Hello again, stranger!
Haven't wandered through this landscape for a minute or 3....but have been thinking of it and you.
There has been ups and the usual downs with horrid not-so-little thugs at school making the Feral Aspie teen feel as dreadful as themselves.
With their fists and feet and name calling.
*sigh*
There were a few explody moments at home that were curtailed with great finesse and elan by yours truly.
Yes, I do fashionable interventions.
Apparently.
Much time at Dunolly of late has soothed the anxiety, brought the irritations down a few notches and slipped this thing called Life into first gear to tackle the hills.
Dunolly is filled with eccentric characters (in suburbia they'd be called weird) and there is no pressure to conform to an expected "norm" as defined by "The Beautiful People".
The Aspie teen will be warbling his bass in the Gilbert & Sullivan production of Trial by Jury - in both the celebration of the refurbished heritage-listed Court House and at the Festival in October - as well as lending a hand to renovate/complete the gorgeously splendid old Junction Hotel (with Ballroom, thankyouverymuch!).
And he'll be on hand during the weekend of the open house of said Junction Hotel (with Ballroom, thankyouverymuch!).
I may be roped into plonking my arse on an upstairs chair, in Victorian dress, to crochet and keep an eye on people wandering through (possibly the Ballroom, thankyouverymuch!).
The Feral One is happy to continue seeing his psychologist via the school; he has a great rapport with him and finds him easy to natter away with.
Something that has been worrying him is the possibility he may have Bi Polar/Personality Disorder like his older sibling, so he discussed it with the psychologist and may be assessed for it at some date in the near future.
I don't think he fits the criteria but it's a worry he has and it needs to be addressed - he has seen the mess an out of control, unmedicated person with it can experience and has a fear he may develop it as he matures.
If an assessment gives him the relief and removes all question, then it's well worth it.
IF, on the other hand, it proves he does have it then we can tackle the bumps with a better understanding and forewarning we didn't have with our other child.
Plus, the Feral Aspie is also fully aware of the need for therapy and medication, something we fruitlessly fought to achieve for his sibling.
Yes, I'm looking for silver linings just in case.
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
I iz a'scared
I'm drowning.
There is so much ready to pounce on us in the coming months it feels like everything is LOOMING over us like a teetering tower of monster blocks about to splat us under the weight.
Return to school, return to the Risperdone, Feral Aspie having anxiety attacks at Every.Little.Thing in his daily routine including using public transport and snapping his Myki card in half yet again - those suckers cost $10 a pop to replace, we've replaced 2 so far with a 3rd on the horizon cos Metcards are being phased out.
*sigh*
Return to Feral Aspie being bullied, misunderstanding others' social meanings, not hearing/processing what is said to him, getting hold of the wrong end of the stick and/or missing complete instructions from teachers.
He gets a free netbook through the school this year - I am FREAKING that he'll vague out and leave it on the bus, drop it, put it down to tie his shoelaces then walk off without it, play rugby with it (don't laugh, he played rugby while his broken arm was in a cast. And wondered why it hurt even more.It may have been the reason he had to have surgery to straighten the break.).
He turns 16 at the end of this year, which means we have to apply for adult carers allowance for him, which means we have to fill in a forest of paperwork and jump through hoops.
And plus HE'S TURNING 16.
Sixteen....SIXTEEN.
He already thinks he knows everything (yes, he does, if we're cataloguing dinosaurs, transformers, Hot Wheels cars, the family of arachnids and Minecraft).
Now there's news articles detailing how those with high functioning autism will lose their diagnosis, how Aspergers will disappear into being lumped into the autism umbrella, the scare-mongering is running rife.
In the long run there's going to be an ugly transition period where parents are going to have to fight to retain their kids original diagnosis, if only to claw back the measly few pennies they are granted to 'assist' with their child's disability.
Cos the freaking label might suddenly disappear like smoke when this new book gets published but the freaking disability doesn't.
I.Am.Drowning in a sea of anxiety, worry, panic attacks and all I can see when I try to look forward is a swirling black mess.
There is so much ready to pounce on us in the coming months it feels like everything is LOOMING over us like a teetering tower of monster blocks about to splat us under the weight.
Return to school, return to the Risperdone, Feral Aspie having anxiety attacks at Every.Little.Thing in his daily routine including using public transport and snapping his Myki card in half yet again - those suckers cost $10 a pop to replace, we've replaced 2 so far with a 3rd on the horizon cos Metcards are being phased out.
*sigh*
Return to Feral Aspie being bullied, misunderstanding others' social meanings, not hearing/processing what is said to him, getting hold of the wrong end of the stick and/or missing complete instructions from teachers.
He gets a free netbook through the school this year - I am FREAKING that he'll vague out and leave it on the bus, drop it, put it down to tie his shoelaces then walk off without it, play rugby with it (don't laugh, he played rugby while his broken arm was in a cast. And wondered why it hurt even more.It may have been the reason he had to have surgery to straighten the break.).
He turns 16 at the end of this year, which means we have to apply for adult carers allowance for him, which means we have to fill in a forest of paperwork and jump through hoops.
And plus HE'S TURNING 16.
Sixteen....SIXTEEN.
He already thinks he knows everything (yes, he does, if we're cataloguing dinosaurs, transformers, Hot Wheels cars, the family of arachnids and Minecraft).
Now there's news articles detailing how those with high functioning autism will lose their diagnosis, how Aspergers will disappear into being lumped into the autism umbrella, the scare-mongering is running rife.
In the long run there's going to be an ugly transition period where parents are going to have to fight to retain their kids original diagnosis, if only to claw back the measly few pennies they are granted to 'assist' with their child's disability.
Cos the freaking label might suddenly disappear like smoke when this new book gets published but the freaking disability doesn't.
I.Am.Drowning in a sea of anxiety, worry, panic attacks and all I can see when I try to look forward is a swirling black mess.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Let's talk about suicide
The current, long-standing argument is that we and the media shouldn't discuss it/gloss over it lest articles glamorise the act of suicide and encourages others to follow suit.
Well, guess what?
This whole not talking about it thing?
It's not working.
Both my eldest and Feral Aspie teen have depression amongst other issues and both have attempted suicide, multiple times with Feral Aspie teen, still ongoing.
We talk openly about suicide at home and how it is the need to end something in a persons life - be it an emotion, a habit, a group of friends, bullying - but actually ending the life itself is not the answer.
Did you know suicide is the leading cause of death in our youth second only to car accidents?
And how many of those car 'accidents' aren't accidents?
Which leads to asking...how many farm 'accidents' aren't accidents?
How many 'accidental over doses' aren't accidental?
How many pedestrian accidents aren't 'accidents'?
The list goes on.
Our bright young children, our future, the next generation - these are our beloved babies, those little beings we guided to adolescence with their knee scrapes, birthdays, school reports and everything in between.
And they are killing themselves.
Not talking about it hasn't stemmed the suicide numbers.
How about we try openly discussing suicide to explain that it isn't the answer to every miserable feeling, it won't cure lovesickness, that it won't change the world... that the only thing it will achieve will be to snuff out their future chances of being on top of the world...and crush those who love them.
Well, guess what?
This whole not talking about it thing?
It's not working.
Both my eldest and Feral Aspie teen have depression amongst other issues and both have attempted suicide, multiple times with Feral Aspie teen, still ongoing.
We talk openly about suicide at home and how it is the need to end something in a persons life - be it an emotion, a habit, a group of friends, bullying - but actually ending the life itself is not the answer.
Did you know suicide is the leading cause of death in our youth second only to car accidents?
And how many of those car 'accidents' aren't accidents?
Which leads to asking...how many farm 'accidents' aren't accidents?
How many 'accidental over doses' aren't accidental?
How many pedestrian accidents aren't 'accidents'?
The list goes on.
Our bright young children, our future, the next generation - these are our beloved babies, those little beings we guided to adolescence with their knee scrapes, birthdays, school reports and everything in between.
And they are killing themselves.
Not talking about it hasn't stemmed the suicide numbers.
How about we try openly discussing suicide to explain that it isn't the answer to every miserable feeling, it won't cure lovesickness, that it won't change the world... that the only thing it will achieve will be to snuff out their future chances of being on top of the world...and crush those who love them.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Invisible disabilities
I'm tired of people dismissing the 'hidden' disabilities.
I don't mean just those who don't realise a disability is present, I'm talking about those Joe Blows on the street who think they have the right to query a diagnosis.
Because, dontchaknow, they've scrubbed public toilets for years (and sandblasted god-knows-what off the toilet seats) and they KNOW about medical stuffs!
My darling Feral Aspie already has depression, on top of his other 'invisible' disabilities like autism, Aspergers, Tourettes, ADHD, OCD, anxiety, etc, without stupid strangers making him feel responsible for his behaviours.
We often get ignorant comments like "He doesn't seem that autistic," or "He seems fine to me," and even "Are you sure?".
So many times I've wanted to retort,
"Y'know, we're not sure. We have no fecking idea cos you know how all those medical specialists are, just making stuff up off the top of their heads like that every day,"
*insert wild eyeball rolling and disgusted throat noises*
And the same goes for mental illnesses.
I've had the comment of "You seem too happy to be depressed."
I've wondered if they were waiting for me to open a vein for their entertainment...you know,
"Pass the hors d' oeuvres, there'll be a blood splatter pattern on the carpet any minute..."
I've nursed hospitalised teens in the grip of a drug-induced psychosis' where parents continued to supply them with illegal drugs because "He doesn't seem that bad,".
"No, that's due to the fact he's in a freakin' hospital, under medical care where we don't administer the illegal drugs that caused the problem in the first freakin' place..."
It's one thing for a schizophrenic to feel better once medicated then think they're 'cured' and no longer need medication but when idiots question the illness they compound the pressure that person is under and, subtly, infer that the person is a liar.
One gorgeous gal I nursed was often questioned about her schizophrenia by strangers and even family members, with her parents refusing to believe she had a mental illness because,
"Who else is going to look after us in our old age?"
30 years after her initial diagnosis her tea-total father claimed it was the single snifter of sherry she had after tea each night that caused her 'problems'.
Who knew sherry was so evil?!
We need to stop this immediate distrust when someone confides their diagnosis and accept it.
Hopefully the International Day of People with a Disability will get through to some people and stop this discrimination.
Check out Rudely Interrupted, the rock band headlining Queabeyan's Festival of Ability on December 1.
Festival of Ability.
I don't mean just those who don't realise a disability is present, I'm talking about those Joe Blows on the street who think they have the right to query a diagnosis.
Because, dontchaknow, they've scrubbed public toilets for years (and sandblasted god-knows-what off the toilet seats) and they KNOW about medical stuffs!
My darling Feral Aspie already has depression, on top of his other 'invisible' disabilities like autism, Aspergers, Tourettes, ADHD, OCD, anxiety, etc, without stupid strangers making him feel responsible for his behaviours.
We often get ignorant comments like "He doesn't seem that autistic," or "He seems fine to me," and even "Are you sure?".
So many times I've wanted to retort,
"Y'know, we're not sure. We have no fecking idea cos you know how all those medical specialists are, just making stuff up off the top of their heads like that every day,"
*insert wild eyeball rolling and disgusted throat noises*
And the same goes for mental illnesses.
I've had the comment of "You seem too happy to be depressed."
I've wondered if they were waiting for me to open a vein for their entertainment...you know,
"Pass the hors d' oeuvres, there'll be a blood splatter pattern on the carpet any minute..."
I've nursed hospitalised teens in the grip of a drug-induced psychosis' where parents continued to supply them with illegal drugs because "He doesn't seem that bad,".
"No, that's due to the fact he's in a freakin' hospital, under medical care where we don't administer the illegal drugs that caused the problem in the first freakin' place..."
It's one thing for a schizophrenic to feel better once medicated then think they're 'cured' and no longer need medication but when idiots question the illness they compound the pressure that person is under and, subtly, infer that the person is a liar.
One gorgeous gal I nursed was often questioned about her schizophrenia by strangers and even family members, with her parents refusing to believe she had a mental illness because,
"Who else is going to look after us in our old age?"
30 years after her initial diagnosis her tea-total father claimed it was the single snifter of sherry she had after tea each night that caused her 'problems'.
Who knew sherry was so evil?!
We need to stop this immediate distrust when someone confides their diagnosis and accept it.
Hopefully the International Day of People with a Disability will get through to some people and stop this discrimination.
Check out Rudely Interrupted, the rock band headlining Queabeyan's Festival of Ability on December 1.
Festival of Ability.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Barefoot Beastie
I have the Feral Aspie teen at home for a few days as he has had part of his toenail permanently removed by a scalpel-wielding GP.
Thank Gawd!!!
Him being grumpy and irritable snapping "I dunno" when asked what the problem is makes for egg-shell walking at home.
Because he doesn't connect the pain in his foot with his irritable mood, being completely at odds with his emotions.
It's given him some breathing space from school, too, where he can relax and unwind, getting his head into a happier headspace before going back and managing the exams.
Which are causing all kinds of anxiety, no matter how much we reassure him.
I'm thinking the half-days he used to have as a youngster at primary school might be on our horizon, again.
With the increased heat, longer days and general angst with end of year exams, etc, I can see us bringing home a lot of his schoolwork to tackle it at home in the afternoons.
I may need to chat to the principal about part-time school and part-time homeschooling, to give Feral Aspie Beastie some time out and an escape from the bullies.
We'll see!
Thank Gawd!!!
Him being grumpy and irritable snapping "I dunno" when asked what the problem is makes for egg-shell walking at home.
Because he doesn't connect the pain in his foot with his irritable mood, being completely at odds with his emotions.
It's given him some breathing space from school, too, where he can relax and unwind, getting his head into a happier headspace before going back and managing the exams.
Which are causing all kinds of anxiety, no matter how much we reassure him.
I'm thinking the half-days he used to have as a youngster at primary school might be on our horizon, again.
With the increased heat, longer days and general angst with end of year exams, etc, I can see us bringing home a lot of his schoolwork to tackle it at home in the afternoons.
I may need to chat to the principal about part-time school and part-time homeschooling, to give Feral Aspie Beastie some time out and an escape from the bullies.
We'll see!
Friday, May 6, 2011
Day 1 of the Triffid Takeover of Mah Brain
Well, apparently I'm supposed to be feeling a tad nauseous on the new happy pills.
I was supposed to start off on half tablets due to the nausea side effects but, me being the stingy old cow that I am, I went for the cheaper version which is almost impossible to snap in half unless you have thumb nails of STEEL, baby!
So, I figured if I was gonna have my head down the S bend for half a tab I may as well go the effort for a full one.
Touch wood, fingers crossed so far no chundering on the horizon.
I don't expect to get my happy on straight away as it takes time to build up but I am pleased there's no spewy happening.
Although I've just noticed a slight metallic taste in my mouth...hmmm, may need to sort that with some morning tea.
-----------------------
As for going postal....
There's a few incidents that have been let go through to the keeper of late - cos we've been a little busy with stuffs - but I've been on the warpath and have gone a little postal on some arses.
First up is the local Woolworths store where an assistant in the liquor store accused Aspie teen of stealing a half empty bottle of cola he was currently necking after he took ONE step into the store with his father then stepped back out of the store.
Second, same store earlier this week apparently a toy rep was having a shitty day so took it out on Aspie teen who was poking the siren buttons on some Matchbox trucks (in OPEN packaging to encourage kids to poke the siren buttons, I might add) and roared at him,
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"
When he told me this last one this morning I explained that next time someone asks him such an obviously stupid bloody question to tell them his mother said to say he was knitting a damn jumper and what colour did they want theirs in.
Mamma Bear then trotted over, switched on the computer and got some phone numbers to lodge complaints - a HUGE apology from the store manager who is following it up with the liquor assistant and the toy rep. company
Also, waiting for a call back from someone else.
Which is all I'll say at this juncture as it's probably going to get really ugly, judging by past UNprofessional behaviour.
Now, some sauteed field mushrooms and tomatoes on toast for morning tea sounds perfect!
I was supposed to start off on half tablets due to the nausea side effects but, me being the stingy old cow that I am, I went for the cheaper version which is almost impossible to snap in half unless you have thumb nails of STEEL, baby!
So, I figured if I was gonna have my head down the S bend for half a tab I may as well go the effort for a full one.
Touch wood, fingers crossed so far no chundering on the horizon.
I don't expect to get my happy on straight away as it takes time to build up but I am pleased there's no spewy happening.
Although I've just noticed a slight metallic taste in my mouth...hmmm, may need to sort that with some morning tea.
-----------------------
As for going postal....
There's a few incidents that have been let go through to the keeper of late - cos we've been a little busy with stuffs - but I've been on the warpath and have gone a little postal on some arses.
First up is the local Woolworths store where an assistant in the liquor store accused Aspie teen of stealing a half empty bottle of cola he was currently necking after he took ONE step into the store with his father then stepped back out of the store.
Second, same store earlier this week apparently a toy rep was having a shitty day so took it out on Aspie teen who was poking the siren buttons on some Matchbox trucks (in OPEN packaging to encourage kids to poke the siren buttons, I might add) and roared at him,
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"
When he told me this last one this morning I explained that next time someone asks him such an obviously stupid bloody question to tell them his mother said to say he was knitting a damn jumper and what colour did they want theirs in.
Mamma Bear then trotted over, switched on the computer and got some phone numbers to lodge complaints - a HUGE apology from the store manager who is following it up with the liquor assistant and the toy rep. company
Also, waiting for a call back from someone else.
Which is all I'll say at this juncture as it's probably going to get really ugly, judging by past UNprofessional behaviour.
Now, some sauteed field mushrooms and tomatoes on toast for morning tea sounds perfect!
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Shovelling shit...again
Well, where do I start?
Start at the beginning and go until you reach the end, said the white rabbit to Alice...or some bizarre anthropomorphized critter.
So, crap just keeps on piling up and I just keep on shovelling it away but it gets a little freakin exhausting, ya know?
Dad died.
So the grief has given the Aspie teen full reign to smash the house, and us, to smithereens - yes, we did have a few intact walls and holes had been repaired but... no more.
We won't mention the extensive bruises or hanks of hair ripped from my skull or the love affair The Spouse and I are conducting with super strength pain relief tablets.
Oops, seems I did mention it...never mind, just move along, nothing to see folks, just another recurring train wreck.
*sigh*
We have no toilet door as he kicked a great hole in it which we replaced with a curtain which he has now ripped down while punching a massive hole in the plaster wall of the loo.
I can recommend this for BRACING fresh WINTER air, particularly in the smelliest room in the house after a male teen has perched on the throne for ever and a day but... it's just a tad drastic.
Try opening a window, way easier.
He managed to rip open the PADLOCKED shed door...yes, it was fully secured with BOLT and PADLOCK...but he merely wrenched it open without batting an eyelid and grabbed the steel hammers one of which he managed to throw through the (weakened from much smashing of aforementioned hammer) flywire on the security door and it smashed into the back of my hand.
Fortunately....as it would have hit me fair square in the chest otherwise.
Quietly thanking my poor, battered right hand for being in the way.
When he came into the house armed with the shovel all I could think,
"Well, he's really gonna make us dig our own holes before he buries us in the vegie patch...I could have sworn we had plenty of fertiliser without the need to do us in."
Yes, bizarre thoughts trot gaily through the space optimistically called my mind.
Mind?
What the heck is that, again?
I think I lost it somewhere around the 7th useless specialist we saw...
I snapped the head off a smart mouthed receptionist who told me I couldn't get in to see my lovely lady gp until next Monday.
Somehow I managed to refrain from telling her I would probably have done something drastic well before then and not to bother but when I asked if it was possible to get in to see ANY of the doctors I think she realised I wasn't asking just to hear the sound of my own voice...that I might actually have a genuine need to see someone-anyone-please-even-if-it's-the-freaking-witch-doctor-who-can't-speak-freaking-English-they-keep-out-the-back-in-case-of-emergencies.
You know, it's probably a good idea to go see a doctor when the valium doesn't make a dint.
When the meditation doesn't help, when you flinch and tense up each time your own child thumps into a room.
Cos he thumps mostly whenever he walks so it's hard to tell beforehand if he's tired, upset or about to unleash a total nuclear meltdown on humanity.
Us being the first line in defence of humanity...although, strangely, we're not on the ADF payroll.
Wonder who I speak to about that...?
Some doctors are horrified at the types and amount of medication he is on.
I'm simply horrified that the fucking things don't make any difference some days.
And, while I'm on a ranty roll, let me tell you I'm pretty fucking miffed some specialists think it's ok we get to 'manage' a disabled, brain damaged super-strong person in full psychotic flight 24/7 with NO FREAKING FUNDING WHATSOEVER yet some are aghast that parents can homeschool without 'proving' themselves on a weekly basis.
Seriously?
I mean....WTF, are you freaking SERIOUS!?
Let this kid loose in a temper in Afghanistan and he'll clean up the freakin Taliban bastards in no time.
But God freaking forbid he hasn't been made to sit down in a classroom to have 'real' schooling.
Um, yeah.
Thank fluck I got in to see my lovely lady gp.
Now, where did I put the shit shovel......
Start at the beginning and go until you reach the end, said the white rabbit to Alice...or some bizarre anthropomorphized critter.
So, crap just keeps on piling up and I just keep on shovelling it away but it gets a little freakin exhausting, ya know?
Dad died.
So the grief has given the Aspie teen full reign to smash the house, and us, to smithereens - yes, we did have a few intact walls and holes had been repaired but... no more.
We won't mention the extensive bruises or hanks of hair ripped from my skull or the love affair The Spouse and I are conducting with super strength pain relief tablets.
Oops, seems I did mention it...never mind, just move along, nothing to see folks, just another recurring train wreck.
*sigh*
We have no toilet door as he kicked a great hole in it which we replaced with a curtain which he has now ripped down while punching a massive hole in the plaster wall of the loo.
I can recommend this for BRACING fresh WINTER air, particularly in the smelliest room in the house after a male teen has perched on the throne for ever and a day but... it's just a tad drastic.
Try opening a window, way easier.
He managed to rip open the PADLOCKED shed door...yes, it was fully secured with BOLT and PADLOCK...but he merely wrenched it open without batting an eyelid and grabbed the steel hammers one of which he managed to throw through the (weakened from much smashing of aforementioned hammer) flywire on the security door and it smashed into the back of my hand.
Fortunately....as it would have hit me fair square in the chest otherwise.
Quietly thanking my poor, battered right hand for being in the way.
When he came into the house armed with the shovel all I could think,
"Well, he's really gonna make us dig our own holes before he buries us in the vegie patch...I could have sworn we had plenty of fertiliser without the need to do us in."
Yes, bizarre thoughts trot gaily through the space optimistically called my mind.
Mind?
What the heck is that, again?
I think I lost it somewhere around the 7th useless specialist we saw...
I snapped the head off a smart mouthed receptionist who told me I couldn't get in to see my lovely lady gp until next Monday.
Somehow I managed to refrain from telling her I would probably have done something drastic well before then and not to bother but when I asked if it was possible to get in to see ANY of the doctors I think she realised I wasn't asking just to hear the sound of my own voice...that I might actually have a genuine need to see someone-anyone-please-even-if-it's-the-freaking-witch-doctor-who-can't-speak-freaking-English-they-keep-out-the-back-in-case-of-emergencies.
You know, it's probably a good idea to go see a doctor when the valium doesn't make a dint.
When the meditation doesn't help, when you flinch and tense up each time your own child thumps into a room.
Cos he thumps mostly whenever he walks so it's hard to tell beforehand if he's tired, upset or about to unleash a total nuclear meltdown on humanity.
Us being the first line in defence of humanity...although, strangely, we're not on the ADF payroll.
Wonder who I speak to about that...?
Some doctors are horrified at the types and amount of medication he is on.
I'm simply horrified that the fucking things don't make any difference some days.
And, while I'm on a ranty roll, let me tell you I'm pretty fucking miffed some specialists think it's ok we get to 'manage' a disabled, brain damaged super-strong person in full psychotic flight 24/7 with NO FREAKING FUNDING WHATSOEVER yet some are aghast that parents can homeschool without 'proving' themselves on a weekly basis.
Seriously?
I mean....WTF, are you freaking SERIOUS!?
Let this kid loose in a temper in Afghanistan and he'll clean up the freakin Taliban bastards in no time.
But God freaking forbid he hasn't been made to sit down in a classroom to have 'real' schooling.
Um, yeah.
Thank fluck I got in to see my lovely lady gp.
Now, where did I put the shit shovel......
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Battle of the Blogger Butts - new challenge, have a go!
Again.
Not that I've actually been off a weight loss kick but with so much support and encouragement from other blogging gals I hope to be able to shift some weight and keep it off.
I eat healthy, we all do, but there are times when a day has been just too freaking exhausting or I'm in brain fartage overload and I do the whole comfort food thing.
Cos I can.
Cos when each day slides into the next like Groundhog Day with Aspie teen's anger, fury and, overall, disappointment tainting every.single.thing with bitterness, the whole comfort food thing seems pretty harmless.
Until the scales start screaming in protest and the XXXL clothes are snug and you don't recognise yourself in a shop window...then the whole bitter disappointment thing starts up again and the comfort food seems so innocuous...
With optimism of a brand new year buoying me up I'm hoping to carve some of the beef off this carcass.
Although I'd love to I'm not attending the Aussie Bloggers Conference like most of the others taking on the Battle of the Bloggers Butts (too much hassle with Aspie teen, my vision and Meniere's Syndrome) but I hope I can offer support and encouragement to the other gals embarking on this challenge.
Go check it out HERE, give it a go, heck what have any of us got to lose except some unwanted weight?!
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Not funny
Goodness gracious me!
Well, with the power of Mummy bloggers we got our message across that jokes at the expense of those on the Autistic Spectrum are not ok.
Channel 10 issued an apology while trying to claim that the host of the show attempted to stop the jokes yet they seemed to have forgotten another regular also made a joke about autism.
Hmmm, short memories in television but not here.
Now, there are forums filled to bursting with people arguing back and forth about how they are on the Spectrum and they didn't find it offensive, others are calling us 'precious' and thin skinned, even more are agreeing that it wasn't funny, it was offensive, etc, etc, etc.
They'll go on and on, like a cat chasing its tail because each will refuse to see the other person's side of the argument.
Such is the power of anonymity on the net.
Here is my argument as to why those jokes were offensive -
The social inhibitions, the moral compass most of us have inside us is willfully ignored by idiots who see these 'jokes' by media personalities as a free pass to perform their own brand of 'humour' on others who are unable to defend themselves.
How often have you yourself asked someone to stop doing something that was annoying/upsetting you only for them to play the "It was only a joke" get-out-of-gaol-free card?
Just as I found Eddie and Mick Malloy's comments about the male ice skaters at the Winter Olympics offensive - because they are media personalities and those comments are seen as a passport to vilifying members of the LGBT community.
Eddie has had the good grace to recognise the high incidence of bullying, mental illness and suicide in same-sex attracted youth but I think it's too much to hope for Paul McDermott and Mikey Robbins to acknowledge the high rate of bullying, depression and risk of suicide associated with those on the Spectrum.
Cos it's just not funny.
Well, with the power of Mummy bloggers we got our message across that jokes at the expense of those on the Autistic Spectrum are not ok.
Channel 10 issued an apology while trying to claim that the host of the show attempted to stop the jokes yet they seemed to have forgotten another regular also made a joke about autism.
Hmmm, short memories in television but not here.
Now, there are forums filled to bursting with people arguing back and forth about how they are on the Spectrum and they didn't find it offensive, others are calling us 'precious' and thin skinned, even more are agreeing that it wasn't funny, it was offensive, etc, etc, etc.
They'll go on and on, like a cat chasing its tail because each will refuse to see the other person's side of the argument.
Such is the power of anonymity on the net.
Here is my argument as to why those jokes were offensive -
Because dickheads see this as permission to bully, under the guise of 'humour', those on the Spectrum.
Pure and simple.The social inhibitions, the moral compass most of us have inside us is willfully ignored by idiots who see these 'jokes' by media personalities as a free pass to perform their own brand of 'humour' on others who are unable to defend themselves.
How often have you yourself asked someone to stop doing something that was annoying/upsetting you only for them to play the "It was only a joke" get-out-of-gaol-free card?
Just as I found Eddie and Mick Malloy's comments about the male ice skaters at the Winter Olympics offensive - because they are media personalities and those comments are seen as a passport to vilifying members of the LGBT community.
Eddie has had the good grace to recognise the high incidence of bullying, mental illness and suicide in same-sex attracted youth but I think it's too much to hope for Paul McDermott and Mikey Robbins to acknowledge the high rate of bullying, depression and risk of suicide associated with those on the Spectrum.
Cos it's just not funny.
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