Hello my lovely Bloggy friends,
I have a story to tell about a mouse, this is not a cute little story it’s actually quite gross. But it was the only way I could explain to Mr Locoman exactly what has been going on with me over the last few days.
So let me begin…
Back when *CAL was about 4 years old and *AJ was 11 our home was very different. We hadn’t had the extension built and we had a utility room with a corridor that led to an outside toilet. Our home is a typical British 1930’s, brick built, semi-detached. The corridor was freezing but we put a heater out there and used the space for toy storage and it was also pussy cat heaven.
I’ve set the scene, now for the story
*AJ had a thing about board games, so I supplied plenty. Charity shops are so good for board games, especially just before Christmas. We had floor to ceiling shelving and plenty of room for his board games and *CAL’s many boxes of toddler toys.
One morning Mr Locoman said to me, “There is a terrible smell in the utility room, it smells like poo but I can’t see any cat poo anywhere.” So we both go out there to investigate and move all the toys and shelving, we then disinfect EVERYWHERE. We put new bedding in the cat baskets and really couldn’t figure out where this smell was coming from at all. The smell persisted for about a week or so, it was horrible, what made things worse was the only toilet we had back then was the one at the end of this corridor. We thought it might have been a broken sewer pipe running under the floor. Then one day the smell just disappeared and we thought no more about it.
Now for the gross bit
Back then one of my closest friends was my sister in law. My brother’s children are a similar age to *CAL and the “A” word had not risen at this point. My SIL would come round once a week with *CAL’s little cousins for a play date and we would catch up over coffee. Each week I would let the kids take a turn to choose the toy. This particular week it was *H’s turn and he picked a toy *CAL never bothered with. A box full of happy street that had belonged to *AJ. I carried the box in from the utility room and got them all excited about building a track and told them we could get all the Hot Wheels down from *AJ’s bedroom too. I tipped the happy street out onto the carpet and there before my eyes, in full view for everyone, one of my cats hunted prizes. It was stuck to a piece of track, it’s guts hanging out and a few maggots too just to give the full visual. Yes…A very, very dead and decomposing mouse.
I could have died of embarrassment
My sister in law was horrified as was I. The kids thought it was a new toy that had been put in the wrong box. I screamed, “DON’T TOUCH IT, DON’T TOUCH IT!!!! DIRTY, DIRTY, DIRTY!!!” Quickly throwing everything back into the box AND the dead mouse in a carrier bag. Then running up stairs to throw the track, cars and plastic people into a bath full of bleach.
So what is my point?
Sometimes my meltdowns and shutdowns, my overwhelming emotions, fears and anxieties make absolutely no sense WHAT.SO.EVER. It’s like that bad smell, it doesn’t matter how hard I try to figure me out I can’t find the root. All I can do is put it down to triggers that set a recognition off that I have either forgotten or totally blocked from my memory. It’s like it is hiden, but my body goes into reaction (like with the smell) protection, fear. I don’t know it is happening until it is happening.
The good thing is though
Through learning about my Aspieness I now allow myself to express in whatever way I can. I paint, I write, I allow myself to stim, I allow myself to cry and even scream if I need to. No more of the rerun in my head saying, “If you don’t stop crying for nothing, I’ll give you something to cry for!” I can express my emotions even though I can’t always place them. I’ve given myself permission to be me. Most of the time I am able to take myself to my quiet place where I can be me and not affect anyone else. I know now that I am on the Spectrum, I’m not evil and I don’t mean any harm to anyone. I’m just trying to make sense of this world the best way I can.
I can be ready and waiting for the mouse.
However ugly the memory, I can release the emotions and give them to God.
I can be real, I can be me and I know I am loved.
Love and hugs.
Lisa. xx 🙂
1 Peter 5:6-7 (AMP)
Therefore humble yourselves [demote, lower yourselves in your own estimation] under the mighty hand of God, that in due time He may exalt you,
Casting the whole of your care [all your anxieties, all your worries, all your concerns, once and for all] on Him, for He cares for you affectionately and cares about you watchfully.
And just because I’m in a mouse kind of mood.
Here is an old tune I remember singing as a child.