Failing at Life

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Not sure what I'm doing here...maybe just venting...

My boyfriend, our 3 year old son, and I moved in with my parents a couple months ago after a series of unfortunate events. First I lost my job after one too many meltdowns. My boss kept piling more and more work on me after my son was born, even though I asked for LESS responsibility, and I eventually couldn't keep up anymore and wrote her what I felt was an impassioned plea to cut me some slack, but she called it "another one of your temper tantrums" and I was fired. I worked from home for four years, which was the longest I ever kept a single job, and I was actually able to support myself for once, so I took that loss pretty hard. This was two years ago. Then I was diagnosed with two thyroid disorders, and I put myself into outpatient psychiatric care because I was going through a horrific depression. They treated me like a guinea pig and kept putting me on meds that didn't work. I either had a paradoxical reaction or an allergic one to all of them. I soon started seeing a counselor who was the first one to tell me she thought I might have Aspergers. During this time, we were forced to live with bed bugs for almost a year, and had a redneck bigot of a landlord who felt it necessary to carry a gun when he came to our residence, and he used that gun to threaten us after giving us two weeks to move out when we reported him for not taking care of the bed bug issue. We had to call the police on him. This guy was just awful. He once screamed at me that he didn't want "some crazy autistic" living in his house. We're not even sure how he knew of my diagnosis. At ay rate, my meltdowns were becoming so severe while living there, they were resulting in seizures, and they were happening almost everyday. We HAD to leave.

So basically I lost my job and my home because of my issues, which made me feel horribly guilty. Because our son was in Early Intervention, we tried to stay in the county, but since we couldn't afford another apartment, we moved in with friends out in the country. We thought it was perfect until our hosts told us they were divorcing within our first two weeks there. The woman was also having a psychotic breakdown, she told me she was diagnosed as bipolar and borderline, so we definitely did not feel safe there. They presented a perfect picture to us until after we moved in, and then it all fell apart when they realized we couldn't afford the incredibly high amount of rent they wanted to charge us for the use of a single bedroom we never felt comfortable leaving. Since we sank all our money into getting out of the bug pit and putting what we could save of our belongings into storage, after 3 months of that drama we had no choice but to leave the only town I ever felt comfortable calling home and move in with my parents 180 miles away. No choice mainly because our hosts were so freaked out by the series of meltdowns/seizures I had one day, they kicked us out! So more guilt for me since I basically lost us a second home. Since I am going through what my psychologist called a full blown midlife regression, I thought maybe moving in with family was what I needed, and she agreed. I was cracking under the stress of raising a child, taking care of his needs, and my needs without anyone to offer us any kind of assistance whatsoever. My boyfriend couldn't even find an on the books job that would allow him to accommodate all our son's and my appointments and therapies.

It's hard enough being back under my parents' roof after 17 years, but it's been further complicated by the issues I had begun exploring in therapy. Last winter I started therapy for PTSD from sexual assaults I endured at the hands of boys a couple years older than me when I was 12-14 years old. Since I had to abruptly leave town, it was never complete, and now I find myself being triggered every time we go out and about my hometown. I find myself looking over my shoulder constantly, and my quiet time in the woods of my childhood is often ruined once I realize someone else is in the woods with me. I once passed two teenage boys while biking a path and it sent me into a full blown anxiety attack. At 38, I am still terrified of teenage boys!

To make things worse, my mother doesn't get any of it. She knows of my diagnosis, and claims she's been trying to learn as much as she can about AS, but then she turns around and does everything she shouldn't and gets angry at me when I state my boundaries, and again when I meltdown/shutdown because she won't respect them. In regards to the assaults, she once told me I need to get over it so my son can spend more time with our family, totally ignoring the fact he also has family, his daddy's family, 6 hours away that we had to move further away from. Turns out she was molested as a young girl, but because she was able to "get over it" she doesn't understand why I can't. My IBS has been awful since I've been here. She seems to think my stress is in my head, that I'm "letting" these things get to me because don't I know I'm safe here! The other day, I told her I was approaching meltdown mode, that I was drained, I was out of tokens (google spoon/token theory), and I needed as little stimulation as possible. She responds by bitching to me about my boyfriend. It often feels like she's trying to turn me against him, and she keeps putting me in the middle of their little drama. She was angry because she wanted the attic cleaned NOW, but since he didn't jump when she asked, suddenly that meant he was a lazy bum. He did help, but apparently it wasn't enough. She knows he has a really screwed up back (he was hit by a taxi while riding his back and was never able to get the surgery he needs. Its a miracle he can even walk) and we've both explained this to her, but she conveniently forgets when there's lifting to be done, and then she berates us for not doing as much as she expects. We are living here free of rent, and we try to help as much as we possibly can, but it's never enough and its never done right. Anyway, so she's trying to pull me into this drama, and I snap. I told her I had said enough is enough, why can't she respect that! She responds by telling me I'm unreasonable, she can't talk to me, and she doesn't understand why I'm so angry. -_-

It's been hell living here these past two days. She wrote me a note yesterday morning, which was my son's 3rd birthday, and it was so nasty yet clueless, it ruined the entire day for me. We left the house so HE could enjoy his day, but all the running around took a toll on me and we had no choice but to return home around dinner time. She tried to act like nothing happened. I didn't have the strength to talk things out, or to even write a letter. I just tried to make sure my son got time with my parents on his birthday, especially since my dad was innocent in all this. He's AS as well, but not officially diagnosed. I probably could talk to him, but with all his work stress, I don't want to pile this on top of him as well. He's in his own little world of Doctor Who and cartoons most of the time anyway. He doesn't know about my past trauma, but he does know my mother, so I'm guessing he just tries to stay out of the way. Anyway, just being around her was so exhausting, I couldn't deal with it any longer and made my way to our room where I immediately fell into a shutdown which resulted in mild convulsions and mutism. I couldn't even pull myself together to tuck our son in and read him a story on his birthday. I feel like s**t.

Today I can speak again, but I still can't find my voice with my mother. A part of me wants to get out of here NOW, even if that means signing up for housing assistance and living in some ghetto, but realistically I know I cannot handle independent living right now, even with my boyfriend helping, and we simply don't have the resources to go anywhere else. I feel like I'm losing my mind again, and I have no hope for a better future. Where do we go from here?

This is, of course, a rhetorical question. I guess I did just need to vent. I just wish this awful era would come to an end. Between pregnancy at age 35, followed by a c-section, the diagnosis of two autoimmune thyroid disorders, living with bed bugs for a year (I still can't shake the feeling something is crawling on me at night, even though we definitely left them behind), the PTSD and anxiety, the loss of my career and then two homes, and possibly a third...I don't know how much more I can take!

If I wasn't somebody's mother, I fear I'd just kill myself. Instead I have to find a way to keep on keeping on, but I have no clue how to do that. Everything else I've tried resulted in failure. I do have a local psychologist now, but I've only met her once, so the trust isn't there yet. I feel so lost. My son deserves better. :'(

I read the whole thing, and I'm sorry you're going through so much personal crisis. The good news is that you're with family, and while there's drama, it does sound like there's some amount of stability to be had. With this in place, you can start to rebuild a foundation, slowly but surely. Help your son as best you can while you work on patching yourself up. This world is a tough place, but by sharing our experiences we can come out stronger, or at least a bit more relieved.

Having a psychologist is a great start. Try your best to keep it together. Human beings are tailored to deal with adversity in whatever way they can. Find those moments of happiness amidst all the strife to keep yourself going. Make sure your boyfriend's family throws in some help if they're able to. Keep your spirits up, and don't hesitate to continue using this forum to let yourself vent.

Thank you so much for listening and helping me put some things into perspective. I didn't realize how much I needed to "hear" these things until I read your words. I often feel guilty for writing as much as I do, but I suppose I have the hope someone else can learn from my experiences, and I do agree it is important we share them. I truly believe that by helping NT's understand autistic adults, we are creating a better future for autistic children.

Ugh. Won't let me delete a double entry. lol