Fairy

Fairy. I have always identified with this word. Or elf. Or changeling. The mythology of fairies taking human children and replacing them with one of their own, a changeling, has always spoken to me. It is a common early explanation of autism in the centuries prior to Leo Kanner and Hans Asperger. Obviously, I don’t agree with this, but I do understand it.

When Elena, one of my most spiritual alters, first emerged, she didn’t see herself as entirely human. She was the first to claim a fairy, elf or changeling identity. ChangelingGirl is one of my most commonly-used nicknames on bulletin boards.

I still like the idea that I have some spiritual aspect to myself. I don’t fully believe in Indigo children or the like. Besides, the theory of Indigo children is rooted in racism, usually favoring White children over those of color. However, somehow, there is some appeal to it. I do believe everyone has some spiritual aspect to them though.

When the body was a teen and Elena was most prominent, we had these weird superstitious rituals. We would’ve been open to pendulums and the like if we’d known about them at the time. More recently, when we did know about alternative stuff like this, I’ve tried to explore the tarot. I have several tarot apps on my phone. Of course, they’re marketed as for entertainment only. I like to use them to inspire my self-reflection. I don’t care that there’s no scientific proof.

This stream-of-consciousness piece was inspired by today’s word of the day challenge.

Determined

I want to write so bad, but my shoulder is still hurting. Not as badly as it was, but there’s some kind of bulge on it that keeps acting up whenever I lift my arm up even slightly, as I do for typing. I am determined to beat this stupid thing though.

Determined. That’s Fandango’s word for FOWC today. I rarely participate in these one-word challenges, although I’m subscribed to most blogs that offer them, including Fandango’s. However, today’s word struck a chord.

I told my named support worker at day activities about my crisis of 2007. I realize I’ve never shared my life story on here yet, so some readers will not know what I’m talking about. Let me explain. In 2007, I was living independently and going to university. I had been forced to go that route after essentially being kicked out of an independence training home that I had attended because I’m blind. I had been diagnosed with autism just a few months prior. Neither autism nor blindness alone should keep someone from living independently and going to university, but the combination did cause me a lot of trouble. Within three months, I was in a suicidal crisis. I had to be admitted to the psych ward. Not because I wanted to per se, but because that was what I needed at that point.

Fast forward 9 1/2 years and I was kicked out of the psych unit again. Yes, I stayed in a psychiatric hospital for 9 1/2 years. Not because I wanted to, but because no other place wanted me. Those for people with just autism, couldn’t deal with my blindness and vice versa. There are places for people who are blind with multiple disabilities, but most of the clients going there have some type of intellectual disability. That was obviously not where I belong. Or was it?

I’ve now been living independently with my husband since May of 2017. Despite lots of support, it’s a struggle. I am surviving, but I’m barely living.

So I decided to apply for long-term care. Which had originally been determined to be best for me by the psychiatrist who admitted me to hospital in 2007. I am determineed that, if we stop looking at just my labels and start looking at me, we’ll find someplace for me.

Then again, is this determination? Am I not essentially underachieving if I admit I need 24-hour care? Or am I actually determined to follow my own path to happiness and the best possible quality of life?