I Am Not Having Kids, But Not For Your Ableist Reasons

I am not planning to have children.

This may not come as much of a surprise.  If you've read many of my posts, you know that I'm living with a severe mental illness and multiple learning disabilities.  People like me don't have kids, right?  People like me don't want kids.  Maybe, you're thinking, people like me shouldn't have kids.

If you're thinking that last one, I hereby call you out on your ableist bullshit.  Ableism is the idea that those of you with a Normal (tm) way of being in the world are superior to those of us who don't conform to the norm.  Our way of being in the world might mean that we can't count change.  It might mean that we hear voices.  It might mean that we get around in a wheelchair.

But listen up, "normal" folks, our way of being in the world is just as valid as yours is, and the extent of our deviation from the norm has absolutely nothing with our value as individual human beings or as members of families and communities.

The idea that those with mental illness, ADHD, and learning disabilities "shouldn't" have kids is all too prevalent, even among those who have these disorders.  A few years ago, when I was hanging out on Dyscalculia Forum, someone asked who on the forum wanted to spawn, was planning to spawn, etc.  I'd say a majority of the younger, currently childless women on the forum were firmly in the "no" camp.  Which would be fine; it's their choice, and I support their right to make it -- except that the reason they didn't want kids was because they "didn't want to pass on their horrible genes".

Yeah.  That's right up there with other terrible things, like littering.  Or being one of those people who has really loud cell phone conversations about last night's episode of Jersey Shore.

What these folks were saying is that it would be somehow doing their progeny, and possibly the whole human race, a disservice by giving birth to a kid who might be ... *gasp* .... bad at math.  The whole thing made me really sad -- all of these intelligent, caring people had internalized society's ableism, and believed that somehow they'd be irresponsible to share that with the world by having children..

The thing is that genes merely provide predisposition, not predestination.  Someone who's inherited a gene for a disability like a mood disorder might never develop one.  If they grew up in a loving, secure environment, their disability might never be triggered.  Or, if you want a different example, someone who's predisposed to alcoholism is at no risk for the disease if they never take a drink in their lives.

Even with all my problems, I think I'd be able to provide a child with the kind of love and support that would help her avoid the family tendency toward depression.  While I clearly I've got a few crappy genes,  I've also got a damn lot of really excellent ones.  And if my children did wind up with my ADHD and LD, well, I'd be in the perfect position to advocate for her and understand what she's going through.  It hardly sounds like a horrible life.

So why am I not having kids?  I love kids.  I enjoy them a lot.  But when it comes right down to it, I like having someone put them away when I'm done playing with them.  Parenting is 24-7, and I just don't want to deal with that.  It's just that simple.

A Depressive Makes Some New Years Resolutions

I started this post in early January, but I'm only finishing it now.  What do you want?  I have ADHD, a mutant mood disorder, and some meds that mess with my memory.  Oh, and guess what?  I'm only a few days late for Chinese New Year!  So there.

I'm so glad to see the ass-end of 2011.  There were so many challenges, so much loss.  But it's a new year and I'm not going to dwell on them.

As with every year, I am making New Years' resolutions as a way of setting my intentions for the coming year.  Last year their focus was caring for myself.  I think I did a pretty good job of that, given all the problems I had.

Here are my resolutions for 2012:

• To establish a nightly ritual in which I think of at least one good thing that happened that day.
  I spent much of last year in various states of crazy, deep depression, or profound anxiety about the future.  There weren't a lot of positives in my life, but nonetheless, I know they were there.  I need to pay more attention to them -- this is according to my friend's six year old, who, when we were visiting for the New Year, happened to mention that "something good happens every day, and we should be glad".  Out of the mouths of babes.

• I'm will structure my time and create a schedule.  A few years ago, before my life went to hell in a handbasket, I had something of a schedule that I more or less stuck to.  Work out from 10 to 11 Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  Do a certain chore from 2 to 3 every day.  Spend only three hours a day on the computer.  Spend at least two hours working on art.  I didn't always stick to it exactly, but I did sort of, and I got a lot more done as a result.

• I will enlist an ADD coach to help me in my search for meaningful work.  Now that I'm past the Solstice, I need to get back to my job search.  In the course of my last one, I realized that I have no idea what the hell I'm doing.  I feel like everyone who has a real job knows something that I don't. 

• My disabilities present an additional challenge here -- I wasn't able to "start at the bottom" as an admin like most people; and at this point I really need to be able to work from home most of the time to care for my mood disorder.  In other words, I need help.  I need real help.

• I will continue to work on my marriage.  I realized last month that, in addition to whatever legitimate frustrations my partner has, he's going through his own shit right now.  It makes him difficult to live with.  But I didn't promise to love and support him only when it was easy.

• I will work on my non-violent communication skills.  As my mood has stabilized, I've gone from the "shock and sorrow" phase of my relationship difficulties to the "really effing pissed" stage.  Thanks to our incompetent marriage counselor, and thanks to my partner's lack of emotional availability, I've spent the last several months holding space for him.  My issues have been ignored.  And this has made me angry.  Like most people, when I get angry I get reactive, and I can be sarcastic and contemptuous and say destructive things.  Since I'm the one with the capacity right now, I resolve to take on the responsibility of communicating my needs and my feelings in a non-violent way that will be easier for my partner to hear.

Happy Year of the Dragon!

Lamictal 300 mgs: Side Effects Lessening

A few days ago I went up to what I hope will be my final dose of lamictal -- 300 mgs.

I've been experiencing some not fun side effects since titrating up to 150 six weeks ago.  In addition to some pretty obnoxious GI complaints, my mouth felt like the Sahara desert most of the time, so I was drinking gallons of water, and having to pee every 15 minutes.

Last week, that seemed to improve.  I was taking a three hour car trip from my grandmother's current abode to her new house.  She hates to stop on road trips if she can avoid it, so I sucked on xylitol mints and tried not to give in to my thirst.  It worked.  The cool thing was that it continued to work after that.  My mouth felt less dry, I needed less water, I wasn't running to the bathroom constantly.  I only had to use the bathroom once during my six hour flight from the East to the West coast.

Back from Family Trip: Thoughts About Memory Loss, ADD, and Blue Light Therapy

A few weeks ago, I wrote about my anxieties about my pending visit to my grandmother.  Some of my anxieties were due to childhood memories of being bored at my grandparents' rural home.  Some of them were due to the fact that my father had told me that she her cognition had "really declined".  Would she even remember that my sister and I were coming in to visit?  Would she recognize us?  Would she be startled every morning to find us there?

The answer to all of these questions was, hell no.  We had a great visit with Grandma.  She has trouble remembering things like what day it is, and therefore what day we were coming, or what time my aunt was going to visit her next.  Her long-term memory, her personality, and -- thank the gods! -- her sense of humor are intact.

In Which I Ponder My Eccentric Family, and the Nature of Existential Boredom

I'm taking a trip during the last week of October to visit my grandmother.  I've been anxious about the trip for a lot of reasons.  I don't know how much my grandmother's cognition has declined.  I don't know what it will feel like to see such a strong personality reduced to confusion.  Then there's the whole daylight issue; the days are a bit shorter in PA than they are here in Norcal, and she lives in the mountains, so they may feel even shorter than they are.  I'm concerned about my sleep.  On the one hand, it's normalized somewhat; on the other hand, I know that the three hour time change will probably mess it up.  Even so, it's settled in at 2 am to 9 or 10 in the morning.  And Grandma gets up early.

I've been trying to calm myself by reminding myself that my sister will be with me, and we can support each other when we need it.  It will be fun to see my grandmother and my aunts and uncles.  We'll also be able to give compassionate, concrete help to a family member in need.  I'm on medication and I'm bringing a portable sunlamp with me.  My pdoc has given me the OK to travel.  Everything will be fine.

Yesterday I realized that the underlying cause of my anxiety was actually none of these things.  It's the fact that there's no internet at my grandmother's house.  How pathetic am I, right?

I started to laugh at myself, and my anxiety evaporated.  I can survive without the internet.  I've done it before.  So why does it feel like such an existential threat right now?  Well, like so many answers, this one lies in the past.  It also has much to do with the eccentricities of my late grandfather.

Day 56: First Day on 150 mgs of Lamictal

And I felt good (mostly -- read up on the not-quite-good part after the jump).  There was no sign of my mid-afternoon mood trough, but that could be due to the fact that between 4 and 8 pm I was enjoying some pleasant distractions.  From 4 to 6, I was having my hair done by a good friend of mine.  She was the only one in the salon, so we could actually enjoy a personal conversation.  She's just starting out, which means that her schedule has and will continue to be crazy -- so finding time to hang out when she's not doing my hair has been difficult.

My friend is also going through some grandmother drama.  Her grandma had a couple of severe strokes a few weeks ago, and at the age of 90, is not expected to recover.  Fortunately for my friend, her parents were able to find a nursing home and hospice center in their town.  Her parents are able to visit her grandmother daily.  Their town is close enough that my friend can visit weekly.  She greatly values the fact that she can share her grandmother's last few months.

I told her about my own grandmother.  How it's so hard to be so far away.  How it's crazymaking that my aunt and uncle, whatever their intentions, made a decision that went against my grandmother's wishes, and probably against her needs.  They bought a house using grandma's money, and if she needs a nursing home, the money will not be there.  How the difficulty is compounded by the fact that my father and my uncle -- the ones who have financial experience --live so far away from her, and were not consulted when this decision was made.

Lamictal Day 28: My First Really Bad Day, and Some Observations About Coffee

Those of you who have been avidly following my extended family drama may remember that my father is catastrophising about my grandmother's situation, but that my uncle doesn't think it's that bad.  So I thought that maybe talking to my uncle would be good self-care.  It might do me good to get the opinion of someone who isn't neurotic.

The problem is, we're not really in touch, and I didn't have his phone number.  To get it I had to drop an email to my mother.  Mom wrote back that it would be a bad idea to talk to my uncle, because it would "enflame the situation when it really needed to settle down", that she only told us kids what was happening with Grandma so we would know what was going on, and that she "should have done a better job managing her own stress levels."  If I wanted to talk about the grandma situation, I could give her a call.

In other words, I'm an errant twelve-year-old who needs to be told how to behave.  I'm not mature enough to navigate an adult relationship with my uncle.  My relationships with other family members need to be mediated by my mother, and by the way, my stress is causing her to feel stressed out.  Maybe I'm not mature enough to be party to family difficulties.  Also, my feelings are dangerous and need to be contained, like hantavirus.

Running, Coping Skills, and Family Pain

My father and I have both worked hard to have the relationship we have now.  I don't want to go into details here.  If you want to know what it was like for me growing up, read Ashley's post about her own relationship with her father.  The details differ.  The terror was the same.

Dad probably has, or at least has had, an undiagnosed mood disorder of some kind.  John McManamy writes that depression may be under-diagnosed in men because it can manifest in anger or rage -- symptoms that don't appear on the DSM list.  My father raged.  Holy crap, did he rage.  Then, for no apparent reason, he would be in a good mood, and he'd laugh off my latest transgression.  Then he'd start raging again.

Lamictal Day 24: Sleep, Exercise, Stress, and Family

I was able to get a decent night's sleep last night.  There are two things that I think contributed to this: I went running, and my husband went to bed around 11:00 instead of falling asleep with his head on my lap while watching TV. Actually, make that three things -- I drank about three cups of Traditional Medicinals' "Easy Now" herbal tea.

Since I had exercised and meditated like a good girl, I felt relaxed throughout the afternoon and evening, and even tired by 11.  I went to bed just after my husband did, and even though I read for awhile (which is bad sleep hygiene) I felt sleepy by 11:45.  Since I'd drunk all that tea, I had to get up and pee a few times; the last such time was 12:20.  Then I fell asleep.  I woke briefly around 8, and then was up for good when my alarm went off.  Waking up went pretty easily.