Grouchy Pants

Tonight, I relived yet again the sound of a flat, monotone man, reminding me of all the years with him, yes with a roll of the eyes and a cringe. It is past his bedtime and we have a cat outside, in the freezing temps, as he calls for it. When I ask a question or see of any luck, I get the dreaded sound. Like a pout, boo boo, I want my bed, I need my sleep, it is past my bedtime. Life ends at 10:00 pm in our household, that has been since from day one. The cats even have to be in and quiet. Yes, and strangely enough they are, like he has programmed them. Well, so am I programmed basically.

Many women, wives, that I have had the opportunity to share a group for wives of Aspergers spouses, I hear this so often. The look, the voice, nothing but a stare. We are left to manage or figure out things and take care of matters. Knowing I am not alone in this endeavor feels good, as this has only been available to me the past six years. The previous twenty-nine years, I dealt with it, learn to despise and finally to the point of it all making me feel completely crazy. Thank God I had a counselor that pinpointed what was happening and what I was dealing with.

Many do not know about Aspergers or understand. I did not until 2014, which turned on a light in my dark, lonely tunnel I was living in. There is so much to this and the routine of it all, is amazing, especially with mine. Meeting or socializing can only be maintained in short periods and then a shutdown, which is typical in most. Whether it be with me, kids, his parents, company or whoever and I am left holding the conversation or visit, if it is bedtime or a ritual that is set.

So much. So much flooded my mind as I opened the door. Why did I even do that? Closing it, on the grouchy pants outside, he is just that, especially after his bedtime.

Thinking back of when we had kids and those teenage years when boys are just being boys, that did not go over well. Many times, I am sitting with them as their dad appears at the door to remind them to be quiet. I, too, as his wife and their mother was in trouble. I understand respect of being quiet at bedtime but not putting the fear of him on our kids, and me. No.

Try having a newborn and keeping it quiet after 10:00 pm. Not possible. The only thing was to go in the other room and tend to this beautiful child by holding him close to nurse and both of us falling asleep on the couch night after night, for months, if not a year. He did not care. He needed his sleep uninterrupted, just as he is today.

I wonder how he will be when he is older. Actually, I do not want to know. Jokingly, I have told him that if he even gets like his dad, I will put his butt in a nursing home. He thinks I am kidding.

So the grouchy pants of him has now made me grouchy thinking back of all the years I have dealt with this. Oh the stories I could tell. This story is yet to be continued but it repeats itself, day after day.

Here is some information that you or another may find helpful.

https://www.millcreekbehavioralhealth.com/development-disorders/aspergers/symptoms-signs-causes/

A Hugless Year

As we are nearing the end of 2020, a year we will never forget, and cannot wait for this all to be over, we cope and keep moving forward.

The holidays are nearing but apprehension is also. Do we meet or don’t we, is the question. Do we have less people or keep it the same and take our chances, is also a question. Trying to buy food and the right amount comes into play, although the grocery store shelves may take care of that decision for us.

I do plan to have just my two sons, daughter-in-law and her parents, that is it. Normally, I would have all of my husband’s family in. While I love them, I am looking forward to a smaller crowd around my table, not tables. I normally would make part of my living room area look like a small cafe with four tables. It works and is nice but so nice not to do, too. Maybe next year. We will take food over to his elderly parents, so they are not in the midst of many. It will all work out and I think everyone understands the circumstances, even though we do not like what is happening.

The holidays are a time of laughter and for me, hugs to and from my sons, especially. I so miss them this year, more than ever. I know that my son and his wife are being very selective due to this virus. I feel my other son is also although he might be enjoying the slower pace of life. He is at the age, that he is busy and the selfish, sad side of me, thinking he is too busy for his mom. I do remember being his age and I was too busy for my parents. Perhaps that old saying, what goes around, comes around. Be Still is my motto. I know that he knows I am here, which was proven in a previous blog, So Far Away.

My oldest son was up last month to drop their dog off for me to watch. Upon arriving and leaving, NO hug. How hard this was for me while trying to keep it together as he pulled out of our driveway to go home, which was emotional. I found myself angry at this virus. I have done so well but this was just so odd to feel as though he was afraid to hug me, protecting me but I also needed to protect him. A blog is floating around in my writings, called, The Bubble.

So I am trying to prepare myself that I will probably not get hugs on Thanksgiving. I said I am trying, that is all I can do. If it was just the chance of hugging and only I would be a risk, then hug me. I will take my chances. Now that we know that nobody is exempt, no matter what age, precaution is warranted. Still, I will try to get through this but knowing I will fall apart when they leave. In that, too, I am preparing for and know that it is okay. I am a mom, moms need hugs.

If this pandemic would have been years earlier, I am unsure how I would have managed. I really don’t think as well as I have, I know so. Thank God in my counseling sessions with my former counselor, we discussed often the need I had for hugs, especially from a few mother figures in my life. While I knew I dealt with this, I never really understood why. Typical thinking of that I did not receive hugs from my mom, that is all. The yearning for the lost love was present within me.

This counselor dug deep within me to pull out the rejection, abandonment and shame, just to name a few. These sessions were not always easy to process but enough that I grasped the whys in my life. To walk in her office for help due to my marriage issues and while we did so, she then stopped and said, “Now let’s deal with you.” I will never forget that day. This was not at all what I was expecting, but she was wise enough to almost see the depths of my soul, it felt like. With no hesitation we continued and in those many, many sessions over the years, layer by layer, she peeled back my hurts. These sessions were not always pleasant.

Abandonment, a major part was exposed. Why did I not know this?To feel abandonment is cruel, almost a torment, screaming quietly, PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE ME, to deaf ears around me. As I sat across from her, so many times, I felt she heard my silent screams but making me say, Please Hug Me. This was so hard but became somewhat easier, as I learned to trust her more. Had it not been for her understanding and hugs at times, I don’t know if I would be capable of handling this year.

While she was not a motherly figure to me, as both of us being around the same age with her younger in fact, but I could project that on her at the times. Project, I believe is the right term. No matter, it was helpful, even though painful to pull up those thoughts, feelings and emotions.

So in doing so, years ago, acknowledging the whys within me of those hugs I desperately needed from many, I no longer yearn for now. It is like an escape from jail. Freedom. Don’t get me wrong, I love hugs and really miss receiving and giving, as we all do probably. Right now, it is frowned upon due to the virus. I’m okay with that, until it comes to my sons. I want to hug my sons. I need their hugs, too.

With less visits, they are busy in life, as I am also, but we are all in a different place in life, and I understand. I cannot help but feel that tug of abandonment. Abandonment, even from my own sons. I know though, I cannot linger in that place of feeling abandoned. I feel it, I acknowledge it and I release it. It throws a heavy punch in my gut but it does not stay. They both know I love them and I know they love me.

Will I hug my boys on Thanksgiving upon arriving or leaving and in between when possible? I don’t know. While my oldest is more precautious, my youngest is a hugger so this might be hard for him and I but we will get through this. Often I wonder if I ran into my former counselor in public, who said we could talk and I could have a hug, if that would even happen now. This virus is the pits. If not, I know and I know that she knows I will have to deal with the gut-punch and the emotions, but mostly that I will get back up and continue in this hugless year.

So how are you dealing with less hugs and less togetherness with friends and family this year?

🍂 Before I forget, Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family. 🍂

I Am A Robot

Why do I even try to talk to this man? I ask myself that after I kick myself for even trying, each time. No matter what comment I make, I get a blank stare, eyes don’t blink and I hear, What? Let’s not forget the lack of facial expressions, there is no joy… ever.

At times I say never mind when he says “What” and then at times I repeat what I had just said but in a slow robotic voice. Simple or detailed, it does not matter. If I say it slow enough and make my point quick, it will be repeated back to me (insert banging head against the wall, here).

The processing of his mind is on slo-mo with me. Frustration to the max. Overwhelmed on his end and zoned out, even with small sentences I may say. So why do I even think I have a chance of having a conversation with this stranger that I married. How is it that he can work, be involved with work calls and process but completely, and totally braindead with me? Perhaps it is the routine, coding and the numbers in the details of his job that makes this man tick. Actually, it is. 

A suggestion from a counselor many years ago to hang a keyboard around my neck to spark life into this man. Trust me, I considered such but knew I would get that blank stare of confusion from his beady eyes, as he processes why I have a keyboard hanging around my neck, wearing nothing else. Forget that, in order to seduce him. He would not get it although wonder if the keyboard was an old one not used or if I took it from his desk. What spark? Fizzle!

My energy is depleted after all of these years to even try to communicate, forget the other. Different wavelengths, different floors, different life.

Explaining this life of mine to counselors up until recently was like unlocking my own padded cell to walk in and throw away the keys. They did not understand but advising me to leave. I could not in my right mind, of what was left of it, to leave our boys in his care. As they grew up and to be in their teenage years, they would run this man over and he would not see it coming or care. What? I had to stick it out and deal with the craziness it brought between the both of us and the grieving of a marriage that I will never have with this man, just a business partner. 

The boys were finally in college, empty nesters we were, existing under one roof. At this point, I was beaten down to nothing left within me to fight. It felt as though I could only mumble, “Lord, please help me” in desperation. Thinking, “Lord, I know you know my name and I know you know where I am.” Otherwise, I was slowly dying within. 

I knew I had to get an upper hand on my life and for living if I was to survive. Little by little, progress but healing of my spirit, soul and body was needed to take place. I decided in 2014 after having a major surgery and hearing cancer but it was found early, I think gave me the push I needed. I was going to give it one more shot with a counselor. Otherwise, I am done, stick a fork in me. 

After much research, narrowing my choice of counselors down to two, I kept returning to one and that one, I made contact to meet.  First meeting, I will never forget sitting down and looking at this woman and saying when she asked why I was there, which was “I think I am going crazy.”

You cannot tell me that the Lord did not put her in my path for this period in my life. The first three months, as we began to know one another, with me describing what this life and marriage was and is like, she had a clue. I was unsure, thinking it was a child issue, which was Aspergers (AS). How could that be? Still, she was convincing enough that this truly described this man. I began my research on Aspergers. This explains the craziness I was experiencing. Finally, I had a spark of hope, at least. 

I found one book that seemed like a good fit for me to read and that I did. I underlined, marked it up with highlights and made notes all throughout this book. It looked like my Bible, all marked up, etc. Actually, this book felt like a Bible to me in the sense of describing this man that I married in 1989.

The lightbulb moment and understanding the craziness I have felt and relief that I am not crazy.  Although, at times those thoughts come and I still wonder. I will not let these thoughts torment me any longer. Also, understanding why he did this or that and why the ‘keyboard moments’ made no spark fly.  The spark or even trying to spark was out and done. Now, I just want to survive and get healthy within myself and I have been doing just that. He will never change and he has not and does not care to change. There is no working on us as I tried numerous times early on, only to be looked at in a blank stare. Sooner or later, you give up and get the help you need and let the other remain, as is.

Still today, even though we are still under one roof but on different floors, it works as we have our own interests and routines. There might be days that we may not see one another, or only in passing. Thank God, when we moved into this house, we remodeled the lower level as an apartment. Thinking this was for the kids the whole time, if needed when they got older, or perhaps used as an in-law suite. Never to think until just a few years ago, it was for us. Tell me that is not God. In that, back when we moved in, back in 1999, and I was planning the layout for this remodeling. I remember laying on the floor and counting how many drop ceiling tiles and brackets we would need, drywall sheets per room, etc. I had a lot of supplies delivered to the garage before even having a handyman. Crazy enough, this one handyman called me saying he never calls people but felt he needed to reach out to me. I will never forget that call and how surprised but also increasing my faith. Only the Lord knew of what I had done and what I needed. Interesting, actually mindblowing. Talk about faith increasing. It was when Bill worked and had this lower level all completed and then he asked me how I knew how much product to order that was needed. We had one box of ceiling tile left over and it was perfect to have for damage through the years. But God!

Aspergers is exhausting for the spouse. Whether it be the husband in my case or the wife. It’s a different world and the Neurotypical (NT) spouse must be a part of it. I have heard too many state the same thing in support groups. While there are some good traits, which is the only reason sanity remains, it is possible to exist. The good outweighs the bad and you feel as if you can stick it out a little longer and then there are those times when you are lucky to know your own name. Knowing early on in a relationship, there is an advantage of knowing your spouse has Aspergers. Later on, not so much. I have found that in life when we realize others deal with same circumstances, as in the Aspergers support group, we don’t feel so alone. We are not crazy. A spark of hope outweighs the monotone voice of the word, What?

https://www.spectrumrelationships.com/

https://psychcentral.com/lib/self-care-tips-for-those-married-to-someone-with-asperger-syndrome/

https://proverbs31.org/read/devotions/full-post/2016/09/26/in-case-you-were-wondering-god-knows

If you would like to know more about Aspergers, just look up Aspergers on Google, etc., and you will find plenty. Perhaps this will help just one other spouse to know, you are not crazy.