The continual re-defining of self
Dec. 11th, 2009 10:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
soc_puppetFirst part of the post is going to get introspective and rambly, so I'm cutting it for those who would rather skip that sort of thing.
It also goes a bit into my bad afternoon, and an aspect of myself I'm finally claiming. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can't say I blame you; it's something I've been working on myself, more fervently so over the past year-and-a-half-ish. If you do decide to read it, I can only hope I come across as positively as I wish to.
Today I have come to accept the fact that I am a person with a disability.
I have mild ADHD. I have an anxiety disorder. And I suffer panic attacks.
My panic attacks are similar to "normal" panic attacks in that they are extreme reactions to what I perceive as a bad/inescapable situation, but differ in that they involve uncontrollable crying. That is, I am unable to control my tears until I am given a way to control the bad situation, or an alternative to said situation. Frequently, continuing to think about said situation, or participating in an event linked to said situation can act as a continuing trigger for my attacks.
I can remember having panic attacks for nearly all of my life, just as I can trace my anxiety back that far. I can remember crying when confronted with bad situations, and becoming unable to think of a good way out of them on my own. I remember being called a "crybaby," my father saying that I "cried at the drop of a hat," teachers telling me to stop crying so much. I remember having an attack during sixth grade, pushed by schoolmates, and the school counselor offering me help - which, at the time, I refused. I remember having an attack while giving a presentation in junior high, and then being called to the counselor there the next day, and trying to explain that, yes, there were things going on at home (we had just moved, Mom was undergoing treatment for breast cancer, school was new and scary even though it was the same school I'd have gone to anyway had we not moved), but that was not what made me cry - and then figuring out that it was just easier to use the excuse they thought better fit Occam's Razor. I remember crying quietly as possible so as not to attract attention to it, and washing my face in the bathroom.
And still I did not consider myself disabled, because, until today, my panic attacks did not prevent me from doing what I perceived as my job.
(This is my perception of disability and how it applies to me. For people other than me, I will use the marker they choose to identify with.)
This afternoon, only a short time into my route - before I had managed to pick up any of the kids from school, even - I had an attack bad enough that I did not feel I could continue to drive safely. I was unable to control my crying, which would have an averse effect on the kids' moods, and would also keep me from making out the road clearly, something essential in a snowy winter. I had to call in to base for someone to replace me, and beg out of STOP classes as well, since they were one of the triggers of my attack.
What's changed now? Honestly, I haven't thought about it too deeply yet; I've still got lingering "leave me alone/don't make me do stuff" left over from this afternoon's attack, and am not quite sure where to start - other than this:
I fit into my self-defined category of disabled now. If nothing else, I can own the word.
I've got other stuff to do in relation to this, including figuring out a good response to "[Try to] stop worrying about it"*, and working out more strategies to deal with it**. But that can wait until tomorrow, at least. Tonight, I can spend the time getting back to healthy***.
* "Tell a fish to stop swimming," maybe? "Would you ask a paraplegic person to walk?" perhaps? Hmm.
** Time to face facts! The anxiety is never going away for good. I can better control it with medication and coping strategies (deep breathing and such), but that "Imagine a day without fear" that my therapist once suggested is an inconvenient fantasy: a nice idea, but trying to get there will likely only circumvent any progress I could make on actually dealing with my anxiety and panic attacks in the first place.
*** Here not meaning magically un-disabled, but getting back to a place where I can actually work with my disability again.
----
Stuff!
1) Have been watching Supernatural. Am quite enjoying it so far, but Dean's bouts of misogyny bug the shit outta me. I find myself wanting to step through the screen and give him a point-by-point lecture on feminism and not treating women as objects/lesser beings more frequently than I would like =_=a Is this part/most of the reported racism/sexism thing the show has going on that I'm noticing, or is there way more to it?
2) This is an absolutely adorable photo set.
3) Camera users! (I'm looking at you,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ytak!) Kodak is made of win and super-awesome. Also, it is -so- beautiful to see the "I'm sorry you're offended" non-apology used in our favor for once, instead of as a way to shut us up. Go read it for that, if nothing else.
That's all for now :3b Mononoke Girls' Academy fics up tomorrow, hopefully.
It also goes a bit into my bad afternoon, and an aspect of myself I'm finally claiming. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can't say I blame you; it's something I've been working on myself, more fervently so over the past year-and-a-half-ish. If you do decide to read it, I can only hope I come across as positively as I wish to.
Today I have come to accept the fact that I am a person with a disability.
I have mild ADHD. I have an anxiety disorder. And I suffer panic attacks.
My panic attacks are similar to "normal" panic attacks in that they are extreme reactions to what I perceive as a bad/inescapable situation, but differ in that they involve uncontrollable crying. That is, I am unable to control my tears until I am given a way to control the bad situation, or an alternative to said situation. Frequently, continuing to think about said situation, or participating in an event linked to said situation can act as a continuing trigger for my attacks.
I can remember having panic attacks for nearly all of my life, just as I can trace my anxiety back that far. I can remember crying when confronted with bad situations, and becoming unable to think of a good way out of them on my own. I remember being called a "crybaby," my father saying that I "cried at the drop of a hat," teachers telling me to stop crying so much. I remember having an attack during sixth grade, pushed by schoolmates, and the school counselor offering me help - which, at the time, I refused. I remember having an attack while giving a presentation in junior high, and then being called to the counselor there the next day, and trying to explain that, yes, there were things going on at home (we had just moved, Mom was undergoing treatment for breast cancer, school was new and scary even though it was the same school I'd have gone to anyway had we not moved), but that was not what made me cry - and then figuring out that it was just easier to use the excuse they thought better fit Occam's Razor. I remember crying quietly as possible so as not to attract attention to it, and washing my face in the bathroom.
And still I did not consider myself disabled, because, until today, my panic attacks did not prevent me from doing what I perceived as my job.
(This is my perception of disability and how it applies to me. For people other than me, I will use the marker they choose to identify with.)
This afternoon, only a short time into my route - before I had managed to pick up any of the kids from school, even - I had an attack bad enough that I did not feel I could continue to drive safely. I was unable to control my crying, which would have an averse effect on the kids' moods, and would also keep me from making out the road clearly, something essential in a snowy winter. I had to call in to base for someone to replace me, and beg out of STOP classes as well, since they were one of the triggers of my attack.
What's changed now? Honestly, I haven't thought about it too deeply yet; I've still got lingering "leave me alone/don't make me do stuff" left over from this afternoon's attack, and am not quite sure where to start - other than this:
I fit into my self-defined category of disabled now. If nothing else, I can own the word.
I've got other stuff to do in relation to this, including figuring out a good response to "[Try to] stop worrying about it"*, and working out more strategies to deal with it**. But that can wait until tomorrow, at least. Tonight, I can spend the time getting back to healthy***.
* "Tell a fish to stop swimming," maybe? "Would you ask a paraplegic person to walk?" perhaps? Hmm.
** Time to face facts! The anxiety is never going away for good. I can better control it with medication and coping strategies (deep breathing and such), but that "Imagine a day without fear" that my therapist once suggested is an inconvenient fantasy: a nice idea, but trying to get there will likely only circumvent any progress I could make on actually dealing with my anxiety and panic attacks in the first place.
*** Here not meaning magically un-disabled, but getting back to a place where I can actually work with my disability again.
----
Stuff!
1) Have been watching Supernatural. Am quite enjoying it so far, but Dean's bouts of misogyny bug the shit outta me. I find myself wanting to step through the screen and give him a point-by-point lecture on feminism and not treating women as objects/lesser beings more frequently than I would like =_=a Is this part/most of the reported racism/sexism thing the show has going on that I'm noticing, or is there way more to it?
2) This is an absolutely adorable photo set.
3) Camera users! (I'm looking at you,
ytak!) Kodak is made of win and super-awesome. Also, it is -so- beautiful to see the "I'm sorry you're offended" non-apology used in our favor for once, instead of as a way to shut us up. Go read it for that, if nothing else.That's all for now :3b Mononoke Girls' Academy fics up tomorrow, hopefully.
no subject
Date: 2009-12-14 03:12 am (UTC)I believe this is one of the situations for which the term "Lolsob" is appropriate =_=a (I'm not too far in, just eight episodes or so; I usually watch in big chunks.) It's nice to hear that it's at least willing to admit to its flaws, but it's kinda useless if it doesn't (can't?) do anything about it. Not that I'm going to give up on it just yet, but still.