31 Days of Prompted Ponderings Landing Page

Okay, so I’ve not written nearly as much over the past few weeks as I’d wanted to. For this reason, I’m not sure whether the challenge I’m embarking on will be a success. Last year, I joined #Write31Days but didn’t finish. The challenge was discontinued this year, but Kate Motaung has done achallenge-within-the-challenge for years of doing 31 days od five-minute freewrites. I won’t do those, as sticking to five minutes once I’ve started writing is too hard. However, I will use the daily prompt words to hopefully inspire me to write everyday in October.

This is the landing page or table of contents for the challenge. In previous years, keeping my landing page updated was as much of a challenge as writing everyday, so we’ll see how this goes.

Anyway, I won’t have a theme for my challenge. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to use the prompts as main focus of my posts, but we’ll see. Enjoy!

#WeekendCoffeeShare (September 29, 2019)

Hi everyone, how are you doing? I have had a for me incredible amount of coffee for a Sunday today, so am feeling pretty energized despite it being nearly 9PM here. This evening though, I chose two cups of green tea and two apple and peach flavored soft drinks. Anyway, I’m joining in with #WeekendCoffeeShare again.

If we were having coffee (or green tea or a soft drink), I’d share that my transition into the care facility went relatively smoothly. I moved in on Monday. I do miss my husband, obviously, but am mostly enjoying my time being here. I feel, overall, a lot more relaxed than I did when still living semi-independently.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that the house-buying process was finalized last Wednesday. As I said in my previous post, the paperwork was somewhat stressful as I couldn’t read or sign the agreements due to being blind. That got sorted though thanks to a very accommodating solicitor.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that my husband has been very busy doing odd jobs in the new house. I muted the house-related WhatsApp group because, not being there, I couldn’t conceptualize what all was being done. However, I guess in a few weeks, I’ll like it in the new house. I saw it for the first time on Wednesday before we saw the solicitor and it’s larger than I expected.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that I’m excited for my husband to come over here on Thursday. He originally said he’d come by either MOnday or Friday, so since I hadn’t heard a thing yet, I assumed he was coming on Friday. Today he said though that, after the final inspection and handing in the keys to our old house, he’d travel my way. He said we could have lunch at an Australian restaurant that’s in a nearby town.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that I am totally in love with all the sensory equipment at both the day center and the care home. At the day center, there’s a snoezelen® room. I spent some time on Thursday lying next to the bubble unit and on Friday lying on the waterbed. At the home, there’s a room with a rocking lounger. The staff also retrieved a kind of teeter board from another client’s room. That client has a swinging chair that’s hers but I was allowed to sit in it in her room for a bit.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that the care facility food is pretty good. I got mashed potatoes twice this week, which is one of only a few things I truly can’t stand, but they were able to swap my meal with someone else who didn’t mind mashed potatoes. My husband would say I’m a pretty picky eater, as I also had instant noodles one day when we actually got spaghetti carbonara. I think I can make myself eat that though and I won’t put it on my dislike list unless it’s very easy to do so.

If we were having coffee, lastly I’d share that I did have a relatively good amount of physical activity this past week. I don’t have my elliptical yet, as my husband will be delivering it on Thursday, but I did go for some walks. I don’t use my Fitbit right now, as I can’t find its charger and I don’t want to be discouraged by it, but I do feel pretty good about my activity level. I am eating pretty well. Now I guess I do still get too many calories for the amount of exercise I get, but I will hopefully soon find ways around that. At least I haven’t really craved binge food much. Finally, I also made time to do mindfulness meditations most days.

How was your week?

First Few Days in the Care Facility

So I haven’t written in nearly a week. I wanted to, but on Monday, was still adjusting to being in the care facility. On Tuesday, I felt really off. Then yesterday my husband and I traveled to our new house, the house we bought, and to the solicitor to sign the paperwork. That was somewhat of a hassle, as I cannot make a signature that looks remotely like the one on my passport. So for this reason, the solicitor had two coworkers sign in my place. Thankfully though, the thing is now finalized and we’re officially homeowners!

My adjustment to living in the care facility has been harder than I imagined. On Monday, I did pretty well. Tuesday I started day activities. It was a good day weather-wise, so I was able to enjoy some time outside.

Then tuesday night I suddenly was overcome with shame about my care needs. It all makes me so confused, since if I truly function emotionally at a 16-month-old level, I probbably shouldn’t be able to feel shame. And yet I do. My father’s voice is in my mind like all the freakin’ time. So is my former psychologist’s.

Yesterday, my husband came to pick me up for the official stuff at 11AM. We returned to the care facility at around 6:30. I did okay other than obviously missing my husband. I rationalized that away though. He told me he was a little disappointed in how far the journey is from our new house to here. There will no doubt be a solution, for example me traveling to our house by train and ParaTransit taxi. Still, the conversation did upset me.

I’m constantly facing this bit of cognitive dissonance between the parts of me that are severely disabled and truly function at a young child’s level and the parts that can be married and have a normal life. I can’t and don’t want to disown either, but it’s a huge challenge finding the middle ground.

Besides, even if I wanted to, I can’t go back to my life before moving here. The old day center has a pretty long waiting list and they’ve most likely filled up my place by now. I don’t have a room to myself in the new house. I can’t go back to community support funding from long-term care. Now of course if I truly could disown the severely disabled parts of myself, I might’ve been able to find a solution to at least the last of these problems. Long-term care funding is available to those who live at home too, after all. Maybe I just need to admit that I’m too darn selfish to actually choose my husband over proper care.

Saying Goodbye at Day Activities Again

I contemplated for a bit what to title this post. Seriously, I don’t hope next year will see yet another goodbye from day activities. I really hope I will be able to stay at the day center in Raalte much longer than I did at the one I left last year and this one. I know, I didn’t have to leave this center because the team or management no longer wanted me. I’m so glad I left knowing that the reason was mostly down to my own choice and circumstances.

So today I had my leave-taking party at day activities. First, we had French fries with a snack for lunch. I loved them. Most times I’ve gotten a choice of snacks, it was just between the two most commonly-eaten Dutch snacks. I told the staff I wanted a type of spicy snack called “mexicano” and suggested another client, who is non-verbal but about whom we know that she likes spicy food, might like it too. She definitely enjoyed it.

Then when having coffee break in the afternoon, I presented my group with “stroopwafels”, a type of Dutch caramel-filled waffle. I also gave each of the staff a small handmade soap. The staff gave me a large stuffed panda bear.

Then some clients and staff from other groups visited to say goodbye. I got a lovely huge card, the size of a small painting you can hang on the wall, from another group. It had a greeting in wooden tactile letters stuck on it. I also got chocolates. Another group gave me a card and two huge chocolate bars. Now my attempt at losing weight when I go to the care facility will have to be postponed a little

I do not know whether the clients on my own group will notice I’m gone. I guess they will, but most probably don’t have the words to ask about me. People from other groups have definitely been asking about me leaving for a while now and some say they’ll miss me. I will for sure miss them too.

💞 Happy Eighth Wedding Anniversary to My Husband and Me 💞

Today is September 19. Eight years ago today, my husband and I said our wedding vows. Twelve years ago today we first met at the bus stop nearest to the university that I could get to without transferring. That first meeting was awkward. I didn’t have good mobility skills, but of course it wouldn’t have been appropriate for me to use this boy I barely knew online as a sighted guide. As a result, I fell off a few steps and dropped my coffee.

My now husband said later that, after this first meeting, he wasn’t sure whether to ask to meet me again, but intuition told him that if he did, a lot more would follow. And it did.

Today, my husband had to work a long day as a truck driver. He originally had this week off, but changed that so that he could help me move to the care facility on Monday and make the move to our new house. He told me in advance not to be mad if he’d not be home by seven. As it turned out, he was home a little before eight. He also got tomorrow off unexpectedly, so our not being able to celebrate our wedding anniversary today is more than made up for soon.

Someone said in a comment on my previous post that my husband is lucky to have me, because at least I consider choosing him above self-care. I must say, I don’t see it that way, but I definitely feel I am lucky to have my husband. I mean, how many people would walk out on their significant others the day they were in a mental crisis? That’s not a fluffy, socially acceptable thing to do, but it’s reality. My staff at the psychiatric hospital had never seen a patient getting married while on their ward before.

The fact that my husband supports me through my decision to go into long-term care, also proves that I”m lucky to have him.

These eight years married and these twelve years knowing each other, have been very different from the traditional couple’s first so many years, but they’ve definitely been worth it at least for me. Without my husband, I don’t know that I’d even still be alive today. Here’s hoping for a lot more years of a happy marriage.

Freewrite on My Transition Into Long-Term Care

Yikes, in less then a week, I’ll be in the care facility in Raalte. It’s exciting, but of course it is also scary. I have been planning on writing more about the transition. In fact, I have Mari L. McCarthy’s 22-day transitions journaling course. I had it already before I moved in with my husband, but never quite used it then. I’m not sure I’ll use every prompt this time either. The day 1 prompt is to freewrite on your hopes and fears and such re the transition. Here goes.

I’m really excited to go into long-term care. I’ve been looking forward to it for almost a year. However, now that it comes close, I’m second guessing myself.

I mean, am I not happy with the situation as it is now? The honest answer is “No”, but does that relate to the situation or to me? As a fellow patient on the locked ward once said, you take you everywhere. As such, I need to be really clear that I’m not just depressed because I suffer with a mental illness. I need to separate what is my depression that just is from what is my unhappiness with living semi-independently.

Besides, am I truly unhappy? My husband said this time in my life was perhaps the happiest for me, judging by his observation, since he first met me in 2007. Then I must counter it’s perhaps the least unhappy time period in my life.

I really hope I’ll be able to have a happier life living in long-term care. I know I often feel very depressed when alone and that’s not a time my husband sees me. The times I have no-one to rely on, will most likely lessen a lot, but having my own room means I’ll still be able to have alone time.

I fear, however, that I’ll be understimulated in long-term care. One of the things the behavior specialist from the blindness agency wrote in her report on me from observing me at day activities, is that the activities are not challenging. I do simple puzzles, construction play and such. If that’s all I’ll be required to do at my new day activities, I’m sure I’ll get bored. Part of me says that we’ll find a way to deal with this and that I need to be content to get the care I need. Another part says that I shouldn’t stop desiring stimulating activities just because I am in long-term care.

I also fear that going into long-term care will be a slippery slope. My father’s voice is in my mind, saying I manipulate the world into giving me care. If he is right, going into long-term care will just make me lose skills, become more dependent and ultimately need a lot of one-on-one support. It may lead to backlash from the care facility, causing me to get kicked out again.

I will, of course, also be missing my husband. I can deal with it, but it’s sad. I’m scared that he’ll grow tired of visiting me every week because of the long drive (nearly 90 minutes one way). I don’t want to lose my husband. I said, when originally falling apart in 2018, that I would choose him over long-term care if I had to. I don’t really need to choose, as we’ll still be seeing each other, but what if I do? Will it be too late to choose him? I hope not.

Confessions of a New Mummy

#WeekendCoffeeShare (September 15, 2019)

Hi everyone, how are you? Let’s catch up over a cup of coffee or once again green tea in my case. I’m joining in with #WeekendCoffeeShare.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that this week was full of ups and some downs, though the downs weren’t as low as I’d expected. As regular readers of this blog know, I will be moving to the care facility in Raalte in eight days. My staff, my husband and I have been doing some preparation in regards to my leaving my current day activities and going to start up in Raalte.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that I finally told my mother I’ll be going to the care facility. I sugarcoated it a little, saying I’d be staying at my care agency in Raalte during the week and going home to my husband on week-ends. As a result, at first she wasn’t sure I’d be actually sleeping at the care facility. After a little “but I thought you were doing so well” and all, she wished me good luck at the place.

I am not 100% sure how to feel about it. In a way, this seemingly supportive attitude contradicts my memories from years before and that is hard to adapt to. However, I’m trying to be gratefulfor her support. I haven’t talked to my father or sister about it yet.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that my sister gave birth to a baby girl, Janneke Sietske, last Tuesday. She is named Janneke after my sister’s and my grandma who died last year and Sietske after one of my brother-in-law’s grandmothers. Janneke had some health issues early on and we haven’t been able to visit yet. We’re planning on visiting her next week though.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that today, my husband and I made some small banana soaps for the staff at day activities. I’ll give them to them on Friday, when I have my leave-taking party.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that my last appoitnment with my nurse practitioner went okay. He has referred me to the mental health agency in Raalte. I haven’t seen the referral letter, but he said he’d written about my trauma but that, for now, here and now work is most appropriate for me. I did try to get it through that ultimately, I do want to process my trauma. I’m not sure that will happen, as most likely I can’t get trauma therapy without at least a C-PTSD diagnosis if not DID/OSDD. Precisely getting my trauma-related issues assessed is a huge trigger for me.

If we were having coffee, lastly I’d share that I finally finished The Fault in Our Stars, which I started reading already three weeks ago. I will hopefully be able to finish at least one more book before the end of the month.

What’s been up with you lately?

Blue to the Blind #SoCS

Today’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday (#SoCS) is “blue”. The idea is to write about the firsst blue object you see when sitting down to write your post. Well, I am blind, so I don’t see anything blue as I sit here to write. I could be writing about things I know to be blue. The sky is blue. The ocean is blue. Or at least, they’re both seen as blue due to the sun’s reflection on them, or something.

I could be writing about my sensory cat, the soft toy I got for my 31st birthday from my sister. I think the cat is blue. It is filled with lavender, which I know is kind of blue too.

How would I describe blue to a person who’s never seen it? I can, at least, having had color perception as a child, still imagine blue in my mind’s eye. Someone born totally blind can’t. I once wrote a post describing the color green to blind people on my old blog. This was a journaling prompt, just so you know that no actual blind person asked me to describe the color green. Which, I should say, I really can’t.

I mean, synesthesia may be able to help. Blue is a “cool” color. It is the color of the number three in my synesthetic perception. Then again, even with synesthesia, everyone’s perception is different, so that wouldn’t make sense.

Interestingly, there are no blue letters in the word “blue” and the overarching color in the word is orange for the letter B.

I wonder now, does my synesthesia always make words look like the color associated with their first letter. I’m not sure, but the word “green”, even though the two E’s are green, isn’t really green overall. It’s more red with a touch of green. The G is red.

Mondays are green too, even though the word “Monday” has no green letters in it. Fridays are blue and yet again, there’s no blue letters in the word. Isn’t that fascinating?

At Every Age

There’s so much I want to write about, but I can’t get myself to sit down and actually write. Well, sitting down is not the problem, as I’m probably still a pretty sedentary person, but actually writing is.

Today, I”m joining in with Finish the Sentence Friday (#FtSF). This week, the prompt is to write about your (or your child’s or whoever’s) favorite age.

I used to think being younger was better. I don’t really know why. Maybe I was conscious at an early age of the fact that life is finite, so growing up meant getting closer to death. I also thought that growing up meant an increase in responsibility, which scared me from an early age on. After all, I knew from as young as age nine on that I was supposed to leave the house and go to university by eighteen. That’s a huge burden of awareness to carry as a child that young.

Now I think being at every age has its beauty. I do worry that I’m declining in health already, and this is where the sitting down comes in. I really need to get more active, because I know that at every age, you can do something to improve your health and wellbeing.

I also think that, at every age, you can retain or regain some level of childlike wonder. We see this in the alters, who each represent a particular stage in development. Some are grown-up for their age, like Jace, the 9-year-old who was told about going to university and leaving the house. Others are more childlike, like Milou, who is 8-years-old and very playful. We also have an adult, Marieke, who, though she’s 32, enjoys sensory learning and play.

In my fellow clients at day activities, I also see the beauty in every age. They are intellectually disabled, most with a so-called “mental age” under six. Now the concept of “mental age” is highly ableist. However, learning about normal child development can teach us some interesting things about myself and others with developmental disabilities anyway. I was intrigued to read about emotional development as it pertains to people with mild intellectual disability and as it pertains to me in some way too. The consultant psychologist assigned to my case in my care-finding process, said I function emotionally at a 16-month-old level. This explains a lot of why I act the way I do. Interestingly though, we don’t have an alter who identifies with this age.

In short, I think every age and stage in development has its beautiful sides and its ugly sides. Childhood means your parents still have a lot of control over you, but it means you have relatively few responsibilities. Adolescence and young adulthood come with increased responsibility and freedom. I don’t know yet what middle age or old age will bring, but I’m confident I’ll find the beauty in it.

The Daily Four (September 9, 2019)

I am once again joining in with The Daily Four. I am a day late with this one, as I didn’t discover it till nearly 9PM yesterday, which is my usual bedtime. Here are the questions.

What truly motivates you to write?
My readers, I guess. Before I became a blogger, I had an online diary and even when I still kept my diary on my private computer, I always envisioned someone reading it. I rarely write without an audience in mind. It doesn’t mean I get depressed if my posts don’t get (m)any comments, but I delight in finding that people read my work.

Other than that, I’m motivated by an intrinsic will to write. Even in the times of my personal computer diary, I would be proud if I wrote an entry everyday for a certain amount of time. The longest I’ve gone without skipping a day, is probably like three months.

What’s cluttering up your life today and what are you doing about it?
I don’t really know. I’m not one to be bothered by physical clutter easily, probably because I don’t see it and as such, it doesn’t distract me. However, there may also be this thing like mental clutter, where thoughts clutter up your life. That definitely happens to me and I’m not sure it’s a thing, but I’m making it into one. Worries tend to clutter up my life in this way. So does thinking about what I should be doing instead of doing it.

Did you enjoy a creative childhood?
Yes. I was a writer from an early age on. I also enjoyed drawing when I still had enough sight to do it. My mother was the most encouraging of my artistic creativity, but my father encouraged me to think creatively.

Have you ever wanted to write a book or if you have written a book do you feel accomplished for doing so?

Yes! I wanted to be a children’s book author when I grew up and have quite a few unfinished manuscripts. One of them was pretty far along. It was called The Black Queen and was about a teen girl whose mother had multiple sclerosis. I must admit, my stories were full of plagiarism though and not very imaginative.

I still intend on someday writing my autobiography. However, I’m not sure whether I’ll do it, as it requires quite a huge attention span to sit and write a book.