I want to talk more about how my brain works–or doesn’t. In the last post, I went way off the tracks as is my wont, and I never really made my way back to the main road. Who knows if I’ll do the same thing today? (I will. I always do.)
I was talking to my mother tonight, and she was lamenting that she hadn’t been shopping in a real store in such a long time. Nor does she really feel comfortable shopping online. She was castigating herself for not doing the former, putting it in very negative terms. I was saddened for her because of the huge amount of shame she was carrying because of it. And I understood because I did the same thing to myself more often than not.
She was shaming herself and saying she was getting agoraphobia as a reason for not going shopping. I stopped her and said that she had a lot to deal with, so it made sense that it would be harder for her to go shopping. In other words, it didn’t always have to do with mental health. This was something I had a hard time deciphering. Sometimes, it was my mental health issues acting up. Sometimes it’s something that anyone in the situation would do. And sometimes, it’s just the way my brain works.
In other words, it’s not always a mental health issue–though sometimes it can be, of course. Anwdn it’s not always my particular way of thinking. Sometimes, anyone would react in the same way in the same situation. It’s just hard to tell when I’m used to defaulting to there’s something wrong with me.
One thing I talk about with A is how to decide which flaws I want to actually change and which I’ve accepted. This is getting past the point of shaming myself for everything I think of is wrong with me. For example. I work to the back of a deadline. My mother and I used to have friction over this when I did editing for her. She would give me a date, and I would assume that was the date she wanted it by. It was usually a date far in the future, so I would file it in the back of my brain and move on.
A week or two later, my mother would ask how it was going, and then be not happy when I said I hadn’t even started. We did this song and dance for far too long (Midwestern and Taiwanese cultures at work here) until I finally brought it up to her. She said that the date she gave me was the ‘last resort’ date. Secretly, she wanted me to get it to her about a week or two after she sent me the piece to edit.
I told her that she had to give me the real date she wanted the finished product by because I was not going to get to work on it early. I just wasn’t. I knew that about myself, and it worked for me. I had been doing it since I was a kid, and it was one trait that I was not compelled to change. What I did change, however, was feeling stressed about it. When I was in college, I used to do it and feel bad the whole time. I would be thinking about having to do it and dreading it. Now, I just know that I’ll get it done when it’s the deadline or a few days beffore and chill about it.
This is with writing, by the way. I haven’t figured out a good way to make deadlines concerning bills and such. I struggle way more with that, and I’ve paid the neurospicy tax more than once because of it.
That still brings me shame. It should be so easy just to pay the damn bill when it first comes in, but no. I put it in a drawer, forget about it, and then have to both feel guilty about it and pay the late fee. I don’t mind the late fee, but I do mind the stress.
I’m also struggling with my sleep again. Still. This is one that frustrates me and demoralizes me. I have struggled with it all my life, and any time I make any kind of headway, I tumble down again. The only time I got anything resembling decent sleep was after my medical crisis because I was so fucking tired from dying twice–and because I was pumped full of really strong drugs. They felt so good, by the way. And getting into bed by ten and up by six consistently for months was heaven.
`Now, though, I’m back to going to sleep as the sun rises and not getting enough of it. I just read an article on how bad sleep and neurospiciness can be correlated/related. I knew it on a molecular level, but I didn’t consciously realize it.
I have tried so many different things, and none of them have worked. Melatonin did nothing. I just looked it up and it’s less effective for neurospicy folks than for normies. Oh, and other reasons that neurospicy people find it difficult to sleep–sensory sensitivity can make it difficult to be close to bedding. I can attest to that. I used to sleep naked in part because I could not stand the feel of clothing against my skin as I slept.
Also, autistic people don’t get as much REM sleep, apparently. Also also, our circadian rhythms are different than normies. Oh, and I’ve expressed my displeasure with the whole idea that delayed sleep is cosidered a disorder. Such bias and prejudice. If they want to say that it’s a struggle for late-sleepers because of the early-bird world, I’d be fine with that. But saying that delayed-phase sleep within itself was a disorder? Oh, hell, no.
I read a study that showed a correlation between delayed sleep and depression, but it’s Psych 101 to realize that correlation does not equal causation. They were assuming that the former caused the latter, but the latter could easily cause the former. Or the latter is caused by the former, but only because of how hard it is to follow a night owl schedule in an early bird world.
I feel like I’m fighting my nature every day. I’m not trying to do the impossible, either. I’m not forcing myself to go to bed at midnight or anything like that. I would like to go to bed by two or three and get up at ten or eleven. So, basically shaving three to four hours off my bedtime. I think that’s reasonable, but I haven’t been able to get in that zone.
A suggested giving myself a hard stop for when I get off my computer. I know she’s right, but every fiber in my body resists doing it. More tomorrow.