The price we pay.

Before I begin, I'd like to say that, for the most part, I'm happy with who I am; happy with my life, my family and friends - I do truly appreciate how lucky I am to be where I'm at now. My partner is incredible - his inner strength has always amazed me - and I'd be absolutely lost without him. Life can be beautiful.

This past week, though, has been tough. Tough is actually an understatement - it's been one of the hardest weeks I've experienced in a very long time. Expectations have been raised to almost insurmountable levels, and our home has seen a lot of negativity over the last 10 days - and not all of it came from me. 

Around this time last week, I was reaching the later stages of a suicide plan. My partner surprised me by turning up an hour earlier than expected - in fact, at that point, I wasn't entirely sure he'd be returning at all, bar to collect his things. My rock, the cog that keeps this family running, very nearly crumbled. Discovering my intent pushed him over the edge, and I (we) came seriously close to losing him completely. I absolutely regret acting on my suicidal thoughts.

I hadn't yet taken anything above my prescribed dose when I was discovered, but had spent a good three hours getting everything in order before I took the final steps. I'd collected my presciption for Tramadol after I'd said goodbye to my beautiful boys - by far the most painful admission in this post. They had absolutely no clue anything was wrong, they were picked up by a friend to spend time with her children; nothing was out of the ordinary except my inability to stop crying. I got my youngest dressed with the utmost care and consciousness, taking in every single detail of them both before they walked out of my garden gate. I'd prepared messages for my parents and my partner, and was trying to work out whether I should take the pills and walk somewhere to avoid getting caught, whether I should do it at all, when my partner pulled up outside. I'm thankful he did, although at the time it felt like my insides had fallen out; not only would he likely discover the evidence and be upset, but my chance to escape the hell I was in had just slipped away. 

My partner was, in a word, devastated. Angry... so very, very angry too. He couldn't even bare to look at me or touch me, his hate filled words inflicting pain I can't possibly describe. Of course, I deserved them. What he said was true; I'm a pathetic, selfish individual. What I tried to do highlights that. The people I would have left behind would be affected, in ways I probably don't understand. His anger spilled over, and all of the tension of living with me came screaming out; admitting he simply gets annoyed when I get upset these days - no matter whether I can control the situation/reaction or not. This is not something I can simply fix, the answers aren't simple. 

I'm not sure how, or why, but despite stating his intent to leave over and over, he stayed. The anger seems to have stayed too - to be honest, it's been lurking for a long time. After several frank, brutally honest conversations with him, I've discovered he's struggling immensely to deal with me. His feelings of love, although currently still there, are allegedly under threat by the stress of dealing with my more "difficult" behaviours - even the small annoyances, like my tendency to interrupt/talk over him, or dealing with anxieties when out shopping, are starting to get to him. I despise myself for this - a perfectly nice person who's become angry and resentful just living in the same house as me. The person I met would never have ripped my earplugs out and screamed in my face (note, this was 4 hours prior to the suicide confrontation - my own fault for trying to go walking at the wrong time, I was in a complete brain fog at that point and didn't check the time). He's a good person, the best - but living with me has taken it's toll on him. 

All this is not to say that I don't try - oh my, if you could know how much effort I put into being "better". Better at staying calm, at juggling tasks, at being a person. Just making a phone call leaves my mind exhausted - having to put on a façade in real life is even harder. I'm almost constantly on edge - learning about autism, although eye-opening and incredibly helpful in learning more about myself, has brought about a certain self awareness that is, at times, unbearable. Knowing I have an issue with, say, conversation, means I can work on developing those skills specifically - but it also leaves me with a kind of paranoia, which again, is both a help and a hindrance. This paranoia, or self awareness, leads me to put my full focus on the problem area - either leading to success as a result of good planning/attitude, or failure as a result of anxiety over the thought of failing, generally not being good at whatever it is to begin with, or losing concentration. This, in turn, often results in me beating myself up - both figuratively and literally. It's a vicious cycle I'm struggling to break. 

Putting the suicide plans aside, the past week has been a mass of tears, meltdowns, shutdowns and deep loneliness. More than ten severe upsets and what felt like a hundred smaller ones have left me, and the people around me, exhausted. In fact, the turbulence of that period was most likely the cause of my complete loss of hope to begin with, the catalyst to my choice to opt out. I'm not entirely sure what's caused the recent increase in emotional outbursts - I know the barbed comments from the Space Cowboy in the past few weeks haven't helped, but surely there's a cause beyond that? The only big changes have been the boy's return to school, the Soulful One joining Beavers and myself attempting to be at least 10% more social than usual. I've coped with such changes better than this in the past, though, being fair, usually one at a time. 

I'm also no longer allowed to bring up suicide in discussions, which is difficult as I tend to feel the urge to split my head open every time I have a meltdown, and is difficult to get used to. When I mutter or cry the words "I want to die, I need to die" during upsets, I'm not saying that to anyone in particular. I just feel the intense urge to remove the words from my head and blurt them out into the real world. I suppose it could also be seen as a plea for help - at that point, something needs to change in the environment - usually it's for whatever it is that's distressing to either stop, or be removed. Whether that's a person who wont stop talking, or a fire alarm going off, all my mind wants is a big red button that just ends it all. I don't think in terms or permeability at this point - my mind is stuck on automatic speech and response. I'll often shift into catatonic states, making very little sense of incoming information from the world around me; most of what is said to me in these periods is completely deflected and simply impossible to process. Some words/phrases sink in, though it's hit and miss. I often lose speech, or am reduced to just repeating the same phrases/words until things just. stop. being. so. awful. 

Then, in anything from 5 minutes to 12 hours or more, I'm okay again. I'm still me - flawed, goofy and ridiculously easy to amuse/please, but without that ache in my chest, the pressure in my brain that makes me think nothing will ever be okay again, the itching all over my body that feels like tiny worms snaking their way under my skin, making me twitch, shake and flail, the intense feelings that flood me and then let go, leaving me shaken, exhausted and, depending on who saw what, deeply ashamed. 

As of right now, things between the Space Cowboy and I have settled, slightly. It's taken two days of relative calmness (only one moderate upset per day) to be able to come on here and write this down. As always, I believe I may have gone off on a slight tangent - my apologies.

I will, as ever, continue to try my best to make the people I love happy - whether it's by trying to avoid speaking of my suicidal thoughts, making their favourite food or even keeping the mask on, out there and at home, for them - no matter how much you wish you could just rip it off for good. 

Do you understand me?

My life can, at times, feel like a sequence of misunderstandings.

So it's not surprising that there's communication difficulties within our family. Unfortunately, this is made even more complex by both boys seemingly sharing these difficulties. It's hard to see where nature ends and nurture begins - both boys have copied behaviours from myself and each other, but both have their own ways of showing their frustrations at being perpetually misunderstood. 

I'm in the fortunate position of understanding their frustration; they're facing a lot of the same issues I have - the Soulful One in particular has been in some eerily similar situations, especially since starting school. He's currently waiting to be assessed by the same people that I first saw (Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services - complex needs) a mere decade or so ago for almost identical behaviours.

One of my main concerns with my youngest child is the type of speech he's using - despite his continued inability to speak without distorting the words/dropping beginnings, middles, ends or blurring the word into a similar sound, he's increasingly using speech - which is fantastic, progress is progress is progress. Never the less, the speech itself is rather bizarre. There's very little spontaneous speech at all - and when it's spontaneous, it's almost always just scripting/parroting the same question or statement. Often it feels like when we respond, only a fraction of what we've said has gone in - if any. If he, in turn, responds, it's often completely off topic, repeating himself again, repeating one of his "phrases", or saying yes/no in spite of not knowing what's been said, then asking the question again, or just giving up/getting distracted by something else. 

Because of this, it's quite difficult to gauge how much he actually understands - and how much he's just saying yes to because he thinks that's the right word to say. None of this detracts from his brilliant personality; he's a joy to be around, and always makes me laugh with his funny little ways and routines. 

He spends the majority of his time pretending to be one animal or another, usually a cat; he's very attached to our cat Boo. Luckily she's a very placid animal and puts up with him using her as a pillow, "petting" her, even stacking his toys on her. There's a lot to be said for pet therapy - his love for his furry friend prompted the majority of his early communication; meowing, purring and pushing his face against things/people he liked. 

He's nicknamed "the Feral One" as he's often found displaying animal-like behaviours and making odd, animal-like noises. Even when playing alone (his usual MO) he continues to make the strangest noises - it's become a backing track in this house. Although of course his nickname is a joke, his behaviour does strike me as odd - though more eccentric than anything negative. The noises do make daytime hours that little bit harder to deal with, but with the trusty ear defenders and the humour I can't help but find in watching/hearing him helps me make it through the stormier days. Besides, no matter what he does, says or doesn't say - nothing makes me happier than seeing this little face:

A very quiet Easter...

As we're not a particularly religious family, Easter is all about the chocolate.

And because we tend to stick to what's routine, the boys stayed out at their Nan's last night, as they do every other weekend. No sense in changing things up, I'll see them for an hour before bedtime; in fact this set up has given me chance to clean the house before setting up an Easter egg hunt for when they return tonight. Much fun will be concentrated into this upcoming hour and shall follow through to tomorrow - bank holidays are so useful sometimes!

In between considering making a start on dinner, sporadic periods of obsessive cleaning and smoking, I've decided to use this free time to write a formal introduction of our family. Although I'll try my best to keep each section as brief as possible, I do have a habit of rambling on, so apologies in advance for any tenuous paragraphs of drivel I may spout out before clicking Publish. 

First, there's the adults - me (Pix) and my partner (the Space Cowboy) are 23 and 26 years of age, respectively. Our relationship reflects out situation; unique. He's the thread that holds our family together. As my carer, he helps me with daily living, organises each one of us, keeps us safe and, as the only one of us able to drive, he's in charge of all transport and frequently referred to as our taxi service :) 

Without him, there would be no blog, as there would be no internet, as I wouldn't have paid aforementioned internet bill. In fact, I'd have paid approximately 50% of the bills, if that, and would probably be a dribbling mess in a barren, cold living room right now. With my parent's both too unwell to care for me, it fell on him rather early on in our relationship to take over. Not many men have the self control, perseverance or inner strength it takes to do what he does for us. 

He's a fabulous person in more ways than just his role of course, in fact he's one of the brightest, funniest people I know - and one of the most stubborn too :) His interests are based mainly on space/time/matter and aero-mechanics - most of which goes straight over my head. He has three children from a previous relationship, I'll say more about them in the next few paragraphs. He's a wonderful father, both to his own children and mine. And there's nothing more attractive than a great Dad :)

As for me, I'm best described as being both half and double my age. I have a number of interests/passions, including but not limited to behavioural science and psychology - specifically in cases where nature goes wrong, animal studies (specifically elephants, wolves, degus and all felines), neurology and the TV series Supernatural. I'm also very excited when I'm around rainbow colours (in the order red/pink, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple), glitter, water and books. At present, I'm awaiting formal diagnosis for Autism Spectrum Disorder. I was misdiagnosed as a child with a mood disorder and have been on every pill they could think of - not one of them made any positive difference in my life, and only recently have I reconnected with mental health enough for them to get an idea of how my mind works. I'm an avid reader of both fiction and non-fiction and occasionally sketch/paint. My favourite creations are my two children, the Soulful One (6) and Bo (3), both blue eyed, brown haired ninjas. 

The Soulful One is, as his name suggests, a rather soulful child. He's always been a little bit eccentric in his ways (and his speech) but not much was thought of it until he reached school age; the pressure and change it brought about was both unexpected and explosive. His volatile reaction was most likely a result of us (his family) adapting to him so subtly and slowly that we didn't even realise it was happening; his life before school was one of routine - almost every day was spent with me, doing the same things, with the same people - with hindsight, I can see that the abrupt change to this monotonous lifestyle would of course cause upset, in fact I can imagine it would affect even the most well balanced child in some way. If we knew then, what we know now, this reaction could have been predicted and adjustments/accommodations made accordingly, but alas they weren't. 

After a period of time, he settled slightly; but almost every time he seemed to adjust to this new routine, something would happen and things would go right back to where they were, or worse, escalate. This has continued to present day. He'll seem to be coping okay and then he'll have weeks of meltdowns, hiding under tables, screaming bloody murder and more recently he's resorted to physical violence when he's touched during an anxiety attack. Unfortunately so far he's yet to be formally assessed so has no diagnosis. His school feel unable to put adequate support in place until they know exactly what they're dealing with, so for now he's stuck in limbo. 

Aside from his at times frightening outbursts, he's an incredibly sweet, sensitive boy. His love and generosity for his family and friends knows no bounds; he would and has gone without so everyone else gets a share. He's incredibly stubborn and believes he knows more than any adult does (being fair, he probably knows more than most!) and has an awesome imagination. He wants to be a scientist when he's an adult like his hero, Flint Lockwood (Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs) and his favourite book is his encyclopaedia of science. He's famous for his deep and, at times, sombre quotes about life, death and everything in between. 

His younger brother, Bo, is a whirling dervish, to put it bluntly. He's almost never still, enjoys bouncing on/off/onto/into things and very tight cuddles. He's usually pretending to be an animal of some sort, is persistently scruffy and is often referral to as "the Feral One". His favourite things are his stuffed reindeer "Kittycat" and his Megabloks square, and he loves being tickled or "eaten" more than anything in the world. He has quite severe speech delay and mild - moderate delays in motor skills, understanding/cognitive development and social/emotional development. Like his brother he's bursting full of love, although he likes his space from other children sometimes :) who doesn't?

Last but certainly not least are my partner's children, the Genius (6), the Wanderer (4) and Wreck-it Ralph (3). They visit here once a week, though we're increasing to two/three visits slowly to let the younger two adjust. The Genius, as his name suggests, is an incredibly bright and well adjusted young man. He's a wonderful older brother and role model for his younger brothers (he also has a new baby brother at home, so he's got a lot of little faces looking up to him!). Although he can seem quiet when you first meet him, it's not long until he's blowing your mind with his vast collection of knowledge about animals, space, wrestling and just about anything else he's interested in. 

Middle child, the Wanderer, currently falls on the severe end of the autistic spectrum. As a result, his communication is limited and relies on a combination of gestures and guesswork from his caregivers, PECS and some sign language. Despite these difficulties, he's an incredibly pleasant and happy child - probably one of the happiest I know! He enjoys playing with his train set, is very adept with technology and makes some very interesting artwork - though it's been known to make a few noses twitch ;) he's a very expressive, endearing little boy; his smile makes my heart happy :)

Wreck-it Ralph, as you may have guessed, has a bit of a destructive side - though never with bad intent - he's simply a very active little guy! Like his brother, he's been diagnosed with autism. His speech, although delayed, is coming on in leaps and bounds - his chattering is both heart-warming and very persistent, and quite often hysterical (think speaking in tongues and you'll get what I mean). He's the type of child that's adorable even when he's grumpy - which tends to be whenever something's taken off him :p he's a beautiful little boy though, and like his brothers, he's a pleasure to have in our home.  

Yes, this may in fact be the most autistic family picture. Psst, told you he's still adorable. 

So that's us. Thanks for reading, and have a fabulous Easter!

It's a, nice day for a, white wedding.

So, we missed my sister's wedding. Half sister, and not what you'd call "close" but still, douche move. Couldn't be helped though - one spectacular meltdown right before we were due to leave made it so. There was no way of arriving on time by that point, in fact we were over an hour late by the time I was calm enough to try and leave the house. 

But, we made it to the reception! Which is almost as good, right?

We had some minor hiccups, an anxiety attack from me in the beginning (room packed full of people I don't know) and an eventual deterioration of Jack's behaviour (same reasons as above plus over excitement/over stimulation). But he pulled it back, and we managed to stay well into the night. By the time we got home it was a race to get to bed first - kids won, mainly because the youngest dozed off in the car. :p

They met their Uncle Robbie for the *first time ever!* and I met my beautiful niece Lexie. Over all a good day was had :)

Chinese Monsters

Super proud of my boy today. Despite having a bloody awful start to the week (and waking up several times last night to tell me he hated me; he forgot he'd calmed down and talked it out and was still stuck on anger, it was both horrid and humorous) he's brought it back today - only one moderate upset and he managed to calm down much quicker than usual and complied with his teachers - he even won a prize for getting enough bucket slips!

He's currently watching Monsters University in Chinese - because "I love Chinese you know Mummy!"