The Real Me

First of all, like my new background? I decided I wanted to change. I am a Gemini after all.. we live to change things around.

Now the downside of being a Gemini, or maybe it's just the downside of being me. I'm not going to get all "poor me". I've had a lot of stumbling blocks I've had to overcome in my life but I'm still here so that makes me a survivor. What's past is past. I believe that everything we go through is a lesson that we need. Sometimes it's hard to see the reason for the lesson but I've been able to see some of them. I have to tell you that therapy and learning about myself in Al Anon is really the reason I'm still here. I needed those lessons too and was fortunate to get what I did from them. I'm relatively happy most of the time, I laugh too loud sometimes - which is a good thing - I can see the humour in a lot of things that people can't. When our house flooded and the rug was floating I just sat looking at it and laughed. What else was I going to do? I could drive myself crazy worrying about it or I could think about how funny it looked just floating there. Of course I forgot I had a 2 week old baby in the house. Thank goodness the civic crews came and pumped it out and got our furnace started again (it was January) so I didn't have to take 2 kids to a motel. So, there again, humour AND gratitude.

But then there are days like yesterday. I even forgot it was our 36th Anniversary. My husband is out all day unti 4:00 working on his airplane. Then he comes home and has a nap. Because I want to get the carpets cleaned (which is way overdue) I had to vacuum and dust yesterday because we're getting an estimate today and he needs to be able to see any stains on the rug, which I'm happy to say there aren't any of, just general dirt from walking on them.

I also had to do laundry and go to the grocery store. I also had spent 4 1/2 hours on Sunday powerwashing the front of the house. In other words I was tired.

5:00 I'm just starting to prepare dinner when my husband said our TV died. If our TV dies we can't watch Jeopardy at 7:30. I'm sure most of you know about our son Michael who is Autistic (Aspergers to be exact). We watch Jeopardy with him every night at 7:30. He likes it cause he knows a lot of the answers that even the contestants don't know. He doesn't know the easy answers but he knows the hard History and Geography ones - go figure.

So it's either move the little TV from our bedroom or buy a new TV. I don't want to buy a new TV without shopping around but husband said we needed to go look NOW. Michael wanted to know exactly what the TV would look like. Would it be the same size? The same colour? In the same place? I explained that new TV's are shorter and wider than our old one. Well, he didn't like that. He can't handle change at all. I said we had to get one like that or not have a TV at all. He finally agreed.

So off we went. Of course looking at them we started to decide to get a bigger TV and a stand and all this stuff we can't afford at all. We came home and measured again and went back to look again. Finally husband agreed to come home and sleep on it. I was starving by this time. I felt like I was going to pass out so I made him stop at Quizno's and picked up a sub. We got home and I ate mine right away. He, on the other hand, decided he needed to move the smaller TV from our bedroom into the livingroom NOW so we could watch Jeopardy in 10 minutes.

He and Michael got the TV out of the TV cabinet and he hooked up the small one, which was fine but had no sound ARGH! I figured out we needed one of the PVR controls to change channels and the other one to turn the sound up and down. Weird.

Now Michael also has OCD. - which means you can't just leave a TV sitting in the middle of the livingroom. I told him to leave it until we could get a dolly to move it cause it's too heavy. He said okay but then kept moving it bit by bit to where he wanted it to be in the room no matter how many times I told him to stop. Frustrated much?

Then it happened. If I don't tell him to cut his nails he doesn't do it. He looks like Howard Hughes. He also has something wrong with his nails so they're very discoloured and very brittle (probably diet). Next thing I know he says "There goes another toenail." (cause he was still moving the thing and stubbed his toe). I told him if he didn't cut them they'd catch and rip. Well, I was wrong, somewhat, when it comes to him. His peeled right back so it was still attached but almost off and bleeding.

So what do you do? I told him we were off to the ER cause all doctors and clinics are closed at 7:30pm. He was not happy about that. I wasn't happy about that either cause he hasn't been showering (and it's been hot here) and he hasn't been changing into clean clothes. His hair is long and greasy from not showering and from refusing to go to a barber, his jacket is ripped.. he insists on wearing a jacket year round as well as a camoflauge baseball type cap. So I had to walk into the ER with this kid who looks like he lives on skid row - not that there's anything wrong with that if people really do live on the streets but when he lives in a middle class neighbourhood where we have lots of hot water and soap it's embarrassing. I'm struggling. He's 30 years old. He even is able to drive - 12 years without an accident. But when it comes to grooming, diet and exercise forget it. I made him get a once a week paper route so he at least gets out of the house and gets some exercise that one day.

I tried to get him to use the antiseptic that you have to use when you enter the hospital. The lady behind the counter just HAD to say it stinks. Okay, that loses him... he's smell sensitive too. So we sit at the hospital for 2 hours. His anxiety kicks in, which makes my anxiety kick in. He complains and complains and keeps picking things up off the floor and putting them in the garbage (OCD). Then he found a spot of dirt on the curtain. I told him not to touch it about 5 times. It could be blood.. I dunno... we're in ER. I finally insisted he had to rub his hands with the Purell I carry in my purse.

I'm still tired and sitting on a metal stool with no back on it. I took a look at his toe. It had stopped bleeding. I had been talking to two other guys there who had been there for 5 hours waiting. I was in no mood to sit there for 5 hours minimum (it was now 7 hours for those guys and they still hadn't seen a doctor). So I went looking for a nurse and asked if she could just wrap it for me and I'd go to our own doctor today. Thank goodness she agreed and we were able to come home.

We got home and Michael said he couldn't go to the doctor today cause he was nervous that a stranger was coming into the house to give me a quote on the rugs. I called the doctor this morning anyway. Of course she wasn't in today... and she's booked up for tomorrow. So I asked for Thursday. I wanted one for myself to get the results of last weeks blood tests and told her I wanted one for Michael because of his toenail. She said he should be looked at right away and gave me an appointment with the other doctor who's there. Not good. She's a stranger to him even if she is a very good doctor (I've gone to her myself a few times). Michael had woken up and heard me talking to my husband about the doctor appointment. I told him I was dreading telling Michael I was taking him. He said we'd tell him together. Of course as soon as he left to go downstairs out comes Michael saying he heard and he wasn't going to a doctor. I told him I'd give him Ativan. Nope, he didn't want it. He's totally against medication. When he was on it for his OCD he pretended to take it and then I found about 2 weeks worth hidden under a book in his room.

Anyway, with the news of the doctor he's even more nervous and hasn't eaten at all today. I told him to cut back what he could of the nail and to cut his other nails short. Next thing I know he comes to me and shows me that the nail is completely gone so he doesn't need to go to the doctor. Now I guess so. He'd cleaned it up and let me spray some antiseptic on it. It looks pretty good.

So now no doctor appointment and he's actually putting on socks inside his runners cause I told him if he wasn't going to wear sandals he needed socks to keep that toe clean.

I'm feeling like an emotional mess. Where's the line between caregiver and parent? Am I a caregiver or a parent or just an annoying old lady? He's 30. Most 30 year olds are allowed to make their own decisions. How far does that extend?

I've decided that if he's not going to shower and keep that hair clean that he has to get it shaved close. It's easier to wash and it doesn't look really greasy when it's dirty. I told him one trip to the barber and then his dad can do it with the trimmers he has.

Oh brother. I better shut up now. I just need someone to talk to. There are no agencies who can help adults with Aspergers, or parents of adults with Aspergers. He's too high functioning.