My 13 Reasons Why I Chose Life

Amanda smiling

My friends Amanda is one of my reasons.

Recently, I finished the book 13 Reasons Why by Jay Asher. The novel tells of a girl who sends out a message to the thirteen people who caused her to commit suicide. Although difficult at many parts, this story is honest and fascinating.

While reading it, I thought of the times that I felt like giving up on life. There are many things that stopped me. However, there are certain people who had the most influence on saving me.

So instead of sending out a message to those who caused me to give up, here is a message of hope and love for those that supported and saved me. I excluded my family members simply because they are an obvious (for me) help. Thank you to all of them as well as those who also aided me on this beautiful but painful journey of life.

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One Thousand Thanks: 822 – 832. Soothing and Textile Touches

Petting a cat at the pet store

Soft cats are another touch that I am thankful is in the world.

Biology lab has certain taught me this semester that I am not a kinesthetic learner. All of the information in my head refuses to come out and interact with my experiments. Luckily, our professor lets us work in groups, so others help guide me along throughout the projects.

This turned out to be a huge blessing in disguise. When I mentioned this last minute to my therapist, she correlated it to both my Aspergers and eating disorder. “How does this affect visualizing how much food to have,” she questioned. Eagerly, I told her of my troubles figuring out portion sizes and other tasks because spatial reasoning is so hard for me. After listening carefully, she stated that she would look into different methods to help me with this problem. Having someone from my eating disorder treatment facility work so much to aid me with the struggles Aspergers brings up in my life is amazing. In the past, they have mostly not believed me. This is a great step in the right direction toward recovery.

Anyway, all of that is to say that touch is probably the hardest sense for me. It is frightening and a bit haunting. When people touch me, I tend to pull away although part of me yearns for contact. Certain clothing is difficult to wear, but other fabrics make me so calm. Thus, I am going to discuss those touches that I like despite how overwhelming this sense can be.

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My Mom is Not a Therapist

Family upon couch
Family upon couch

My family

My mother is an amazing person. She cares for and loves me to the best of her abilities. However she is not perfect. In fact, she is not even my therapist.

Often times, I interact with my family as if they were my medical caregivers. When I self-harm, their confused and angry response terrifies me. Times when I need consoling, they might be warn out and unable to listen. The way my Aspergian brain works still bewilders and annoys them. Thus, I am left longing for therapy from people who (despite their love) do not have the training or energy to give me that.

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Running Away from Needed Help: Part 2 – DP Challenge: Cliffhanger

Running Away

Running away will never make you free.
– Kenny Loggins

This post will be a sequel to the one from yesterday which you can read here.  The Daily Post challenge Cliffhanger inspired this post and its prequel.  I hope that you enjoy the continuation of my story.

“Calm down, Anna Rose.  You can’t drive when you are so upset.”  Faintly, I heard my mother’s voice in the distance.  Hot tears rolled down my face as I clenched my jaw tightly.  Veering sharply to the left, my car speed out of the parking lot, as far away from the gray building as possible.

“I cannot believe her.  Never, ever again!”  Repeating my refusal to return, I rapidly came to a stop, hands trembling on the wheel.

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Running Away from Needed Help – DP Challenge: Cliffhanger

Running Away

Running away will never make you free.
– Kenny Loggins

This post is a bit different in style although similar in content to my normal ones.  I decided to participate in Daily Post’s Weekly Writing Challenge: Cliffhanger.  Unlike most of my writing, this story from my life will be continued by another post tomorrow.  Hopefully, you will be left wanting to read more at the end of this post.  So without further ado, I will commence with my tale.

Haunting my daily life, the song Another One Bites the Dust has played through my mind multiple times lately.  Slowly, my care team seems to be falling away from me in this past year.  The medical doctor who took over an hour to speak encouragement to me and the dietitian who refused to let my eating disorder dictate any meals both left me alone.  Grieving their loss has added to my depression and anxiety.

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The Enigma of the Empathetic Aspergian

The Emphatic Aspergian

The great gift of human beings is that we have the power of empathy. – Meryl Streep

Sitting across from my psychologist, I traced the swirls on the carpet with my foot as I gazed out the window behind her.  How was I going to tell this wise woman who had helped me to understand my Aspergian brain ever since she diagnosed me that I was cured?  That I apparently miracously no longer had Aspergers?  That I probably never was on the autistic spectrum in the first place?

“Do you understand what I am saying?”  After hemming and hawing, I looked at her hopefully. Maybe she would understand without me explaining myself in depth.  The pain and disappointment might be softened that way.

“I am not quite sure where you are going but I think you are beginning to explain it to me.”  Dashing my hopes, my therapist nudged me gently but firmly with her voice to continue. Continue reading