Tag Archives: Therapy

Autism-Adjacent, Part Two: Hopefully a Conclusion

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I have to begin this post with an apology. I haven’t been ignoring you all, It’s been a helluva roller coaster ride with health issues around here. Enough for a completely different post…

So, now where did I leave off…? Oh, yeah. The BIG, BAD DIAGNOSIS!

To be absolutely honest, I was aware of this “condition.” I’ve known since childhood. Thing is, I also honestly thought it didn’t fit me anymore. Like I grew out of it or something.

I guess not.

I was too ashamed to admit this publicly at first. It’s just embarrassing, especially as it’s not a “real” diagnosis. If you ask me, it ought to be. It’s every bit as difficult, socially and mentally, as the two (or more) conditions its related to. Problem is that, much like autism, people who don’t have the condition would never believe it. The bullying alone is damaging enough.

Granted, there are a lot of my “side conditions” that haven’t got much at all to do with the BIG diagnosis. Then again, there are definitely some that came right from it or were indirectly a cause. Like my anxiety, for instance. I do still believe I was genetically more vulnerable to that. However, my Mom had been badly bullied as a child and so was incredibly worried about me when it started to affect me as early as Kindergarten. So, what did she do? Like anyone trying to protect a child, she helicoptered. She and the mother of a friend of mine who was also a bullying victim, started a Brownie group. She was a room mother at my school. She was constantly watching me out the kitchen window unless I was at someone else’s house. I had very strict rules as far as where I was allowed to go and when, and even in the summer we were in the house after dinner, which was at the ridiculously early hour of 4 pm. Those are just examples, of course. There was so much, much more. But in understanding her, I can’t blame her. I just focus on my own healing.

So, what on EARTH is the big, bad diagnosis?

Well, this Venn Diagram is it. Yep. I’m not Autistic. It’s not ADHD, it’s not even OCD which is another affiliated condition (although I do have many similarities with that one, too…dammit.)

No, I’m GIFTED. WTF. Seriously. This is another one of those situations where people who have no idea what this means think it’s a “good” condition. Take a look at this diagram, though. Good? No. Honestly. It’s like people who have been plagued by the dead since they were children which is also called a “gift.” If you’ve ever met someone who encountered these Spirits as children, I’d say I doubt that it’s a gift. Seems more often to be a curse to those who suffer with it. And it’s the same thing with me. If you think being a teacher’s pet is hard, imagine what the entire school knowing your “gifted” does. It ain’t no fun, I’ll tell you that.

And although I know all that having lived with it all my life, it’s something I did start beginning to believe I’d grown out of it. Everyone else in the world had somehow caught up to me, I was completely normal. I don’t know. Maybe that was my self-defense system finally kicking in. Unfortunately, one of the major differences between gifted and autism is in the realm of emotion. My emotions are…insanely intense. INSANELY. I can’t hold them in, I can’t pretend I feel differently, I’ve never had to “mask” to fake emotions but damn straight I wish I’d been able to mask to hide my emotions.

That just made the bullying worse. When a bully smells blood in the water like that, they don’t stop, they beat harder. Then, to complicate things even further, I had no understanding from my home life. I was constantly told to toughen up, it wasn’t that big a deal, fight back with words. Granted, my words are one of my strongest weapons, but have I mentioned I don’t “fight or flight?” Nope. I “freeze or fawn.” That makes it DAMN hard to think quick and fight back with words or not.

Things were briefly better for me in Junior High as I had a large group of “outcast” friends. We looked out for each other. Three of them had been in my grade school class with me. Which was, btw, for “gifted children.”

My husband and his brother were in that class with me as well. 😉

The additional complication that gifted people have, above and beyond the symptoms and the bullying, is the profound feeling of failure and depression that occurs. No matter what you do or where you are in life, you’re not up to the expectations everyone placed on you as a gifted child. My life hasn’t been easy because of that. I expected the absolutely best just like everyone else did for me. At the end of the day, however, I failed at working, I failed at finances, I failed at a business, and to add salt to the wound (womb?) we were unable to have children making me a failure at even being a woman, a very basic thing. Maybe even the most basic. On top of all the oddities and eccentricities in my behavior that put the target on my back, the expectations of myself and others caused a lot of mental anguish. But, you know, I wasn’t supposed to actually show those feelings.

If you’re wondering, yes, you can have more than one condition the answer is, “yes”. Some of you might be even more complicated than you knew. It’s kind of hard-to-find resources online about adult gifted people. There are a few books on the subject, but to be honest I haven’t read any of them yet, so I can’t honestly recommend them. When I do, I’ll be sure to share them here.

And here we are at over 1000 words again. I told you my words are my weapons! Feel free to ask me anything you want. I guess it’s out on the table for the world to see now. Therapy is very helpful for this. My self-esteem is slowly coming back, my anxiety is slowly receding, and I’m starting to understand the things that trigger me. I can’t say that I have embraced being “gifted,” as I don’t know that I feel gifted yet.

I guess that’s the next mountain to climb.

And I don’t usually say this, but “likes” and comments would be warmly welcomed. This is probably the hardest blog I’ve written yet.

~*~ Camylleon~*~

Autism-Adjacent, part One

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I believe I’ve made a few references to my mental health battles here. Maybe not much specifically, but little hints here and there. Some might have assumed these were jokes but I assure you, they’re not. 🙂 With that in mind, I figure I might want to actually explain what that journey has entailed.

I can’t believe I made it this far into my life without therapy, honestly. The first time I saw my primary care doctor, which is going on 6 or 7 years now, she immediately had the nurse drag in the EKG chart and hook me up; my heart was racing that badly. Panic attack? Likely, only I didn’t know what that was. I mean, how do you explain what that feels like to someone who has never had one? They’re all so individual or at least can be. I now know that one of my reactions is a throbbing in my lower back, and sometimes the entire world turns yellow. No one’s ever said anything about panic attacks like that to me.

I thought it was a heart attack. Kinda glad it was “only” a panic attack.

One of the many traumas in my life that I’ve had to deal with is one I’m sure many, many women will relate to. Horrible doctors that minimally don’t listen and maximally berate you, or worse. I hadn’t had a decent doctor who listened in ages at this point, aside from the doctor at that practice who had moved on and abandoned me, and I’d only seen him for about 2 years.

Needless to say, when my PCP got the test results from the EKG and I broke down in tears, she sat down to talk to me. I bawled and explained that I felt like I had some sort of medical PTSD. When I first attempted to get my neuropathy diagnosed (I was pretty sure by this point I knew what it was), the first doctor didn’t even look at my feet or send me to a specialist or anything but write me a couple of prescriptions. The second doctor had told me there was a 40% chance we’d never know what was wrong with my feet, but when I asked about a specialist, she said there wasn’t any need for that.

Right.

But finally, I found a doctor (female, of course) who was listening to me. Not only did she write me my first prescription for anxiety medication, and send me to a therapist, but she also sent me immediately to someone when I complained of menstrual issues. The absolutely WONDERFUL (female) doctor I saw for that caught the endometrial cancer and sent me to a WONDERFUL gynecological oncologist who got me in for surgery 5 days after I saw her with the diagnosis. 5 years later, I’m still clean, and I hope to stay that way.

Long way around, I’m sure, but that’s the background for how I finally got help.

As you can see, and probably know, or at least likely can understand, some of my issues were caused by direct circumstances. Attending what should have been a fairly normal, mainstream church during a particularly fervent Charismatic Movement messed me up, sure. But when combined with an authoritarian father who was really a Baptist in Episcopalian clothes and my innate need for his approval, well, it did double damage. They either refer to that as religious trauma or sometimes religious PTSD. I’ve got issues, like many people, because of bullying throughout my public-school career. Anxiety, just a touch of OCD, social anxiety to the point of avoidant personality disorder, and a little privacy issue. Just a little. Yeah, there’s event-based damage that I can track back, and have traced some of it.

But then, there seem to be issues that were just always there. I wrote on the wall inside my mom’s closet “why doesn’t anyone love me” when I was six. I remember getting stomachaches and not wanting to go to school in kindergarten. I used to hide in my closet to be alone, to the point my parents would freak out and start looking for me. Something was going on genetically, I assumed.

After a false start with a therapist who sucked, at least for me, I ended up with the person I see now who is phenomenal. Perfect for me. Grew up in the same town as I did, even knew some of the same people although she’s a few years older. Her sister was a Wiccan and into ghost hunting, so she knows what I’m talking about in the largest and most important parts of my life. Also, that same sister who unfortunately departed the mortal plane too soon, was trans. She gets my life, my point-of view. I don’t worry about judgment. Phew.

So, the time came when I had a question to ask her. I’d been on TikTok (bad idea, btw), and seen many, many, many people discussing being autistic. I’d picked up a lot, but at the same time many of those people were self-diagnosed. No judgment there, because I understand how hard it is for most people to get therapy and treatment for their mental health. Self-diagnosis is often all they’ve got.

At the same time, I wasn’t sure then, how accurate they were. I had so many “symptoms” that were similar to autism. SO FREAKING MANY!!! Hyperfixations, anyone? I’ve got my share and then some. I’ve been studying cults and religion since grade school. If you want a good genealogist, find someone with a hyperfixation, you won’t regret it. I am amazing at research. If I want to know something, I will not stop until I do. All the food I hate is because of the texture. I will not wear polyester, and you can’t make me. The feel of that is just…slimy…I’m cringing even thinking about it. And of course, there’s more.

When I brought that up to my therapist she smiled broadly, which did worry me slightly, I’ll admit. But she said, “you’re ready for your diagnosis.”

OMG, I’m over 1000 words already! Since attention spans are so small these days, I guess I’ll have to put the rest in a part two. See you there!

Open Acts of Rebellion

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Yes, that’s right, I’m dipping my toe back into politics again. The times being as they are, I’m particularly angry at the patriarchy. Well, more than normal. More than before the elections. Gee, I wonder why. (Obvious sarcasm is obvious) So this is a warning that if politics aren’t your thing, you might not want to stick around. Also, this post will most definitely appeal more to women, both cis and trans, and some of our fluid friends, and less-so to those concretely cis or trans male. There will also be mentions, likely brief, of my own mental health journey. You have been warned! 

I’m pretty sure that I’ve mentioned, a few times, that I have some neurodivergence issues as well as anxiety and a whole mess of other fun stuff running around in my head. Some of it was a result of bullying and, well, parental issues. Most people can relate to all that, I’m sure. One of the side-effects was an absolutely abysmal self-esteem.

When I say abysmal, I mean I told my therapist I hate my face, and I meant it.

I’ve learned a bit about my dysfunctions now, and I’ve taken some steps to work on it. As progress came around and I stopped hating my face and moved into at least tolerating it, I started thinking about cosmetics.

There were a few other coincidental things that happened at the same time, like the mention of different influencers by someone I was already watching. Coincidence or divine intervention? Probably both, given my life.

You might have noticed, also, that a whole mess of people, mostly identifying as women, have been sporting bright red lipstick. When I looked into it, I found the rumor? Urban myth? That Hitler hated red lipstick and so it was considered patriotic during the WWII era.

AOC is one of the most well-known women with red lips these days aside from Taylor Swift. I’d have added her picture, but I don’t want to get sued!

Now, I can see that as a definite possibility as to why it’s popular now. But honestly, it’s a lot more complicated than that. Most things are, aren’t they?

So, as it turns out, nope. Hitler didn’t actually care about red lipstick in particular That was, and is, a myth.

However, its complicated, amirite? First off, red lipstick was one of the first lipsticks ever created. The Egyptians rocked it, for Pete’s sake.

As far as the “Western” (aka “white”) world goes, lipstick was “created” (because everything we ever do is new) so the man’s lips could be seen in all that hair when beards were all the rage. And because the male ego is so fragile in our patriarchy, they stopped using it as soon as women did, just like high heels and the color pink. Wimps.

Women have been fighting the patriarchy about makeup ever since. It was considered very naughty, like wearing pants, drinking, and smoking. We weren’t supposed to do it. Good girls didn’t. Like we weren’t supposed to have jobs, vote, or think. Let’s face it, that idea has survived through centuries now. Hell, I remember calling red lipstick “FMR” when I was in high school; “f*ck me red.” Good girls didn’t.

Thankfully, some of us didn’t listen.

During the suffragist movements of the early 1900s, red lipstick came out as a power move, a method of rebellion, of not taking the direction of men anymore. As far as “Christian western” civilization goes, that was the beginning.

If you’re thing is history and makeup, this channel is the BOMB. (Did I just date myself? Probably. *shrug*)

As Erin says in the video above, Hitler didn’t care. It cracks me up that Ava Braun had a tube of “Montezuma Red” on her dressing table, because the truth of WWII is that red lipstick was used against women. It was less about being patriotic or fighting Fascism, and more about being beautiful to maintain the men’s morale. Eye candy. Great. That kind of takes the entire point of the power of red lipstick away.

But let’s take another look at history, and culture right here. As much as Hitler didn’t hate red lipstick, it wasn’t encouraged for the most part. Women aside from those close to positions of power, were wearing the “natural look.” Women who wore makeup were considered cheap or tacky or, heaven forbid, “whores.” Sound familiar? Yeah, I’ve heard the same BS coming out of the mouths of MAGA members and incel trolls on the internet. It’s come around again. Watch a few tutorials or walk around a cosmetics counter or aisle. Neutral, neutral, neutral. BORING and neutral has been the theme as of late.

If I ever see another neutral palette, I will not be responsible for my actions.

Also on the Internet, we have such a selection of Trad Wives to follow. Good girls, at home, baking bread and caring for their 15 million children. Straight out of Handmaid’s Tale, I swear. How are they dressed? No pants for the most part, neat, tidy, conservative, with no cleavage at all showing, and barely a shoulder or knee to be seen. Just like the Hitler Women.

The truth is that cults always control what is worn by its members. FLDS and their prairie dresses, Hare Krishnas with their saffron robes, Scientology with their imitation naval uniforms are all fine examples of wardrobe control in action. There are thousands more from more mainstream cults like Mormons all the way up to the far out of reality ones like Heaven’s Gate. Sometimes it’s a law and enforced, sometimes it’s a culture that’s readily adapted and accepted, but it’s almost always there.

It’s one of the ways those in power force us to walk in step.

And so, here is my decision. It’s not just about lipstick. It’s not just about red lipstick. It’s about creativity and freedom of expression. I don’t care which fashion you choose; it could be punk, goth, hippy, raver, disco, or alien. Rock that look; rock it hard. Rock it everywhere. Be a diva. Be YOURSELF.

It’s an open act of rebellion that we can all participate in. Yes, men are invited as well, because let’s face it, they’re not “supposed” to. Ha. Let’s show them they can’t break us.

The irony is that I finally found my “perfect” shade of red and decided I just can’t do it that often. My hair is blue, and I am waaaaay too fair skinned not to look like a flag. sigh

That’s okay though, I have some groovy shades of blue, purple, silver, gold, and even green now…🤣🤣🤣

Business Anxiety Relief

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I have the best customers in the world.

There are a lot of companies, businesses, and people out there who might say that, but I actually mean it. I was really scared about customers when I first started with Etsy. I know, I know, I shouldn’t have been. But you hear things, you know? Horror stories of people trying to return things and claiming they’re broken or lost or whatever, just to get their money back.

That kind of thing can really hurt a small business. As a business of one, my business is about as small as it can get. I’m probably even more paranoid because I’ve already closed one business. That hurt. A lot. It was frightening going back into the deep end. Hell, it took me about 13-14 years to recover enough to think about it. So yeah, I was scared.

When I started in on POD, I was even scared-er. It’s a new world. I have no control, really, on quality control, something I’ve always been extremely proud of with my jewelry and other beaded pieces. I have to trust that the company I’ve chosen is going to take care of my customers. YIKES. BIG YIKES!

As the holiday season began, and I actually had sales, I started to encounter problems. Not big ones, but still, problems. I was nervous and freaking out. A lot. My printers ran out of the mousepads I’m printing my pendulum pads on, the round ones, and of course I got an order for one. PANIC! I had no idea if they had simply run out of them, or if they were discontinuing them.

This just wouldn’t look the same if it were square!

Nervous beyond necessity, I messaged the printers first to try and find out if I was even going to be able to carry these things any more. Then, before it would be humanly possible for anyone to answer that question, I messaged the customer. I told them the situation, and a whole list of possible options. I could have it printed on a square mousepad, or we could upgrade it to either the wooden board or the leather one, but I couldn’t even get a preview of the leather one yet, so I had no IDEA what it would look like. Or we could wait, and see what the printers said.

My goodness, they were amazing. SO understanding, patient, and almost nonchalant about what seemed like a life-or-death situation to me! 🙂To say I was relieved was an understatement.

That story, of course, ended exactly as you probably thought it would. They had simply run short, in a couple of days they had refilled the supply, and it was printed and speedily on the way to that WONDERFUL human. Phew.

I’ve mentioned I have anxiety, right?

There was a “horrible” misprint of a Hekate journal that another customer ended up with. By horrible, I mean it was mildly wrinkled on a corner, and part of the cover wasn’t properly printed all the way to the edge. That can happen. But, naturally, I freaked out again. Another wonderful customer, though! They happily provided me with the photographic evidence I needed for the printer and BAM! Just like that it’s reprinted and flying on the way to them. Handled.

There was just a small, squished dent in one corner, but it was devastating to me!

WHY do I always panic?

Then, there are the customers who don’t know how wonderful, warm and fuzzy they’ve made me feel.

Every time one of the “patriarchy” variations sells, my heart sings. Every time I sell one overseas, even though the postage is outrageous, I feel absolutely loved. The latest was a customer who was not only overseas, but bought a shirt in a multiple X size. As a person of extra girth myself, it was really important to me to find sizes that go as high as I could possibly get, so I’ve chosen a printer who, at least in most styles, offers up to 5x. I’m irritated as hell that they charge me so much more for the larger sizes, but if I start selling more and can spread out the loss, I won’t pass that on to the customer anymore. If. I hope to. 💜 Knowing that someone purchased it, and appreciated it’s availability even though I had to charge more? Priceless.

Maybe someday I’ll stop panicking every time I run into a speedbump. With customers like this, I’m sure to. That and continuing my therapy!

I am My Own Worst Enemy. Again.

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Last August, I started a store on Etsy. I’ve been making jewelry and other beaded crafts forever, and I thought, “why not?” I’d started making jewelry again, just for myself after a very long break. I was burned out. Not from the store, but from the additional drama and stupid emotional decisions I’d made while there.

Like I said in the title, again.

Having learned all those lessons and more, and having started my therapy jewelry, I started to believe I was healthy enough to at least wear my artwork. And I am. But selling it?

I’m in the middle of it now, so there’s no easy way of going back. 🙃

I didn’t go into this Etsy thing blind. I started, as most people do these days I suppose, with YouTube. I found a variety of Etsy “coaches,” each one having their own view on how to do Etsy “right.” Don’t get me wrong, there are a lot of HORRIBLE “coaches” on YouTube. Especially post-pandemic. During the pandemic, you could throw almost anything up on Etsy and it would magically sell. Many self-appointed gurus took that and ran with it, making more money off of telling people how to make 100,000 a year off of Print-on-Demand.

Ummm…no. No, thanks.

Luckily, I wasn’t looking for a get-rich-quick scheme, so I avoided the worst of them. But I did find three potentially good coaches right away, and several I was keeping an eye on because they were still very “young” in YouTube terms. Good, but unproven. The coach I finally settled on had so much free content that I was flabbergasted. I learned so much just watching her free how-to videos. Not only that, but as I’m not Christian, she was obviously more accepting and understanding of the niche I’d intended to go into.

Somewhere between absorbing everything I could from her free content, and finally taking the dive into taking her course, I went from thinking I had the gist of SEO and believing I was awful at it, it was no good, and I sucked.

Self-esteem is one of my worst problems. Sigh

In that same space, I started to understand the POD world. I had started a Canva account because it was recommended by the Coaches, to use for the Etsy banner, and social media posts. I had begun getting arthritis in my fingers, and this was a different kind of creation that I could do and use different parts of my hands, at least.

  • One of the newer POD items; my very own Hekate design on a pendulum mat (mouse pad, lol). I’m pretty proud of this one!

I also started learning the fine art of resin pouring. 😉When I get some decent photos of those pieces, I’ll share them here first!

I also took a photo course through another coach who is AMAZING, that I learned of from my Etsy Coaches. Extra bonus points!

But…

There I was, about two months before my second Q4 go around. The first go round, I made…0. Nada. Zilch. I was hopeful that this Q4 would be better. And it was. Probably not as good as it could have been if I hadn’t absolutely given up on my SEO and just not added any at all. On 254 listings. Ouch.

If you don’t know what SEO is, it stands for Search Engine Optimization. My best explanation of it is that those are the sweet little words that people looking for what I’ve got use to search for it. If I have the same words the customers are using, then it’s a match and you’ll probably find me. If not, well, the chances anyone will find me are slim and none. Right.

Panic stricken, I started to add SEO and wouldn’t you know it? The same SEO I was using before landed my listings on the “front page” according to Erank. In other words, I was using the right SEO and didn’t know it. I had stopped adding SEO for no apparently good reason at all. I just didn’t have faith in myself.

I was still in panic mode, though. I had not only SEO for 254 listings to do but also had to create photos for 254 listings. At least 5 per listing. 254 times 5…

1270 photos.

Needless to say, I did not get it all done by the start of Q4. In fact, it’s still not all done. I’m finally okay with that. I let it go.

I did have better sales this year than last year, which isn’t surprising at all. I’m sure I could have done even better with SEO on everything, and I will get there. I don’t yet rely on this income, so I have some time. With the economy as it is now, I wasn’t even really expecting much. There’s nothing I make currently that would be necessary for anyone’s existence. Some of us are walking that line, and I get that.

The other contributing problem I encountered was my programming from Corporate America. Let’s face it, we’re trained from early on to work harder and faster, harder and faster, with less and less. This is my business. I’m the boss and the only employee. It’s not about doing things fast and getting them done “good enough.” It’s about doing it well, making things people will love that I can be proud of, and taking my time doing it right, not fast.

The SEO will get done when the SEO gets done. I’m committed to doing one or two, maybe even three listings a day, at a minimum. That’s enough. The rest of the time I can then commit to things like making new things, marketing, taking the best pictures I can, and customer service which means a LOT to me. 😎 I can honestly say that so far I’ve got the best customers on earth, EVER.

Oh, and I can finally get around to starting that email list I keep meaning to get to!

Therapy is working. I’m an old dog, but I’m learning some new tricks. I’m onto myself, too. When I approach something and feel like I just can’t do it right, I need to stop and think. Is it all in my head, or is there something to it? I really need to make friends with myself. I think that’s one of my major lessons to conquer in therapy.