this and that

my education

mielikkisrealm — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 07:39:55 +0000

I’ve had the Alan Parson’s Project stuck in my brain for 3 days now. The songs, The System of Dr. Tarr and Professor Fether, and The Raven. Just what you need to make you feel better, just what you need to make you feel…you’re in need of Dr. Tarr and Professor Fether…Doth Quoth the Raven….Evermore….

It occurred to me that I got my Edgar Allen Poe education via the Alan Parson’s Project and my classical music exposure via Looney Tunes. Pretty pathetic.

I should update about the school situation but I don’t want to do it right now. I’m pretty depressed. Not about the school stuff, that seems to be moving forward in a positive way actually, but I’m drained and depleted and heading into a difficult time of year anyway.

I’m lonely, isolated, stuck, and depressed and see no way out. I’m not sleeping well. I don’t want to live like this anymore.

life’s little reminders

mielikkisrealm — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 06:51:37 +0000

Just when I was telling myself that I’m not bipolar. I’ve been relatively stable for some time now, gee, maybe I should think about going off the meds…

I notice that I’m up all night long again. Meds aren’t putting me to sleep. Moods are swinging hard and fast. I feel very grateful that I have a relatively minor disorder and that I’m not so far gone that I don’t recognize this for what it is. Or maybe I’ve just been burned one too many times and I’m finally taking it seriously. I’m not going to let it get out of control this time. This is usually this start of the crash and burn. I don’t have the fun mania’s that I hear about. I get goofy but it’s short lived. It quickly turns into irritable hypomania then into darkness.

Seroquel isn’t knocking me out. I could take more but Seroquel is a weight gainer. Always a trade off. Sanity or vanity, or diabetes or heart disease or tardive dyskinesia…Topamax is my mood stabilizer. Could increase that I suppose but could I get any dumber? Topamax has the nickname Dopamax because of its cognitive side effects. I have been getting more and more depressed, but delusional me wanted to deny that and go off meds. Antidepressants backfire on me. No relief there. Perhaps a lobotomy would work.

Enough of that. I just baked a batch of cookies. From the Cooks Illustrated Family Cookbook. Last week I baked their Snickerdoodle recipe and I must say it was delicious. I give it 3 thumbs up. Tonight, at midnight, I made the sugar cookie recipe. This one was not my favorite sugar cookie recipe. I give it a raspberry and 1/2 a knuckle. It called for all the yummy cookie ingredients, real butter, eggs, vanilla. Maybe my technique was off. I like my gramma’s better, but it feeds an army. Her’s calls for shortening and butter and is just divine.

So I think I’m going to knit my sister’s penis shaped lip balm cozies for Christmas, that is if I can muster up enough talent to do it. I’ve tried to knit my daughter a shawl with this yarn called Noro Kureyon. It looks like Margaret the Trash Heap. This yarn sucks. I read reviews about it, rave reviews. The colors are beautiful! Yarn is lovely, wonderful to work with. HAH! The yarn has little pieces of sticks in it. It’s spun so poorly that it’s like chunks of roving and then it goes to tight string like lengths of yarn. It’s wool, itchy, stick laden wool. I will never buy Noro Noro “>Kureyon again. I made a scarf out of Noro Silk Garden and I liked that stuff, not Kureyon. Now I have to frog Margaret the Trash Heap and figure out what to do with all that crappy yarn.

mielikkisrealm — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 10:22:15 +0000

I wonder if it’s a “mom” thing, this protective drive we have. It’s almost primal. I become Wonder Woman when it comes to my son.

I’ve been working on the follow up letter to send to the district. I do not appreciate the threat against voicing my concerns about the teacher refusing to implement my son’s IEP. I don’t appreciate being told not to worry about failing grades, that they are meaningless. I don’t appreciate being told by the teacher that she knows better than the SPED team what my son needs when he is failing her class.

This also goes against my nature. I don’t like making waves. And I’m not looking forward to fighting her retaliation. I didn’t go to college and I don’t remember much of anything about composition so I’m having a hard time putting the letter together. I have good advice, though, from a very good LD/SPED forum, and I’m very grateful to the kind, experienced and very intelligent people there.

I’m trying not to let my emotions get in the way. I’m trying to lay out the facts. I tried to do that at conferences, too, and I actually did OK, even amid the “squeaky wheel” accusations and “shouting’ accusations. It wasn’t until that story about DS that made me cry that I lost it. That shook me because I couldn’t stop, and I mean I couldn’t stop for hours. I have to get a handle on the crying if I’m to fight this, and it looks like this will be a royal battle.

Squeak

mielikkisrealm — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 10:26:17 +0000

I am so pissed, so flabbergasted, almost speechless. Almost.

Battling the freaking SCHOOL of all things.

I got into an argument with the teacher at conferences today. First of all, she claimed that DS wasn’t in her class. We go to her room, she asked who we were, we said, DS’s parent’s and she said that she didn’t think that she had DS in her class. I said, “oh yes you do…” (I said it like that, too.)

Not a good start. She dug out the grade sheet and realized that DS is a SPED kid and I am a “squeaky wheel” (her term, I later found out) so she called in SPED case manager and SPED support teacher.

Start going through grades, groups and I begin to disagree with her methods. She is not used to people disagreeing with her. She gets defensive. I point out an “F” that he gets in a paper in which he is to find “irony” – tough concept for ASD kids, and this is a group assignment, another tough thing for ASD kids. I think that since he is having enough trouble with the concepts, since he is barely passing, that perhaps he shouldn’t be in the group that he is in. Teacher disagrees, citing another assignment in which DS received “D-” and this clearly shows …WHAT?? I don’t know?

I then say A D MINUS?? a little too loudly and teacher of the year accuses me of shouting at her. I was not shouting. Trust me, the whole damn school would have known if I was shouting. She then rants at me about being a “squeaky wheel” and how my being a squeaky wheel is causing resentment and retaliation and that it can create unfairness, that SPED para has to give DS undue attention that she could be giving other students because I am being a squeaky wheel. Teacher doesn’t elaborate as to what retaliation we can expect.

I tell TOTY that I will NEVER apologize for being a squeaky wheel. Teach says that I should apologize and I then tell her that perhaps she can no longer teach DS objectively. This pisses off TOTY to no end and she proceeds to tell me that she goes out of her way to teach these students, by which she means kids with ASD, I think, and has for many years and that she knows how to cater to their needs, blah blah blah. More blah, blah, blah.

As my eyes glaze over, I tell her that I apologize for raising my voice, I tell her I don’t want an adversarial relationship with her, however I will NEVER apologize for being the squeaky wheel. I then ask if we can we discuss my son’s academic progress and get us back on track.

So I ask what modifications she is using with his classwork. She said there aren’t any in his IEP. I say, yes there are. She said, no there aren’t. I ask if anyone has a copy of his IEP as I didn’t bring one. SPED para has one. She gets out the list of mods written into his IEP. (I practiced restraint and didn’t get a smug look on my face, either, when I have clearly proven her wrong.) We go over them one by one. Teacher tells me why DS doesn’t need the modifications. Teacher tells me that most 9th graders struggle with the same issues that my son struggles with. I didn’t realize teacher has the qualifications to diagnose or prescribe educational interventions. This last sentence is dripping with sarcasm.

Para tells me what modifications she uses with my son. They see that I am open to discussion about the modifications and that what we really need are accommodations to the work and the hostility lessens somewhat. (And yes, it really was a hostile atmosphere.) They tell me not to look at actual GRADES. You know, all the “F’s” and “D-’s” WTF???? Just listen to what they TELL you, it will all be all right. Everything is just fine. I don’t understand this one at all. There is no problem, he’s just like everyone else. Someone explain this to me.

We end the conference with SPED teacher commenting that my son is a sensitive kid, a young kid and that it’s scary for parents to trust teachers with their kids especially when they transition into High School. Sort of excusing my assertiveness (perceived aggressiveness?). I tell them, quite honestly, that I AM protective . I WILL BE the squeaky wheel. I tell them that I know that DS needs SOMETHING but that I don’t always know WHAT that is and that is frustrating.

Then SPED case manager tells a story about DS’s sensitivity that gets me crying and I can’t stop so that probably reinforces the idea that I’m just an unstable, overprotective blowhard.

I don’t tell them that I resent the hell out of that teacher trying to tell me that advocating for my son is a bad thing, will create resentment and an unfair advantage, cause him to resent me and some sort of unknown retaliation. I really wonder if she CAN teach him objectively. The stupid BITCH.

And now I feel like a total failure. I’m second guessing myself. My inclination is to bash myself and let shame beat me up. My addict self would love to use this as a lethal weapon but I wont allow it. This is so damn hard…when you get kicked for doing the right thing. This fucking sucks.

Oh, the Squeaky Wheel label? As far as I can tell, it is because of 4 emails regarding concerns about her class. All due to her not reading or following his IEP I assume this because she did not know about the modifications, and he is getting a D- to an F in her class and this concerns me. Silly me, I should just shut the hell up and let her teach.

small victory

mielikkisrealm — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 08:31:46 +0000

Man, I was hit out of the blue with an ancient memory accompanied by a deluge of shame tonight. Shame that weighs you down and makes you want to hide and want to just die.

I chose to rise above that memory and reject that shame. I had to really think about how to chose not to live in that shame. How do I reject this shame and rise above it? I was able to do it. I don’t know how, but I was able to do it.

I’m not going to go into that memory now. I’m going to keep it in the past. Part of what keeps me down, keeps me trapped in my house, afraid of living is living in the past.

I chose to rise above. I chose life over death. This is huge.

crabby

mielikkisrealm — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 07:02:13 +0000

The psychologist seemed nice enough. Didn’t finish going through my history, therapy goals and such, though. Telling my DBT/therapy tale brought back a lot of shame. Today was a bad day. I was very moody, short tempered. Couldn’t think of a skill to use, didn’t want to use any damn skill.

I’m freaking out about filing a complaint against old therapist. I’m afraid that I’ll get in trouble. Stupid, I know. But I’m afraid. For some reason I’ve come to associate him with all the bad authority figures in my life and I’m afraid that he’s going to hurt me, even though the rational part of me knows that it makes no sense, a bigger part of me is a frightened child. I don’t think that complaint will get filed.

I’m trying to shake that off and look forward. Next session with the new psych will be about therapy goals. I need to come up with those, what’s realistic for me. I need to keep pushing myself to move forward, no matter how small the steps may be I have to move forward. And I did make progress today, even though I was crabby. I can still move forward when I’m crabby, and crabbiness didn’t have to define my whole day.

baby steps

mielikkisrealm — Tue, 01 Sep 2009 05:12:55 +0000

I’m seeing a new psychologist tomorrow.

I’m still a bit labile, I hope I don’t cry. I hope I can keep the mindset that I’m hiring her to help me. Emphasis on the HIRING part. I’ve been perceiving my therapists as authority figures and that’s not healthy.

In thinking about what my expectations of therapy are, I’ve been wondering if my expectations have been very realistic. I am in my forties. I’ve been very isolated. I could probably be diagnosed as agoraphobic. ( I haven’t been formally diagnosed as such). I am easily overwhelmed. I have little to no outside support.

What changes can I realistically make? I tend to look at the finish line and panic. By that I mean, envision myself in a steady job, competently earning a nice income and navigating my way in the real world with ease. This is something that I want, this is something that I don’t have the tools to actually make happen at this time and it scares the hell out of me.

So I’m wondering what is realistic? How many people my age, who have isolated themselves for so many years have been able to crawl out of that hell? Who have no support or friendships because of that isolation?

But I’m trying so hard not to get bogged down by my past. I’ve been trying so damn hard not to let that stop me from trying anyway. I have to start where I am, no matter what my circumstances are. I am here. I can’t change that.

I’ve been thinking about college. I can’t afford classes right now. Our public library system has an online learning center with free courses in math, business English, adult job skills refresher courses among many other resources. So I’ve been looking them over and sticking my toe in and testing out the waters, seeing how much I’ve forgotten over the years. I never went to college.

I read something on a forum, someone mentioned that they had once been very obsessed with themselves, and once they had made the decision to stop being so self obsessed, life became so much easier. That really hit home. Hard to hear, but oh, so true. So I’ve been trying to stop being so damn self obsessed, and I’ve been trying to stop dwelling on the obstacles in my way. They just tend to bog me down and stop me in my tracks.

All of this scares the hell out of me.

I get knocked down, but I get up again…

mielikkisrealm — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 06:51:31 +0000

I need to care for myself better than I have been. We had to put our 17 year old dog to sleep last Saturday. I haven’t allowed myself to grieve because I’ve wanted to be strong for my family. Due to the economy my husbands job has taken a hit and we are not doing well financially. I had to part with my guitar, hopefully temporarily, but I don’t know if that will be the case. My guitar has been my faithful companion since I was a young girl. It’s been my outlet. I have put on the mask of indifference but in reality I’m ashamed that it’s come to this.

One common thread in my spiritual quest has been Buddhist meditation, strangely enough. The treatment center that I went to used mindfulness as part of their tools of recovery and mindfulness is a core part of DBT skills.

I have been doing a lot of thinking about choices and paths and such. I feel sort of like a modern Hecate at the crossroads, but I’m no goddess, I’m just a crone stuck between a rock and a hard place. Anyway, I chose to start climbing out of that hard place in the midst of the shame and yuck. I chose to use the Buddhist Metta meditation.

My understanding of the Metta meditation is rusty, and probably very simple at best. Here is what I understand it to be. It is the loving-kindness meditation. First, we are to direct loving-kindness toward ourselves. Loving-kindness is defined as the sort of love that a mother would feel towards a newborn baby.

So I close my eyes, take a few deep breaths; I follow my breath in and out. I breath in and silently say:

May I be filled with loving-kindness.

I breath in and out and I imagine what it would be like to feel loving-kindness toward myself.

This is very difficult for me. I am used to hating myself. Loving myself actually hurts. But if I am to live, I have to do this.

I follow my breath for a few breaths.

The next step in the meditation goes like this: May I be well. This refers to physical health. I silently repeat this, and imagine what this would be like as I watch the breath.

May I be well.

May I be at peace and at ease of well being. This refers to emotional health and day to day living, for example, may all your traffic lights be green, may you enter the short check out lanes at the grocery store, etc.

May I be at peace and have ease of well being.

May I be happy. This seems so simple, doesn’t it. But for me it’s one of the hardest to fulfill. It’s a wish. I breath,

May I be happy.

Once we’re done going through this with ourselves, we are to direct the meditation toward someone we love, then someone we are familiar with, then maybe someone we don’t really know but interact with like the checkout clerk at the store. Then perhaps someone we dislike, going outward from there until we are able to do the meditation for the whole universe.

The Metta meditation is more complex than this, but this is a good beginning point to practice. Beliefnet has a good audio meditation with Sharon Salzburg that is very good.

Mindfulness has been proven to be healing and beneficial in so many ways. I need to do this regularly. Why is it so easy to be addicted to harmful crap, like alcohol, or drugs but not meditation??

mielikkisrealm — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 07:08:21 +0000

Battling my demons tonight. I’ve been battling these demons for awhile actually, but tonight it’s been hard. That ever present inner critic beating me down.

I begin to think that I can rise above all this, go to school and learn some skills so I can get a job and that damn inner critic starts in: you’re pathetic, a loser, stupid, ugly, inept, worthless…

and I can feel the physical weight of these accusations. I can’t fight them off anymore.

I ruminate about my recent doctor appointment, feeling shame because the doctor must see me for who I really am, shit the whole world must look at me and see what a worthless piece of junk I am.

I can’t fight these thoughts off tonight.

butterflies

mielikkisrealm — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 06:44:49 +0000

We went to the zoo today. I specifically wanted to see the butterfly exhibit. The weather was beautiful, sunny, mid-70’s. A little crowded, though. I did ok with the crowd.

It was beautiful. There were many, many different kinds of butterflies fluttering around, and it was planted with many different flowering plants. Soft, instrumental music was piped in to add to the atmosphere.

I became overwhelmed with emotion and I started to cry. I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from all out sobbing. I have no idea why I had this reaction. I was so embarrassed. My two sons were with me and heard me sniffling, asked me if I had allergies. I just nodded my head and turned away and tried to get a grip. I don’t understand what’s wrong with me.