour across the hedge, though.) True to her, after running from it, she decided the best thing to do would be to try and eat it. Funny girl.

My husband worried about how much damage there was to clean up when he got to work. Tarps everywhere! And then was concerned that he wouldn’t be able to get to work at all since there were trees across the main road in both directions.

When she got up, my mom was concerned that she wouldn’t be able to have her morning cappuccino. We solved that issue with the use of a camping kettle, and the side burner on our barbecue (since my husband always deals with things made on the barbecue – and I have little interest in learning – I was glad to find out that she knew how to work it.)

My son was worried that his routine would be broken for the first time in nearly 17 months, as he has been doing his German, pixel art, and word building every morning since January of 2016.

And me? I was okay with not having a computer, or a hot drink, or being able to get to town, or even the debris all over my lawn. I felt that I would be fine if I never had those things again.

Yet my concern was that the power would not return in time to save the food in my fridge and freezer. Food… it is always food. I guess when someone has such an issue with something, it does tend to become their main concern. And as the hours ticked by, I became more and more determined to find ways to store my food which were not dependent on electricity.

For thousands of years people lived without the use of fridges and freezers – yet one storm… one power outage, and so much could have been lost.


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Autism: Through the Storm 1

The weather warning came in a couple of days ahead of schedule, as I remember it. It was no surprise when the wind hit, and it wasn’t the first time we watched from the (hopeful) safety of our home as the cedar hedge beside us nearly bent in half with the gusts.


It was frightening. I will give it that. Yet we don’t live in tornado or hurricane country. It could have been so much worse.

Though I watched the maple tree in our front yard, concerned that it might come through the house, I wasn’t that worried. We have had such storms before, and it held up just fine.

I held off a little while before shutting down my computer, hoping that we wouldn’t get a power surge and fry it before I could shut it down – but then, a power surge would likely fry the computer whether it was turned on or not.

There was time to get through my bedtime routine (take care of my ‘girls’ – brush their teeth, feed them, take them out – write my journal, watch some Netflix, read on my tablet…) when the power went out. “No big deal,” I thought. It was expected, after all.

I turned off my tablet, plugged it in (out of habit, obviously it wouldn’t be charging) and tried to sleep. Tried.

There is this cherry tree (oh poor cherry tree) which I planted ten years ago in the worst place I could have chosen. To be fair, the tag said it was a dwarf – and it is most definitely not a dwarf. Even so it was a bad place for it as there is too much shade. It towers above our roof line, though we have cut it back, and is right against the corner of our carport.

All night long that three swayed back and forth in the strong wind making loud creaking, and deep moaning noises – it almost sounded like a really sad ghost movie or something (but couldn’t have been as there was no power.)

Above that, since my aquarium wasn’t running for white background noise (I have no fish, but keep the aquarium running in my room to help me sleep) every sound had Molly barking… and there were a lot of sounds.

Needless to say I woke up tired. Very tired.


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Autism: Lost Week

I think the week was good. I mean, I remember that I had gone out to the show a couple of times with my husband, and that we really enjoyed what we had watched. From that moment until now, however, everything has become fuzzy.

It came on all of a sudden and unexpected. I was cleaning my dishwasher – on a Thursday even though it is not my cleaning day – when I started to cough. It came from my lungs, and from the beginning I struggled to get through more than a few seconds without coughing. Due to the sudden onset, and how it just wouldn’t let up, I assumed that it was caused by the disinfectant I had used in the dishwasher. It made sense. It was pretty powerful, and those things often leave me coughing – only not so long.

When my husband came home, he was coughing, too. He said he first noticed it around 3pm (mine was sometime between 2-2:30pm.) It came from his lungs, and wouldn’t let up for more than a few seconds at a time right from the beginning.


Even so we went out that night as planned. We went to see the dress rehearsal of “Stereotype High” at our local theatre. All evening long we were coughing every few minutes – but we couldn’t be sick. I mean, colds don’t start full on like that. They just don’t. So despite the coincidence that my husband and I began coughing at nearly the same time, and even though we were at separate parts of town when it began, we thought it was environmental rather than a virus. After all, aside from the cough, we didn’t feel sick.

I must say, I really enjoyed the play! Even though it was a comedy, and typically I don’t at all like comedies (the jokes, rather than making me laugh, often leave me feeling nauseous) I really liked this one. It was funny – like “Corner Gas” funny! I laughed a lot (and coughed a lot) and didn’t feel sick about it.

The next morning I felt sick, though. Very sick. So I emailed my friend who was supposed to come for a visit to warn her against coming, and then I fell asleep. Normally I don’t nap, but on that day I was so tired I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

My husband came home from work early, and went straight to bed. From Friday afternoon until early Monday morning, we barely woke up to acknowledge another day passing. I fed my girls, and took them outside, and went to bed. Over and over.

All over achy, feverish, chilled, burning eyes, bad cough, no appetite… sick! So very sick.

And then only thought I remember having that entire weekend – despite the fact that my dog was scheduled to be spayed out of town that Monday – was a reminder of Stephen King’s “The Stand.” In the beginning, a few people went into public places with a cough, and pretty soon the whole world was dying. That weekend I was pretty sure I was dying (and if that were true, we likely spread it to a theatre full of people, which would quickly spread to the entire world) and I was pretty sure I didn’t care.

Well, here I am 8 days later, and it is the first time in 8 days that I can form enough of a thought to write my blog post. It is the first time in over a week that I have been able to keep my eyes open. And as my dog sits healing from her surgery on my lap, I wonder how we even got through that day.

I guess I really was sick after all. Sorry theatre people!



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Autism: Time Distorted

A sound interrupts my sleep: a cat meowing, a cupboard being opened, the flushing of a toilet. I turn over, and am instantly pounced by squiggling, wiggling balls of fur. Right up in my face… ‘are you up, Mom?’ Time to get up. Typically it takes an hour for me to properly wake up and get out of bed, no matter how long I have slept. These girls depend on me however. They need to be fed, and they need to go outside, and so up I get.

Rubbing my eyes I go to the washroom and brush my teeth. Despite the rush, my routine must be followed. The cats are waiting for me in the kitchen. I pull out four bowls: two get wet cat food, canned; two get homemade dog food, warmed in the microwave (they aren’t quite thawed from the night before.)


My girls eat fast, and look longingly at the cat bowls. My feline friends eat slower, daintily. I take the girls outside, and hope the cats are done by the time we come in, for Clara and Molly will not be deterred. They dive for the bowls the moment we come in, before I have a chance to get my boots off.

Grabbing my breakfast, I head towards the living room, turn on my computer, and sit down. The moment I do, two little girls leap into my lap – I have learned to be prepared. They lie down, in their favourite place, and fall back to sleep. Sometimes Ditch joins us, sometimes he doesn’t. While on the Internet, I head to Swagbucks to attempt a survey. I have made about $100 since September (5 months ago.) I used to make that in a day at my old job, and wonder if there are better ways to earn money.

Turning to the news, I quickly check to see what is happening in the world before continuing on to my emails. Several are deleted without opening them, and I am left with maybe 5 or 6 each morning that I am interested in. After reading them, I head towards Facebook, and quickly skim through the feed of ‘nothing’ posts to check that everyone is well. Of course, not everyone shows up in my feed. Instead I get several stories from groups I never asked to follow, and multiple shared posts coming mostly from the same sources.

It takes too long to go through it all, and I start to get irritated by the time I reach the last of the posts I read yesterday. By this time I am feeling overwhelmed, so I play Facebook games (Candy Crush and Farm Heroes Saga) to try and calm down. More often than not the level I am on annoys me further. My son asks me why I keep playing, and I wonder the same myself, but I am compulsive – and I have gotten so far. If only I could just make it to the end, but they keep making more levels.

Often it is already close to 10am by this point, though my girls get me up around 7:30. I realize it is not a great use of time, but when I don’t follow through my routine, I feel it heavily, and it makes the rest of my day harder to get through. Time to go outside again. At this time of year, they don’t stay out long. I guess the routine will change once spring comes.

The next few hours either go to laundry and cleaning, or to my fixations (Pinterest, the Realtor website, online research…) I need to have my days of fixations, or I am unable to function at all on cleaning days, and not able to visit when it comes time to go out. I need many hours free for this on an almost daily basis, or I will fall apart… even with this, I frequently get overwhelmed.

In the middle of my ‘free’ time, I have to get lunch for myself and my girls, and take them out again. It is hard to pull myself away.

Mid-afternoon is time for my girls to get their walk. In the hot days of summer, this will have to change. I think of that constantly. For now, though, it is the best time for us to go. Part way through the walk, they get cold feet, or something scares them. They won’t walk any further, and I have to pick them up and carry them home. Clara frequently asks for ‘up’ by the time we reach the end of our (not particularly long) driveway.

At home again, I go into my exercise routine (twenty minutes on the elliptical machine while watching a documentary on Netflix – cast to my TV on Chromecast) followed by a time practising my keyboard. From there, I check my email again, which reminds me it is time to practise Spanish on Duolingo. I had a really hard time getting back to me after my last visit with my Psychiatrist, when she dismissed the things I do as part of my routine, and told me I should look into work, or volunteering, or going to school… everything I was doing to improve myself became harder after that.

Suddenly it is time to make supper, and feed my girls, followed by an evening watching Netflix videos and writing in my journal. The day has felt really busy. When I have more to do: Go to church or Bible Study, or even go out to a hockey game, or to watch a play – I have to brace myself. One ‘extra’ event (including appointments) can feel overwhelming.

I consider again my Psychiatrist’s advice to find work, or volunteer, or go to school – and it overwhelms me. I become anxious, and shut down, and my routine is broken. How could I possibly find the time? I remember when I was working, though it was only part time, I wasn’t able to accomplish most of the above. My house stayed messy, I didn’t exercise or try to learn anything… any attempt at routine was met with failure. I just couldn’t do it, and I felt anxious, overwhelmed, and irritated just about all the time.

My sense of time is distorted, I think. It seems to take me longer to do just about anything, and I need a lot more time than others seem to in between each activity in order to recuperate. For that reason, though it likely seems to others (who are able to work full time, keep their house, study, research, enjoy a hobby, or otherwise improve themselves – and still find time for church, other activities, and time with friends) that my life is very slow – I actually still feel very busy, and am overwhelmed by that busyness much of the time.


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Autism: I See You

Layered with jackets, coats, toques, and gloves, he heads out the door. The weather report says it is -16 outside, and I believe it – I took my girls out for under a minute, and my little one was crying because her feet hurt. He has to spend the entire day outside. 8 hours in the snow and cold.

Day after day he heads to this job. Five days a week, and it is rare for him to complain. The weather is cold, it is hot, it is wet… All day he is busy outside, one person after another asking him to help them, hardly a moment to think. All day moving furniture. All day ‘peopling.’ Often he has to stay late. He comes home tired. Wet. Sweaty. Hungry. Day after day.

As he heads out the door, I sit in my chair at my computer, dogs on my lap. I pick up my tea to finish the last of it. Warm under my blanket, I acknowledge him leaving… usually. I feel guilty that he is going and I am staying. I know I can’t, but that doesn’t make me feel better. He likes his job, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t come even close. In fact, at this time the very idea of going out to work, to volunteer, to… pretty much anything, overwhelms me. Still I feel guilty.

Defensive, too. Not because I feel I do enough in comparison to him, but because… well, when he is home, I am nearly always sitting. I am paralyzed. It isn’t his fault, this is all me, but I can’t move when he is home – and I want to tell him this isn’t what I do all the time. When he is gone I might get up and clean. I play with our animals. I do the dishes and the laundry. I organize and rearrange our furniture (which I understand he doesn’t quite appreciate since he doesn’t like change…. still)

I exercise. I write my blog. I cook. Only no matter what I do, it rarely compares to what he does, and I feel guilty still. And there are lots of days when I am so overwhelmed with life that I actually do shut down and spend just about the entire day on the computer – while he is out moving the equivalent of two households of furniture in a day.

Defensive because it isn’t that I don’t see what he does, but I can’t. I would love to be able to go out to work, and be as busy as he is, and still live well – but that isn’t possible. I’ve tried. I’ve tried a lot, and I don’t do well at all. But then I still struggle a lot when I am at home with few places to go, and little I have to do. Not fair, but not because I don’t want to be.

Defensive because I do have an income of my own, and though I don’t go out to earn it, I do try to live to earn it – by writing this blog, and taking care of our home, and trying to get well so I can do more (only since I am so often overwhelmed and struggling, it is hard even when I am trying my very best to believe that I will actually ever get there.)

And then on his days off, he runs errands, and volunteers to sing and speak in the senior’s homes, and still deals with people – and he cooks those days, because I am paralyzed, and he tries. I know he does.

But I get overwhelmed by how he ‘isn’t as clean as me’; by wet counters, and open drawers, and extra dirty dishes, and so much meat! I get overwhelmed, and shut down, and he takes over. He does the cooking, and he does the dishes, and then he rests for the little time he has home. He does all of this, and still stays calm most of the time.

I am not easy to live with. I didn’t say I was. With my sensory issues, and extreme sensitivity to anything ‘wrong’ with the world (such as factory farms and the suffering of animals – and the greed of corporations that leave me unable to buy a new dishwasher because “they could make them to last, but don’t”) and my struggles with communication, and with changes to my routine, or being pulled out of my fixations, and my struggles with food, and… it isn’t possible for me to be easy to live with – it is not easy for me to live with other people.

But I do see him. I do see what he does. I do see who he is. And though I am often overwhelmed with how his life affects my issues, I am grateful for him – and really don’t know how I could live without him.

Easter 2016


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Autism: Twice in a Day?

I went out once already today. I went out once since Sunday. Isn’t that enough?

True, it was planned. Even my son came with me. We have to brace ourselves for these ‘shopping’ days. It would never do to try to be spontaneous. For one thing, we don’t have a vehicle. That means we have to get up with my husband, and ride into town with him, as he goes into work.

And while he doesn’t exactly start work early, we aren’t normally awake before he leaves. My son stays up late at night. I suppose he could change his routine – but to ask an Autistic to change their routine… For me, it isn’t just about routine (although I, too, would struggle if someone asked me to change mine) but the fact that I have so much trouble getting to sleep at night.

So while I may go to bed early each night (and I do) and while I do try to get to sleep when my husband turns out the lights just around 10pm, it nearly always takes me a couple of hours to get to sleep in the first place, and then my sleep is broken as I awaken through the night for pain, fear, and frequent bathroom breaks. No. Getting up early doesn’t work for me. It has to be planned.

It was out of necessity – I gained so much weight during the fall due to my medication, that I really needed new clothes for the spring and summer. Today was the start of $2 bag sale (where whatever we can fit in a regular sized grocery bag, costs just $2 – and quite a bit can be stuffed in the bag.) If I waited until tomorrow, the shelves would have been picked over. So I went down today.

My son had things of his own that he needed to get, so he came along – one of the only times, aside from his weekday walks, that he is willing to leave the house.

But the plan for the outing itself was exhausting. It is unfortunate that the bag sale always starts on the same day as our life group meeting – meaning that if I want to go out, I have to go out twice in one day. Even leaving the house a couple of times a week is a lot for me, so twice a day is highly overwhelming.

And then, to take the vehicle, means not just leaving the house twice on a bag sale day – but also likely means I have to go out an additional time to pick my husband up from work.

Well, that was the plan. Then, while my son and I were sitting in the car, my husband tried to start it – and it didn’t turn on. Battery problems. Again! I thought about staying home, but as I mentioned, I really did need ‘new’ clothes. So, as my husband worked on the battery, my son and I discussed it, and decided we would not get cold stuff. We would just go to Walmart to pick up what he needed, then (hopefully) drive back to the thrift store to do our shopping there. After that, we would leave the vehicle for my husband, and walk home.

It is not easy for my son and I to change plans like that, and while it did mean that I wouldn’t have to go out again to pick my husband up, it also meant another 7km or so walk along the trail that leads from town to our house. Thankfully the path was still open for walking, as it floods and becomes a bird sanctuary through the later part of spring and through the summer.


Well, we made it, and I feel the day was productive in a sense. However, I am now exhausted – and the idea of going out and meeting with people feels overwhelming to me, when all I want to do is lie down and maybe watch a movie. Then again, it was my choice to go out on Life Group day… it is so hard to know what to do, and it is on days like this I wish I could function as a typical person, where going to a couple of stores in one day does not make the rest of that day (or week, in my case) seem overwhelmingly busy.


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Autism: Back to Routine

Finally after many weeks (many months, really, as the medication caused such strong issues even while I was on it) I am starting to feel more like myself. Of course, it has only been a few days, but it is nice to have a routine again. It is wonderful to be up off the couch, and actually doing things again.

In the mornings, I have begun doing yoga. I have to find some way to lose the thirty pounds I gained while on Mirtazapine. Weight is harder to lose than it is to gain, however, so I am trying to alter my diet as well. The thing is, though, that on my own, I have never had trouble with weight. It is only when I am on medication that I gain like this.

Changing my diet has not proven to be easy, however. Food has always been an issue for me. Not that I need the unhealthy foods, I do crave vegetables most of the time, but the fact that so many (even healthy) foods leave me feeling nauseous. This includes water, unfortunately, and no matter how hard I try to make myself drink it, I just can’t.

And then there is the hunger. I don’t do well with hunger, and in that state, cannot think of anything else. So the longest I have been able to hold out on a diet in the last few years has been maybe 5 hours. I will maybe have a fruit smoothie with unsweetened almond milk for breakfast. Then I will try some sort of low calorie drink (this week it has been hot unsweetened lemon water,) with a salad for lunch.

For the salad dressing, I use a little bit of olive oil, mixed with black pepper and tumeric. I even add a few cashews or sunflower seeds to the vegetables to help hold off the hunger. While I am eating, it feels really good, but it doesn’t work. Lunch finishes, and I remain hungry, and I fight it for an hour or so. Then I have to have something to help me feel full. This is where the diet fails.

But it isn’t like I am eating unhealthy the rest of the time. I just can’t seem to lose the weight that was put on by the medication. It is as if it has changed my metabolism, or something. Anyway, though my food issues don’t seem to help with weight loss, the yoga feels good!

Along with yoga, I have finally returned to studying Spanish, reading my Bible, and practicing my keyboard. Pretty good, I think, since not long ago all I could do was lie on the couch watching Netflix all day. I couldn’t even think long enough to enjoy reading or researching (two of my favourite activities.) Now I am even working on learning a new song – where my keyboarding practice for the last six years or so involved playing the same five songs over and over.


Still, I continue to suffer with shocks every day, and the pressure in my head never seems to go away. I am down to 2.5mg each day of my last medication, and it helps to take that amount daily, rather than the 5mg every second day as I had been advised. My energy continues to be low, and my nausea continues to be high – but at least they are not what they were.

I can sit this way. I can stand this way. I can think this way. I know that it may not seem like a lot of activity for one day – especially since I often complete the yoga, Spanish, and Bible reading in an hour. But for me, for now, it is a lot, and I am thankful for it.


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Broken Contact Lens

There were any number of topics I could have chosen to write about today. Inspiration has been flowing through me for the last little while, and already I am several days ahead of myself with my posts, but my contact broke today.

A little under two years ago, I decided to try reusable gas permeable contact lenses in place of disposables. I was quite proud of myself for getting through the adjustment period – which was torture!

Truly, it felt like jagged pieces of plastic sitting on my eyeball, and every time I blinked, they would move and hurt. I wondered for those weeks how this couldn’t be damaging my eyes, but I had read that this type was healthier than disposables, and so I pushed through.

At the end of the adjustment period, with the exception of times when I got dust in my eyes, I liked my GP lenses so much better than my disposables.

My sight was clearer, they were much more comfortable, the cost was less, and I could look between distances without getting dizzy and unfocused. I really liked them.

However, in order to not revert to the pain of those first weeks, I had to wear them nearly every day. Some days I would only wear them for a few hours, and others for the entire day, but I couldn’t go more than a day or two in between without them becoming uncomfortable.

And then today, as I was washing the lens prior to inserting it, it broke. I don’t think I pressed hard on it or anything, but I have had them for a while, and I guess it just became fragile.

As I would have to go to the ophthalmologist for both an eye exam and a contact lens fitting, both of which are very expensive, before I could even order a new pair, I guess I will just stick with my glasses. I can’t afford the appointments at this time, and it would be weeks before my contacts would be in… I am not ready to be tortured again.

Although this frees me from having to wear them every day, it also makes me sad. I really could see so much better with these lenses – especially in my right eye, which has astigmatism. I could see stars better than at any other time since I was a teenager. I could see distances which my glasses do not allow.

Glasses, which only work in a certain line of sight, make me dizzy. Disposable contact lenses, which only adjust for distance, also make me dizzy when I look at things that aren’t quite so far away – and they were also not as good at correcting my vision.

It seems unless I am willing to go for laser surgery, or endure the struggle of adjusting to gas permeable lenses again, there is no real solution to my vision issues, and I almost want to cry.

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Posted by on November 7, 2015 in Autism: Reality


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