I think I’m about to cut all contact with one of my parents. The other one I don’t have much contact with, and I rarely talk to my siblings either. It’s scary to take such a big step but I’ve been trying to find a way to communicate with this parent and so far I’ve failed. She hurts me and I’ve put up with a lot of ableistic abuse for the sake of my child but now she has done something unacceptable that hurt my child and that’s it. I have to do something more drastic than trying to talk. I can not risk her doing something like this again, and considering the fact that she doesn’t seem to think she did anything wrong, the risk is high. I want to elaborate on this but my head is too foggy at the moment. At some point I want to write more about what I mean with ableistic abuse, but right now I recommend this piece from Kink Praxis for those of you who wants to read more about emotional abuse (the post I’m linking to isn’t about sex but a lot of the posts on Kink Praxis is, just so you know where you’re going).
Like it’s not enough to battle my social insurance agency and a lot of healthcare stuff that’s about to happen, I now have to deal with this. On the positive side is that me and my partner are really supportive to one another.
Sometimes I write stuff about my love life that may seem confusing. As a matter of fact, it is confusing even to me. My relationships to other people are complicated. All of them (except for the relationship to my kid). I will probably never spell out exactly what kind of relationship I have with the one I call my partner, because I can’t. I know what I have, but just like most things regarding identity and sexuality it doesn’t match the relationship logics that I have a language for.
At some point I hope I can write a bit more about how I feel about relationships to other people. How hard I often find it to make the clear distinction between romantic love and friendship love. But right now, I need to rest. I’ve had an emotionally intense weekend and my head is boiling.
My social insurance agency is trying to find a way to not pay me anymore. Yesterday when I ended the phone call that informed me about this, I started crying. I felt like my thoughts and feelings were being thrown around inside me, impossible to grasp. Within five minutes, I had relived a lot of the fear and shame that I’ve experienced during the last six years. I guess this is what post-traumatic stress does, it sends me back to a number of very frightening situations without any notice.
Besides from worry about my financial situation, there is an equally horrible thing about this. I have to face all the times when doctors, physiotherapist, nurses, occupational therapists and psychologists made my symptoms worse with their assessments and treatments. Permanently worse. I have to face all those times when they were telling me that I interpreted myself and the world wrong. When they told me that what I was experiencing didn’t really happen. I have to face the fact that all that iatrogenic harm that I’m now living with the consequences of – it didn’t happen according to the people who should bear responsibility for it.
When I had calmed down a bit, I thought about this post about gaslighting. Because I think that one of the reasons for why being ill and disabled and going through a number of assessments and treatments has hurt me so much, is that I’ve been gaslighted all my life. As an undiagnosed autistic, people have constantly been telling me that I’m not experienceing what I’m experiencing. A quote from the post phrases this very eloquently:
Being an undiagnosed autistic can feel like the whole world is gaslighting you. From being told not to be silly, the lights aren’t hurting you, to being shouted at to pull yourself together, when you’re slipping into meltdown, you’re being told every day that your lived experience isn’t real.
This feels very important to understand in order to cope with what’s happening. It is very hard for me to deal with this kind of scrutiny that the insurance agency will put me under, because it makes old wounds start bleeding again. I still don’t know how I will get through this, but I know that reading about other autistic people’s experiences of gaslighting is helping me.