Let’s talk about sleep. Again. Forever. I struggle so much with it on so many level. Before I get into it, here’s my post from yesterday about how autism and ‘socially awkward’ are often used as an excuse for creepiness.
I’m mad thinking about it again. Why are we so quick to excuse bad behavior from men*? Or to say “that’s just the way he is”? Or, even worse when little boys pulled the hair of little girls, “He’s just showing that he likes you”?
By the way, stop that bullshit. Seriously. Stop it the fuck right now. We do not need to be teaching little girls that abuse is acceptable. And, no, I don’t think that’s being hyperbolic. A boy hurts a girl, and she’s just supposed to accept it because he “likes” her? No. Not appropriate and not acceptable.
In the same vein, don’t make kids accept hug or force them to hug anybody. Bodily autonomy is important. I have heard because it excuse it because faaaaaamily. But family can do bad things, too. The vast majority of abuse of children is by family members.
I have very few absolute opinions–one of them is that kids should never be made to hug anyone they don’t want to hug. I have read the reasons why people are for it, and none of them make one whit of an impression on me. They just sound like noise in my ears and mere excuses. “You want to make Granny feel welcome!” A warm smile and a “so glad to see you” can do that.
Hm. I just thought of something. I am very much someone who doesn’t are about labels in general. Male, female, Christian, Jew, Muslim, age, etc. I understand that it’s important to most people, and I can respect that. I mean, if those aspects are clearly important to someone, then I’ll be respectful.
I vould add familial labels into that basket. This is heresy as an Asian person, but I don’t think someone should be accorded more respect just because of their position in the family. To make it clear, I think everyone is deserving of a base level of respect as a human being. But I do not and never will agree that someone deserves more respect because they’re a day older or a man.
I think it’s because of my mindset that I am so absolute about not making kids kiss and/or hug anyone they don’t want to, regardless of family connection. And partly my neurodivergence, too. If you would not make your kid hug a total stranger, then why make them hug someone they see once a year? Or even more often than that.
Kids have such little autonomy as it is; they should not be forced to give up even more of it. This is a hill I would die on.
Let’s talk about sleep. It’s something I’ve struggled with all my life. I got it under control after my medical crisis, but only because I was heavily sedated. I was flying high and felt no pain. I realized why people did drugs because it felt so good. I had never done drugs before that, and I haven’t since. But, man, I was flying high.
The thing is, I have been going to bed at midnight or later since I was a little kid. I remember reading for hours under my blankets with a flashlight as my only light. I would put a towel or t-shirt in the crack of the door so the light would not escape the room. Then I would read well into the night, not caring that I had to get up at any certain time.
In other words, it’s in my blood. When I recently discovered that neurodivergent people had different circadian rhythms than normies (among other sleep-related issues), it was another piece of the neurodivergent puzzle. Again, it wasn’t that I was broken, lazy, or wrong–it was that I was built different.
Here are some of the issues I have with sleep that are aligned with being neurodivergent: delayed sleep phase; sensory issues; melatonin-production issues; hyperactive brain at bedtime, and more.
One of the biggest problems is setting up a steady bedtime routine. Normally, it’s just hanging on as long as possible and then reluctantly going to bed at six or seven in the morning. I *know* what I’m supposed to do to set a stable bed routine–I just refuse to do it.
This is one of the (not-so) hidden costs of neurodivergence–how hard it is to actually do certain things. I used to talk about it with K when we went out dancing. Both of us wanted to do it–we loved hanging out togother. It’s just that both of us had trouble getting going. I blamed my depression, and while I do think that played a part, now I think it was more than that.
I find it darkly amusing that I have spent so much of my life trying to fix this sleep thing. Before I realized it was tied into my neurodivergence, I tried so many things. Sleeping pills, melatonin, chamomile, stretching, sleeping at different times, warm milk, warm bath, podcasts, valerian, and more.
Every time I think I’m making progress, I take a huge fall back. That’s the truly discouraging part. Inching ahead, making slow progress, and then, BAM. I’m back to going to bed at six in the morning. All I want is to go to bed at three and get up at eleven.
I foolishly think the few times a week I have to get up before noon will realign my sleep schedule, but it hasn’t so far. It’s so frustrating to just do the same thing over and over again.
Hm. I wasn’t intending to write about my broken sleep schedule, not really. But, apparently, that was what my brain wanted to write about. Sometimes, I just have to give in and let it do what it wants. Sometimes, I try to rein it in, but it is always an uphill battle.
More tomorrow.
*Rhetorical question. I know why.