Tag Archives: Recovery

My #InvisibleFight for Mental Health #IIWK15

Today is the start of INvisible Illness Awareness Week. I already shared a post on ths year’s theme, my invisible fight, last week. This was about my fight for a correct diagnosis and treatment of my physical symptoms.

If all goes as planned, I will be participating in a 31-day writing challenge in October on the topic of mental health. I have lived with mental health problems pretty much all my life, though I didn’t get into the care system till 2007. In today’s post, I’m sharing my fight for proper mental health care.

I have had a number of diangoses for my mental health problems over the years. At first, in 2007, I was diagnosed with an adjustment disorder caused by the stress of my living independently while being multiply-dsabled. I was hospitalized on a locked psychiatric unit and stayed there for 1 1/2 years. An adjustment disorder can only persist for six months after the stressor has gone (so after I’d been hospitalized), so I had to be diagnosed with something else eventually. My new diagnosis was impulse control disorder nOS. Several years later, I got diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder (formerly known as multiple personality disorder) and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). These finally got changed to borderline personality disorder in 2013.

It’s been a long fight to get the care I deserve and the fight is ongoing. In 2008, when on the locked unit, I was treated with seclusion or threatened seclusion whenever I acted even slightly irritable. I wasn’t told that, being an informally-admitted patient, I had to give consent for this treatment. My problems were treated like willful misbehavior, even though my diagnosis of impulse control disorder should suggest the behaviors were at least to an extent beyond my control.

I had a horribly authoritarian social worker at the time. She was mostly in charge of my care, because I was at this unit awaiting appropriate long-term residential care. At one point, when I objected to applying at a certain supported housing place because I didn’t meet half the admission criteria, she threatened to get me a guardian. Not that my parents, who would’ve been the most likely choice for guardianship, would’ve stood in the way of my making my own decisions. I have said many negative things about my parents, but one positive quality of theirs is that they allow me to be in charge of my own life.

I had to fight to be admitted to a resocialization unit in 2009. I first had to fight my social worker, who wanted to transfer me to a low-level supported housing placement instead. That was just too big a leap. I also had to fight the treatment team at the resocialization unit, who were skeptical I’d be able to cope on an open unit.

Once at the rsocialization unit, I got better treatment than I’d gotten at the locked unit. However, I didn’t get much better. Eventually, medicaiton was suggested. This was a huge step, as the doctor at the locked unit had always ignored my questions and suggestions about possibly going on medication. My antipsychotic is truly a lifesaver. Its dose had to be increased several times and an antidepressant had to be added, but now I’m quite stable.

In 2012, when I’d been diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder for some years but was noticing my psychologist didn’t have a clue how to treat it, I took it upon myself to find a suited therapist. I E-mailed around, was rejected many times, but eventually found someone. Unfortunately, by the time she had a spot for me, I’d transferred to my current institution and my diagnosis had just been changed to borderline personality disorder.

As the years passed, I got to know and love my husband and we eventually married in 2011. We originally weren’t planning on living together, but early this year, I changed my mind. We’ve been working towards discharge for me ever since. Thankfully, my psychologist and social worker are quite cooperative. The fight is not yet over. In fact, now that my discharge is coming closer being probably around three to six months away, I have to fight my inner demons. In other words, I have to fight the fear that I’ll break down again, like I did in 2007. Thankfully, my psychologist and social worker are understanding of this. I am hoping that, once I am settled in at my and my husband’s apartment, I can finally get treatment for my emotion regulation problems.

Everyday Gyaan

Also linking up to Invisible Illness Awareness Week 2015: Your Invisble Fight.

Prayer and Reflection: Jesus Helps Me Through My Eating Disorder

I have had quite the urge to engage in eating disorder behaviors today. It’s raining, so I can’t go out to the town store to get some candy. Besides, it’d not be right in the long run. After all, I’d not be caring for myself well by indulging in the urge to binge.

So I paged through Journaling in Eating Disorder Recovery. The book is explicitly Christian. Since I am a Jesus follower too, I have felt very much touched by the questions and suggestions in the book. At several points, the author encourages the reader to find Bible verses or other inspirational material that will help them through their recovery journey. So I looked online for some Bible verses that help me strengthen my willpower to overcome this urge, at least for now.

“For this reason he had to be made like them, fully human in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the
sins of the people. Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.” (Hebrews 2:17-18 NIV)

This is so powerful. Jesus was human himself, suffering all the usual temptations us humans face on a daily basis. Jesus did not have an eating disorder, but He was undoubtedly tempted to indulge overeating every once in a while. After all, everyone is tempted ot overeat at times. Yet Jesus overcame this temptation. We could say He did so because he is God, too. That would be disempowering ourselves, because we are saying: “I coud never resist temptation like Jesus did, because I’m not God.”

What this Bible verse says, however, is that Jesus is able to empathize with us and thereby help us. We may not have the Godly powers Jesus has, but we can lean on Him, and He will care. After all He knows what it is like to be fully human. He cannot just sympathize, but truly empathize.

As a mental health sufferer, I tend to look to people who have a lot in common with me for guidance and support. I look to people who have had the same experiences and struggles I face. I look to people who cannot just sympathize, but empathize.

How wonderful is it that God HImself, through His son Jesus Christ, can empathize with all of us! He knows what it is like to be tempted, so He is willing and able to help us through.

God, help me through the urge to binge for just one day. Help me face the reality that, in the long run, bingeing will be bad for my body, and I need to take good care of my body. Help me realize that, through your son Jesus Christ, who suffered human temptation, I am able to overcome this same temptation. Amen.

After Recovery

This week, the One Word blog linkup has “after” or “pretend” as the choices of words. I could write a post inspired by both of these words, but I need to choose one. When I found out about this week’s words, immediately an idea popped up in my mind, inspired also by my eating disorder recovery journaling project. What would my long-term goals for recovery be, and what would my life look like after I fully recover?

The answer to this question of course depends on the question: recover from what? Just my eating disorder or mental illness in general. In the latter case, I need to note that recovery is not the same as cure. Recovery means living beyond the illness, not necessarily without it. In Dutch, the word for “beyond” is “voorbij”, which in most cases connotes the thing we go beyond has passed. In English, the word “beyond” does not have such a connotation.

First, let’s pretend (ha, the other word sneaked in!)j that I can be fully cured of my eating disorder. This is in fact not just pretend, as people do live past their eating disorders. What would this look like?


  • I would be able to snack without losing control.

  • I would not feel guilty (most of the time) after eating.

  • I would no longer compensate for (over)eating in an unhealthy way, such as by purging.

  • I would feel okay about my body. This does not necessarily mean I’m at a healthy weight, as weight loss is a completely different journey from eating disorder recovery even if your main behavior is bingeing. It would simply mean I’d no longer hate my body.

  • I would have and use healthy ways of coping with stress.

This is where recovery form mental illness in general, in my case borderline personality disorder, comes in. After all, one of my primary goals in recovery is to develop healthy coping mechanisms.

Suppose I developed those healthy coping mechanisms. What else would I want to have accomplished after recovery? First, I’d like to feel mostly stable. I’d still have down days and up days, would still get angry at times, because that is human. I would, however, no longer experience those intense states of hopelessness which usually lead to destructive coping mechanisms or feel chronically empty.

Another way of looking at recovery, however, is to look at what I want my life to be like beyond my illness. In other words, what would I like to achieve in life in spite of my mental health problems. Here goes:


  • Live with my husband.

  • Be able to do a volunteer job>

  • Be able to spend enough time on my hobbies not to get bored, but not so much that I get overwhelmed.

  • Be grateful for the smaller and larger joys of life without immediately second-guessing myself.


Lastly, this is somewhat unrelated to recovery. It is more a general life goal. I’d love to write my autobiography.

Pros and Cons of My Eating Disorder

I have truly been relapsing in the eating disorder department lately. I don’t really know why, other than the fact that I’m quite irritable lately. This, though, seems to be a vicious cycle: I go from irritability to thinking about bingeing or purging to actually bingeing or purging and back to irritability.

In order to help myslef think clearer about my disordered eating habits, I bought the eBook Journaling in Eating Disorder Recovery by Laurie Glass. The book contains a multitude of suggestions for journaling yourself into recovery. One of the suggestions is to make lists, for example of feelings or thoughts. I really love list-making.

The book also contains journaling questions. I don’t know whether a pro/con list for your eating disorder is in them, but I made one recently. I made it for a pro-eating disorder site that I used to go to, but I left it. I might still be a member but don’t want to trigger myself by checking the list there. Let me make a new one.

Pros of my eating disorder:


  • Relieving stress.

  • Feeling something in my body rather than in my mind.

  • Being able to eat as much as I want of the foods I love. This one isn’t really true, as I’m not sure I want to eat till I’m nauseated. I however have the thought that if I recover, I need to adhere to a strict diet and can never have candy or pizza again.

  • Avoiding the physical and mental sensations of hunger.

  • Expressing that I’m not feeling well. This may be in the sense that eating disorder behaviors are a cry for attention, but also that they impress the reality of my struggles upon myself.

  • Avoiding pressures such as college or work or independent living.

Cons of my eating disorder:


  • Weight gain and the resulting obesity.

  • Acid reflux from purging. Possible esophagus damage as a result.

  • Not being able to engage in healthy social interactions because of having food on my mind all the time.

As you can see, I find I can think of far more pros for my eating disorder than cons. However, ultimately, these pros are based on the idea that I do not cycle from irritability to thoughts about disordered eating habits to eating disorder behaviors and back to irritability. In reality, the stress relief, for example, is very short-lived. For instance, I just binged terribly about an hour ago and have been feeling guilty and angry for the past thirty minutes at least.

Ten Achievements of the Past Decade

Today in Blog Everyday in May, the prompt is to list ten achievements of the past ten years. Now I already did my 28 Before 28 post in February, so it’s an extra challenge not to repeat myself. I am just going to write, and if I don’t get to ten, well, screw it.

1. Graduated from high school. This happened just shy of a decade ago. I am not particularly proud of myself for graduating, probably because my parents were super over the top proud of me and I still can’t let go of a little parent-defying. I forgot most of what I learned in high school anyway.

2. Learned to clean and cook semi-independently. I went to an independence training home for the disabled in 2006 and 2007, where I learned many skilsl ncessary for independent living. I lost most of these skills again, but the fact that I learned them once, makes me confident that I can relearn them.

3. Overcame a mental crisis. It surprises me that, in the 28 Before 28 list, though I did include my diagnoses, I didn’t include the actual achievement of overcoming the darkest of aspects of mental illness. In all honesty, and I hope this doesn’t get me kicked out of care before I’m ready, I can say I’m much better able to cope than I was back when I was first hospitalized in 2007.

4. Finished two Open University psychology courses with a passing grade. IN 28 Before 28, I did mention that I took five courses in total, but the achievement of passing two of them in 2009 was largely overshadowed by the fact of the three that I didn’t pass.

5. Was able to let go of some of the darker trauma-based emotions and perceptions. As regular readers might know, I’m a childhood trauma survivor, which largely came to the surface when I was at my old rehabilitation unit in 2010. Though I got no evidence-based treatment for PTSD or dissociation, through a lot of talking and some work done on my own, I overcame most of the classic PTSD symptoms. I still have attachment issues, emotion regulation difficulties, etc., but I am confident that I will overcome the debilitating effects of these too.

6. Got married. I don’t usually credit myself for our relationship success, but then again it’s a mutual effort I guess, so I should deserve half the credit. If not, then well, I’m still happy I got married, so this fact still belongs here!

7. Started and restarted yoga. I took yoga classes in 2009 or 2010, but eventually quit because the emotions it brought on were too overwhelming. I recetnly restarted and am becoming quite successful at basic poses and exercises.

8. Was able to participate in group recreational therapy. In my old institution, I used to get individual day activities only. Due to budget cuts, I couldn’t get these for a long while in my current institution so I tried the day activity group. It’s still quite hard, but I can at least usually keep up.

9. Was able to enter the recovery stage with regards to my eating disorder. That is, I comletely stopped purging and recently was able to reduce my binge eating significantly too. I gained lots of weight in the past decade and have only started losing it again little by little over the past couple of months, but at least I’m improving. I also haven’t self-harmed in a few months, but that has not been a conscious effort as much.

10. Am generally much happier than I was ten years ago. This pretty much sums up all of my achievements. I didn’t earn the Ph.D. or get the high-profile job I thought I envisioned for myself ten years ago, but so what? I’m generaly less angry, less hostile and also less anxious than I was in 2005. I’m still not the shiniest example of positivity on the planet, but I’m trying to keep a positive outlook, and that’s what matters!

Found Love. Now What?
The List

What Recovery Means to Me

Recovery from an eating disorder, self-injury, another addiction or mental health condition can mean quite different things depending on whom you ask. When I joined a recovery group in my old institution in 2010, it was made clear that recovery is different from cure. You could be recovered while still having symptoms of your mental illness and, I assume, someone could be symptom-free but not recovered too. Recovery, in this situation, means living the life you want given the circumstances you’re in and taking responsibility for yourself.

In the eating disorder, self-harm and addiction communities, recovery is much more tied to cure. You cannot, it is assuemd, be recovered while still engaging in disordered eating behaviors or self-harm or, in the case of Alcoholics Anonymous, even drinking a sip of alcohol. I understand this. After all, how can you be fully taking responsibility for your life, living a full life when your life is ruled by food or alcohol or drugs or self-harm? I do see the point. When you’re powerless over an addiction – admitting this is the first step in twelve-step programs -, it takes abandoning the addiction in order to regain power over your life. I am not fully sure this applies to eating though.

The first definition of recovery – the one of taking control of your life, whether you’re still symptomatic or not -, was also devised by people with severe mental illness. You know, treatment-resistant, thought-to-be-lifelong conditions such as schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. People in the eating disorder and self-harm communities tend to assume that their conditons are curable, so their definition of recovery requires being symptom-free. Even so, people like Arnhild Lauveng prove that becoming completely symptom-free is possible with thought-to-be-lifelong conditions like in her case schizophrenia too.

I tend to side with the first definition of recovery with regards to most of my symptoms. I don’t even consider some of my symptoms to be entirely negative. Even when I do, it isn’t a priority for me to get rid of them. Rather, it’s my priority to live a fulfilling life in spite of my symptoms.

Having a fulfilling life, for clarity’s sake, does not mean not getting support or help. In the recovery group I was part of, my planning to go to a workhome – one of the more intensive forms of support within the autism community -, was seen as recovery, because I took steps towards taking control of my life. (I originally typed “restrictive” instead of “intensive”, but realized that there is a huge difference and this place was not that restricive at all.) Indeed, living your life with lots of support, but you being the one directing your support, is very much what recovery is about.

However, with regards to my eating disorder and self-injury, I would very much like to become symptom-free. That doesn’t mean that to have stopped bingeing or purging or self-harming for a set amount of time means I’m recovered. Recovery also means having overcome the emotional struggles that underly my food issues and self-harm. In this sense, since my eating disorder is probably and my self-harm is certainly part of my borderline personality disorder, I do hope to become symptom-free from BPD too.

Even so, for me living my life is a much higher priority than becoming symptom-free. I want to go find a place to live, whether it’s with my husband or in supported housing, and I want to take up some course again. Probably not a college-level course, but maybe a writing course or something. I also want to exercise a few times a week, which is good for keeping me healthy even should I not entirely overcome the overeating.

You can’t stop eating entirely, so I can’t decide that recovery means no more indulging into the addictive substance or behavior. In this sense, I realize I’m not fit for twelve-stp programs, even of the compulsive overeater type, because they do require you to be completely clean from overeating in order to consider yourself having entered the first phase of recovery. Becoming binge-free would be great, and I do strive for it, but it’s less of a priority than having a fulfilling life.

Running in Lavender

Brilliant blog posts on HonestMum.com

Where I Am on My Eating Disorder Journey Right Now

I had a particularly bad week in the eating disorder department. I joined a (not too bad) American pro-ana site and considered joining the bad pro-ana sites that the Netherlands is rife with but was held back by their requirement that I post my weight. I had two binge episodes (Wednesday and today) and am currently fighting off the urge to purge.

In order to motivate myself for recovery or, if that doesn’t work, at least to distract myself from the disordered thoughts, I searched for recovery challenges agian. I remember starting one last year but never completing it. I have no intention of really completing this one either, but I thought I’d answer the first question, which asks you to assess where you are in recovery.

First, here are my stats:


  • Height: 1.53m or 5.0ft.

  • Weight: 74kg or 163lb or 11st 9lb.

  • BMI: 31.6.


Since becoming a psychiatric inpatient in 2007, I’ve gained 20kg, most of which I gained over the past three years.

It would be tempting to say I’m at my lowerst point ever in terms of recovery. After all, I’m one kilogram from my highest weight ever and to be honest I didn’t weigh myself just now but am taking my weight from a few weeks back here. For this reason, chances are I’m currently a bit over that 75kg mark.

If I’m truly honest, I must say I’ve never been truly recovering from my eating disorder. My eating disorder has changed, but some behavioral manifestations were always there. I’ve been overeating for fifteen years, probably binge eating to some extent even for all those years, although I didn’t recognize that what I was doing was more than just overeating until a few years ago. I purged for a while too.

On said American pro-ana site, I defined my eating disorder as in the middle between bulimia and binge eating disorder. In fact, however, I’ve not purged in months so am actually suffering with pure BED (I’ve never engaged in other compensatory behaviors). My staff see it as simple overeating so I’ve not been formally diagnosed with an eating disorder. I guess they’d rather see me as one of their so many obese patients who refuses to lose weight than deal with the underlying problem. I don’t know honestly whether I’m motivated either. Not having had any therapy that worked for any of my issues except a bit of guidance for my autism in 2007, I’m uncertain that I’m fit to ever recover.

Post Comment Love

Self-Reliance Is Overrated, Self-Determination Is Underrated

In his post on cripple identity, William Peace talks about the fact that non-disabled bodies with their non-disabled functions are seen as the norm, and disabled people never fit in. As Peace gets older, he develops an increasingly carefree attitude regarding these ideas, thereby embracing life and his disabled identity in life.

As I read Peace’s post, several points came to mind with regards to how his reasoning can be applied to those with cognitive disabilities or mental illness. He explicitly writes about walking as an overrated function, but what about such functions as speech, language or cognitive processes such as logical thinking and organizational skills?

I am reminded of a discussion I had with my old psychologist when I had only been in my current institution for a short while. She was discussing the “can” vs. “can’t” attitude as presented by physical rehabilitaiton patients as well as the mentally ill. She tried to explain the importanc eof having a positive attitude towards learning practical skills such as cuttign up my food (which I am physically nable to do) and cleaning my room (which I am unable to do due to executive dysfunction). What she didn’t realize is that my refusal to learn these skills is only partly out of lack of self-efficacy (low self-esteem). It is more out of a feeling that these skills are not as important. I didn’t go hungry when I lived independently, and though my house did go dirty, if I lived with my husband, it wouldn’t be much harder for him to do most cleaning whether I lived there or not. In my opinion, self-regulation skills and self-directedness are much more important. I did, after all, end up in a psychiatric crisis when living on my own.

As disabled people – and as abled people too, but they don’t seem to realize it -, we need to set priorities. I might’ve wanted to learn to cut up my food or clean my room, if I had the energy to do this amongst all the energy that it costs me to manage my anxiety, regulate my fluctuating emotions and basically stay as close as possible to mentally stable.

Let me say this very bluntly: self-reliance is overrated. Self-determination is underrated. Too often, disabled people are trrained in the skills necessary to appear as non-disabled as possible. They are rarely trained in the skills necessariry for being as self-determined as possible. This goes especially for cognitively disabled and mentally ill people, who are still presumed to have a reduced capacity for self-direction.

Even today’s psychiatric rehabilitation movement, with its focus on recovery groups, (ex-)patients as support workers, and the strengths method, still teaches that mentally ill people can live normal lives in spite of their mental illness. It does not teach that it is possible to live a normal live while embracing your mental illness, let alone that the entire idea of “normal” is hugely overrated. The recovery group I participated in in 2010 was groundbreaking in the respect that it consisted of institutionalized patients, some of whom (like myself) weren’t moving into less restrictive environments.

Less restrictive. Boy, need I talk about that? Less restrictive should mean that a person has more choices over how they live their life, not that there is less support. In this respect, the physical disability movement has already paved the road with their independent living centers for example. Unfortunately, the law here in the Netherlands is not in favor of mentally ill and cognitively disabled people in search for self-determination, because, besides needing constant supervision, the only ground for long-term care with 24-hour availability is “severe self-direction problems”.

An Open Letter to My Teachers

Day six of the recovery challenge asks you to write a letter to someone who has harmed you or has made you feel bad. I could write a number of letters, but then again an equal number of people could write them to me. Besides, such letters are not always meant to be seen by the people they’re about, so the blog isn’t always the right place to post them. I will therefore not write a letter to one specific person, but to a group of people. Originally, I wanted to write a letter to my elementary and secondary school bullies. Then I realized that my bullies were kids just like me, and they didn’t know better. I therefore will address the letter to both the bullies and their enablers, mostly teachers. After all, bullying by kids who don’t know better is bad, but worse than that is the enabling of it by adults who should know better..

Dear bullies, dear teachers,

You, bullies, are too numerous to address individually. Most likely, none of you will ever even see this letter. It is an open letter, published on the Internet, not so much to shame you – which is why I won’t name you -, but to make you aware of the effects you had on me and to process these effects for myself.

Enabling teachers, you, too, are too numerous to address individually. Some of you will remember that I addressed you by name on an old version of an old blog. Rest assured, when I transferred the blog to a new site in 2007, I changed your names. I will not violate your privacy like this again. This letter is not intended to shame you personally, but again to make you aware of the effects of bullying and the inherent disability discrimination in your behaviors. If you ever teach a disabled student who is being bullied again, I hope you’ll remember my advice. Again, this is an open letter, so even if it doesn’t reach you, I hope it will reach teachers of disabled students anywhere.

Bullies, you, too, will most likely remember my name. For some of you, I was the only girl in your sixth grade class. For others, the odd, blind girl in your eighth grade grammar school class. I was the “bitch” to one of you, the “dwarf” to another.

In sixth grade, the only reason even the teachers could give for you bullying me, was that I was too smart. Yes, I was too smart, which is why YOU bullied me. Teachers, this is inverted reasoning. Bullies choose whoever they see as the easiest target. Making a buly victim a less easy target, may help that particular victim (although it is more likely to make them feel bad about themselves), but it will not end the bullying.

In eighth grade, your reasons were more valid, if reasons for bullying can ever be valid. Hint to the enabling teachers: NO THEY CAN’T. I didn’t take care of my personal hygiene. In your words, I stunk. I reacted with blunt comments when you wanted to help me and I didn’t want to be helped. The teachers favored me and some gave me higher grades than I deserved. I understand you had a hard time communicating these annoyances, but instead of going to my tutor, you chose to bully me until the tutor decided to go up to you. He organized a class for you in which you could spew your criticism of me. You eagerly did so, and I was told that if I just took care of my personal hygiene, stopped being blunt and stopped being favored by the teachers, the bullying would stop. It did, for a while.

A quick note on favoritism: giving a disabled student extra time on tests or an aide or whatever when their disability warrants it, is not favoring them. Giving a student a higher grade than they deserve, is. Make sure the school has documentation on the student’s needs: an IEP or 504 in the U.S., a statement of special educational needs in the UK, and I have no clue what it’s called in my own country because such thigns didn’t exist when I was in school; they hopefully do now. Such a document will detail the student’s accommodations and services. Non-disabled students should not be made aware of the peculiarities of the disabled student’s documentation; just say they have a statement/IEP/whatever and that it’s not the non-disabled students’ business to decide on the fairness of accommodations.

At this point I want to address the teachers again. Whenever I was troubled, as I was often throughout elementary and secondary school, you attempted to change me. Seven years into psychiatric treatment, I understand all about personal responsibility, and I understand that if I wanted to make friends, I had to be socially adept. I realize now that I didn’t have the social skills to be a good friend or even to avoid being an easy target for the bullies. That, still, doesn’t make me responsible for the bullying I endured.

You also need to know your limitations. You are not equipped to diagnose (or rule out) autism or to offer social skills training to an autistic student. You are not counselors, you are teachers. I understand you were the only ones to be reached when students saw me in despair, but please know your limits.

Now I want to talk about the effects bullying and its enabling had on me. Bullies, you made me feel like one piece of crap. Then again, enabling teachers, you made it worse by making me feel responsible. On said old blog, I wrote a post about a teacher who had kids vote an autistica student out of the classroom. I know you did your best to keep me in. I realize you, teachers, did what you thought was best given the tools and knowledge you had at the time. This is why I want to tell you to know your boundaries.‘I was undiagnosed with respect to autism at the time, but some of you knew I suspected it and actively worked to get this thought out of my head. This is beyond your professional responsibilities as a teacher.

I want to make it clear that all of you, my elementary and certainly secondary school teachers thought you were doing what was best for me. I know that the school system as it was in the 1990s and ealry 2000s wasn’t good for a multiply-disabled student. I can only hope it’s better now. I just want to say that with this letter, I’ve hopefully made you aware of some pitfalls of teaching a disabled student and how to avoid them.

Lastly, I want to thank my secondary school tutor (if you ever read this, you’ll know I mean you) in particular for making sure the principal didn’t single me out for a celebration of prestigious school achievement for being able to educate a blind student. Thanks for that.

How I Want to Be Remembered

I’ve neglected the recovery challenge for about a week, because I had so many other things to do and so many other things that inspired me to write. I just wrote but then deleted a post for word of the week on memories, and this reminded me to pick off again. Day five of the recovery challenge, after all, asks how you want to be remembered

I’ve been one to always be conscious of the fact that life isn’t endless. IN 2008, I experienced a period where I was convinced I wouldn’t make it to the end of the year. I have some hypochondriac tendencies, and at the time I was afraid that what later turned out to be a benign condition (eithe rirritable bowel syndrome or pelvic floor dysfunction), was cancer. I wasn’t one to go to the doctor easily, so it wasn’t till four years later that I got checked out.

I have also had suicidal ideation on more occasions than I’d like to admit. I never made a serious suicide attempt, but I did seriously consider it.

Nonjetheless, during these times of realizing how short and final life is, I never really thought about my legacy. Usually, I was either too depressed to think about anything beyond my death, or I didn’t really see death as the end. I don’t know how to explain that latter one. I also often didn’t feel that people would remember me if I died.

When I look deep inside of me, I want people to remember me when I’m gone, but how I want to be remembered, is a hard one. I don’t want people to be sad that I’m gone, because, well, who wishes sadness upon others? And yet in another way, I want people to be sad that they lost me, because I want to be cherished.

I remember when I was at my worst with respect to suicidality, I got some comments from people saying I should not kill myself because my family would have to pay for and arrange the funeral. That reminded me that, as I was at the time, I’d be remembered as a burden. I didn’t have my husband back then, so now even though the same people might still remember me as a burden, I might be remembered lovingly by someone.

I can say, as I did above, how I don’t want to be remembered. It is much harder to say how I do want people to remember me. This ties in with the question about things you like about yourself that was asked earlier in the challenge. For example, I want people to remember me as a creative person. Then again, it creeps me out to have my blog (assuming blogs still exist by the time I die) stay online beyond my death. I honestly don’t know whether I want to be remembered as an intelligent or stubborn person, although these are more likely qualities for people to describe me by than my creativity.

More importantly though than any qualities people remember of me, I want people to remember they liked me, and that is still very hard. I don’t have any friends and don’t have a particularly good relationship with my family. Also, I have a hard time believing even my husband likes me, so yeah, it’s hard to fathom that anyone would hold me in loving memory when I’m gone. At least I can work towards being a likeable person.