Sleep? So over-rated, Dahlink!

Well, yet again the sun has made it over the hoirzon and I have been awake to see it.

It was nice, don't misunderstand me and I always feel mildly relieved that it has actually put the effort in to appear, but we are fast becoming best friends which is not something that I had intended. I don't mind waking up with the sun....sleeping in bed and having the sun play on the wall and the duvet or something....but this way it looks like I'm waiting for it.....like a parent waiting for an errant child to return home from a night out...."and what time do you call this? I've been waiting up all night for you! The Moon and I were getting worried, you could have called"....you get the idea.

The reason for this new and exciting relationship with the sun is my new-found insomnia. Another new best friend that I didn't realise I had room for in my life. It's true what they say....you can never have too many friends, but not all of them are the right kind of friends. Insomnia for a start is not good for me, we stay up all night and party, but it's all so one-sided, if we don't do it the insomniac way then we don't do it at all. I want to sleep, I need to sleep but I am nagged into wakefulness by insomnia whispering in my ear and sending random thoughts round and round in my head until beautiful, wonderful sleep evades me. Again.

So, while I wander round the house nattering on the phone to fellow sleep-pattern-disturbed individuals I set myself to wondering how long I can continue to function in my current condition. I am seriously sleep-deprived.  What is the first thing to be affected? Does my body try to compensate for the much needed sleep in some other way? Am I dangerous?

To be honest, the first thing I notice is that, oddly, I am hyper-active am I running on adrenaline? Well, I can't be...I take adrenaline-suppressing drugs as I react adversely to my own adrenaline. It's bit like being drunk, only alcohol-free.A cheap date, you might say! I have a tendency to ramble incoherently, although people who know me well, tell me I do that anyway, so maybe I am just more aware of it now. My nicotine intake has dramatically increased, maybe because there are more hours in my day or maybe because I am using it to keep on going.

But, by far the strangest thing for me, is that I am much less "stressy", I don't snap at Daisy and the cat over daft little things and I hear myself being much more tolerant of things I would usually get all over-heated about.
Daisy tells me that she likes this relaxed Mummy, I'm more fun and she can get away with stuff that a well-slept me would revolt over.

So it seems that I will continue, albeit unwillingly, with my programme of some weird kind of top secret military training where guys have been awake since the Second World War and spend a lot of time out-staring farmyard livestock. It seems to be good for me  and therefore Daisy too, although in a bad way!


 

It happened; it passed; move on!

I am feeling retrospective today.
I think it's always a good idea to at least glance over the shoulder and see what happened in the last 7 days and glean the good stuff out of it and get rid of the rubbish.

Firstly, I am amazed that I am still actually here. A three-day Autistic melt-down is not something I ever expected to experience and, although it probably goes without saying, never want to experience again. But, it isn't all about me, is it? I was on the receiving end, but what about Daisy? I find it very difficult to try and spend time inside her head, although I do try, but to feel so anxious and scared and frustrated and angry for three whole days? I mean, how does that even happen? I know what the trigger was, but I find it impossible to understand why it triggered in the first place. I cannot dwell on the "Three Days Of Hell", it happened, it has passed and somehow we came out the other side.
I cannot analyse or discuss it with Daisy as she cannot remember very much of those three days so we live by the Golden Rule that "it happened; it passed; move on".

I am suffering the wrath of an ex-partner.....I have been reported to Social Services, I am being sued and various internet allegations made against me are being investigated by the proper authorities. I have sought legal advice and know my position up on the battlements. Battlements are better than cannon fodder, right? So, to my bitter ex-partner I would strongly advise you follow the Golden Rule "it happened; it passed; move on".

My retrospection has also made me realise something about myself that I really didn't know before. I am made of stronger stuff than I knew. I am not cowed by autism, I am not beaten and broken by craven, cowardly people who attack me from a distance. I am still standing and stronger than ever. What is even better is that I am not alone. I have the love and support of my "Amazing People". For the first time in my life I realise that there is strength in support. I always viewed turning to others for help as a weakness. A sign of defeat; of being incapable or unable to cope. That I would be seen as a lesser person, somehow feeling that I was only living up to others expectations. But, that isn't so. I now realise that love and support is a two-way street, that I can give it AND receive it in equal measures.

So...without our 3 day meltdown, I would never have learned this about me. Were I to have a child that isn't autistic I would not have grown as a person. So, once again I find myself at the Autism Altar, giving thanks and lighting a candle for my amazing, incredible beautiful Daisy.

A Brief Encounter!

Well...the Social worker came....

.....and then he left again!

I confess to feeling a wee gloat approaching as I happily played my "ace".

My "ace" is a collection of till receipts all dated Tuesday 24 August 2010, which is when the anonymous caller made the call.

I had, the previous day, received a text message from my Prime Suspect informing me that they would contact Social Services should I not return to them a certain item of property that they already had. Tricky one, that! I can't return something that I have already returned. I'm good...but that even defeats me!

So, Tuesday arrives...the call is made....disturbing screaming and shouting coming from my house.

Well....I was 215 miles away at the time the call was made. My till receipts prove this. Maybe the cat had some mates round? The toys were having a party? You know how excitable Barbie can be when she gets going! Whatever...it sure wasn't us!

So.....I play my ace, and although people have to be spoken to...the dentist and her paed for example, you could see that his heart wasn't in it. Especially when I showed him the text message. I keep everything, me. Just in case. Can't be too careful I always find. So that's it. All that unease...all that fear and emotion-wrestling for nothing. As I knew it would be.

I could no more hurt Daisy than I could fly to the moon with just a swan feather shoved up my ar......well, you see where I'm going with this!

All back the way it should be.


I feel sorry for the person who tried to hurt us. Alone, I am strong, but when I have to stand up for my Daisy I am bolstered by the love of a mother for her child, and that will never be weakened. Not by a spurious false allegation not even by death itself. You don't stand a chance against me Anonymous Caller....attack me all you like...well, you have already haven't you?....but don't ever, ever try and get between me and my Daisy because you will always fail.

An interesting encounter?

I received, just the other day, a note through my door.

A hand-written note with a short message and a phone number that will have an impact on my life for a long time.

No, not a marriage proposal from a shy secret admirer....nor a mystery benefactor offering me help and advice.

No......it is a note from Social Services. They have received an anonymous report suggesting that in some way my Daisy is being harmed. By me.

The emotions I went through are too varied to mention. Fear, anger, shock, surprise and finally realisation. I KNOW who carried out this craven act, can't prove it, but that doesn't matter. I know.

So now, thanks to them, I have to prove myself to be a good parent to my child. My beautiful Daisy whom I love and cherish above everything else. I couldn't hurt her if I HAD to....never mind anything else.


I do, however have an ace up my sleeve that may well flatten this allegation and send it to the bin where it deserves to be. Clearly, I cannot mention it here, but it gets me thinking.....why should I have to justify my life with my own child just because some coward chooses to make my life difficult. They hide behind the "anonymous caller" shield and yet I, the innocent party, am left in the full glare of the spotlight. The suspicion, the questions, the blame all gets piled up at my door and the malicious person gets away with it. Is that fair? I appreciate that child welfare is paramount, but an unfounded allegation can cause such heart-ache and feelings of betrayal and where is the recompense? I don't mean financially but emotionally. The strain on me over the last 24 hours has been extra-ordinary. I am innocent and not only know it, but can prove it. Yet, the spectre of a social worker visiting my house and checking me out has caused me to not even bother to try to sleep as I know I won't be able to. The stigma of a social worker is hard to take. Social workers walk in and take over and make excessive demands and you must be a rubbish parent if you have one.

But that is not true in every case. There are over-zealous ones and really incompetent ones...just like every other profession. There are also ones who are considerate and thoughtful and actually damn good at their job.

So I will bite back the distaste and the associated stigma and meet this guy on MY terms. I invited him to my house and I will treat him with the respect that a person doing a difficult job deserves. He is, after all, only doing what is right and fair and just. He has yet to meet the amazing Daisy and read her diagnosis and see her in action.

So, if a cowardly act brings another good, decent and honest person to my door,one; who actually may be able to help me with Daisy's socialisation skills, then I thank you for your craven act as you have actually done me a huge favour. Oh, I know who you are and I know that this is just another spiteful act towards me, but you have underestimated me.

Paying Tribute to Amazing People.

After the emotion-sapping last couple of days, I would like to pay tribute to some very special people.

No, not the professional people who haven't a clue most of the time how to deal with us, but the people I spend a lot of time with....My fellow FaceBookers and more importantly my fellow MouseHunters. Yes...you know who you are!

This will probably sound certifiable to anyone reading this who doesn't ever use FaceBook, but I can honestly say that without some people, I would most certainly have not been able to stand up this morning and have the bravery to face another day.

Most of the people on the list below I have not yet met. I would like to ammend that someday. But for now I am grateful that as soon as I hit the "enter" button I know that there will be a reply or a comment and I know that I am not alone.

So, for various reasons beit because you make me laugh, find me funny, have an inkling what it is like to be me, support me with kind words or just talk to me about MouseHunt in the wee small English hours I would like to say the World's Biggest Thank You. Were it not for you....my life would be darker and colder and a whole heap less fun. And have a lot less mice in it!

First names only (to protect the guilty!):

John W H....MaryKate...Phil...Kathy C...Subie...Ladyship...Lozzie...Melissa Q...Melissa M...Elizabeth...Richard...Donna...Ruth P...Andy...and the 2 Marks!

This is for you....please share nicely as it is the only one!

This is Hell....

I am in Hell.


.....Well, my own personal Hell at any rate.
I always thought that Hell would be, oh I don't know....other people's holiday snaps of Brentford or their childs' first smile, which I admit is cute for the first 9 times but is wearing after 85 oh-so-similar-snaps.


Well...I stand corrected. My own personal Hell is my 8 year-olds autism.
The kind of Hell that makes me ROAR at her because she is hitting and hurting and pushing me...the kind of Hell that makes me feel so utterly helpless in the face of an autistic rage....the kind of Hell that finds me wanting to get utterly drunk and return to bad and painful habits that I thought I was recovered from....the kind of Hell that makes me want to curl up under the duvet and never return....the kind of Hell when I look into my beautiful daughters' face and see nothing but pure hatred....the kind of Hell, the WORST kind of Hell, where I can see the one person I love most in the entire world is suffering and I cannot find the right thing to do.

I am not a Godly person....although I admire others' faith, I cannot subscribe to it. I am envious of it, but realise that I am not the kind of person who can believe in an ethereal being who may just be a figment of some fevered imagination.  I need hard proof.

I do not believe for one moment that I was "blessed" by God. I wasn't "chosen" to be Daisy's mother because I am in some vague and smoke-and-mirrors-way the best person for the job. I am Daisy's mother because I gave birth to her. I remember it well! I wasn't picked from billions of people to be the best she can have....I was randomly selected by genetics and given this amazing, crazy beautiful person to look after to the best of my ability.

I currently feel a complete and utter failure. I cannot give her the things she needs, because I don't know what they are.....I cannot even help prevent the meltdowns as I can no longer predict them. She attacked my 75 year old mother yesterday, because I turned off the TV. I have turned off the TV a gazillion times, but this once she goes into full-scale meltdown. She has also attacked me while I was driving the car which was really quite scary....probably don't need to add that bit!

If only I could get her to not be physically abusive.....I can bear being called horrible names, I don't care if the house is trashed, it's all material stuff that means little or nothing at the end of the day, but being bitten and scratched until you bruise and bleed HURTS! I know that it's purely a reactive action to my preventing her from some action or another, but it hurts.....more mentally than physically although it's enough to make me cry with pain.

I am, of course, trying to get help from the "right" people....I have an "emergency" appointment in, erm, 2 weeks with CAMHS but have already been advised by the referring GP that they won't be of much help to us. If not CAMHS - the people "trained" to help me -  then who? I am terrified that this is my life now. My whole life and very being orbiting the planet Autism...drawn in unable to leave. Ever. Stuck there, going round in circles until one of us dies.


I am not being selfish.....I don't want anything other than a little piece of OUR lives that can't be labelled as Hell.

Right now.....we don't have that, and I simply don't know how to make it happen.