Failure or Progress? The mental health analysis

Welcome to Week 5! All I can say of Week 5 is that it has offered a veritable plethora of opportunities to practise self-compassion.

Joking aside, it has been rather an odd week which has at times baffled my attempts to disentangle my thoughts and responses to events and actions.

I'm glad I have engaged in the disentangling process though: it has been rather enlightening. When I originally wrote the sentence above, it read "has at times baffled my attempts to disentangle the positives and negatives." My rewriting reflects way my perspective is changing, which is actually a pleasant surprise, because as well as logically being able to produce the arguments I am beginning to almost believe them. Credit I believe to my psychologist and some really lovely people who keep talking sense at me. It's easy to forget where I've come from, or to feel discouraged when I see the long road in front of me, but little bits of change really are happening - something I never properly believed possible. I hoped, but I could not see how it could actually come about. I suppose that's why we go to therapy...

I did a Thing!

So yes, this week included a Thing. I did a Thing! I took a day off work sick. I mean, admittedly I did have to arrange it the day before, and I had to battle the Brian, but I did the Thing! And do you know what, I have such wonderful people around me that I spent the rest of the week being congratulated by various people (from Mrs School-Peggy to Mr Peggy, Welsh Peggy to Mummy Peggy and other lovely Peggies) for my rather unorthodox "achievement".

I fought with self-criticism and feeling useless, with bitter disappointment that I had spoiled my chance of a full half-term with no time off, and many other emotions, but those around me gave me another voice to hear. One that saw the progress in being able to recognise the danger signs before crisis. The bravery in deciding to communicate that to someone else and following up that decision. The seeds of self-care in listening to and acknowledging my needs when they aren't what I want them to be. A voice that may one day exist within me, as I realised that a term with a day off but without meltdown at school may genuinely be better than a term with full attendance leading to decline in my mental health and functioning level at work and a holiday barely recovering from the term.

Square Peggy 1 - 0 Brian

But then of course came FRIDAY. Just to test the battlefield. FRIDAY did not treat me well. I was fine in the morning, but was battered with two double-attacks of immediate and unexpected changes that re-wrote the whole day. I managed to weather the first attack with a good old tried-and-tested bathroom sob session and told myself that I could get to lunch time and then the afternoon would be OK (a low-stress activity for me that was as yet according to timetable). The second wave finished me off and as soon as everything was safe I excused myself for another bathroom session. Decided in a very grown-up manner to let Teacher Peggy know I was struggling, but we ran into each other on my way back to class and she bundled me off to Safe Peggy and I ended up trundling home.

Cue Brian trying for another point. I hadn't even managed the term without meltdown at school now. Why can't I deal with the things like other people can? Why should I be special? Not pulling my weight, useless, causing trouble: mean comments ad nauseum. And yes, I am still struggling with those thoughts, and with the worry that it will happen again or that I will end up back where I was, be unable to work full time etc etc.

BUT even there I know it is not all bad. I got through the first wave of death. I didn't go into complete crisis at the second ("I'm not counting this as a crisis because x, y, and z" was actually said to me!). I was able to tell somebody what the problem was. I looked after myself during the day - went for a tramp on my moor, really stuck two fingers up at Brian by stopping for a hot chocolate on the way home, and put no demands on myself for the rest of the day.

So for the minute, I'm practising seeing that "failure" and "progress" may be closer than I think. Treating myself with acceptance and aiming towards compassion. Not labelling things as "good" or "bad" but letting them just be what they are, with the rainbow of emotional responses that brings. (See this fabulous article by Joanna Grace on rainbow emotional regulation.)

And I am loudly expressing my gratitude for so many people who tell me things so convincingly that I almost believe they mean them, who let me experience a voice other than the one in my head, and who back me up when I nearly hear it myself, celebrating when I follow it. You have had a big part in any progress I am making. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for being with Team Peggy.

I have autism. This means some things are more difficult for me than they are for other people. It can sometimes be hard to be me, but it is not wrong to be me.

Failure or Progress? When the autism monkey invades

This term has been going pretty well. Admittedly I've flagged a bit since week two, but we're on the home straight: 4 of 7 weeks completed and this is the last week of my evening commitments so I know the next two weeks will have more space. I've got much better at dealing with things, understanding and communicating my needs and so on and so forth, so have been quietly looking forward to completing a whole half term clean: last term (an 8-weeker) only held one drama and that was solved by the new and groundbreaking technique of going home and recovering (shocking I know!).

We had a great time!

Then came this week. I misjudged the weekend, having a wonderful day dancing on Saturday with friends, but instead of taking Sunday as a nothing day I took the utterly wild decision of doing an hour's shopping on my way home. This sacrificed my alone time and I had jobs to do in the evening once Mr Peggy was in. I should know better, but sometimes I get complacent and think it can't cost too much to do one extra Thing at the weekend (I generally limit to one Thing per weekend, and try to keep alternate weekends empty, having learnt that this allows me to function during the week). Turns out it does if you're me.

Monday nearly finished me off and I knew I wasn't on top form for supporting some of our little people, so I did a Thing (bold just to differentiate from the Things above!!). I found Mrs School and told her I thought I needed to call in sick for tomorrow. Mrs School has been on this whole parade with me and understood what a Thing it was and was very proud of me for my great achievement. I spent the rest of the week being congratulated by various people for this step in my development: rather humorous but very powerful. How grateful I am to be surrounded by supportive Peggies who are invested in wanting the best for me.

So, having done the Thing I returned on Wednesday, back to functioning level and feeling rather pleased that my bravery had paid off. Yes, I did mourn the loss of my clean half term and deal with some rude Brian behaviour but I came out on top and realised that I am still the winner because actually, I recognised the need and acted on it before ending up in disaster-land. I was able to reflect that a half-term with a day off and without crisis at work is a better achievement than a full half term having dragged myself along at 25%, lost progress on my mental health and needing the full holiday just to begin recovering from the term. Yay! Well done Peggy!

Enter FRIDAY MORNING.

SQUARE PEGGY is much as she has been every morning. She struggles to get out of bed and reflects that actually, she does pretty well day to day. When you consider that by the time she gets to work she has overcome several difficult transitions and sources of anxiety (Getting out of bed, getting out of the shower, leaving the pets, getting out of the car. Dealing with the anxiety of possibly being late, what might happen during the day, whether she's been an acceptable human being etc.), it's reasonable that she sometimes feels a bit wobbly. 

FRIDAY MORNING presents SQUARE PEGGY with an email announcing that the weekly Friday morning meeting (that she panicked for the whole journey she would be late for) is cancelled. She doesn't cope well without this meeting and if she misses it her Friday always feels uncomfortable. FRIDAY MORNING then informs SQUARE PEGGY that assembly is semi-cancelled and to take place in classrooms instead.

SQUARE PEGGY cries in a bathroom for 20 minutes to process this information, then gets herself to class. She plans to try and tell someone it isn't a good day but this is difficult to communicate. She tells herself that if she can get to lunch time she is doing hydrotherapy in the afternoon and that will be OK. She can do this.

As she goes to collect the children FRIDAY MORNING informs her that the pool is closed due to illness. Five minutes later a visitor she had forgotten was coming for the morning enters the room. She holds it together until the children are safe and settled in class and excuses herself to visit the bathroom, where she cries for another five minutes. 

Long story short; Friday is not spent at school either. I've not had the week I was expecting, and today hit me right out of the blue when I thought I was fine.

A tramp on my moor solves a lot!

I have come a long way though: I am now able to reflect with less self-criticism and take on others' comments about the difference between this week's wobbles and those in the past.

On Tuesday I called it before it got to the stage of turning into a crisis. Full on win.
Today I had no idea it was coming, but actually I overcame the first wave of Bad Stuff and didn't completely melt down even at the second. I was able to verbalise what the problem had been, I didn't have to wrap myself in my blanket and calm down for half an hour, I could accept that maybe it was sensible to go home. I went home even though Mr Peggy was there, and I told him I was coming. I looked after myself on the way home, because I'm learning that I am not an exception to the rest of the world: I make progress when I am safe and cared for, not when I am told off and criticised.

I still have an ideal of perfect functioning that I feel substandard for not meeting, and the outcome isn't what I was looking for, but neither is the outcome entirely negative. I am learning, I am progressing, and as that happens I may well move more towards my ideal of functioning. But if I don't, I will accept that. I have autism. This means some things are more difficult for me than they are for other people. It is sometimes hard to be me, but it is not wrong to be me.