A little less whimsy for a moment

…asking for accommodations can be scary.

A set of soothing pictures I’ve taken

🍃I’ve been dealing with the overwhelm of a professional matter, and the below is a sorting of that overwhelm. If paperwork and codes of conduct stress you out, or you aren’t a fan of written sorting, please feel free to skip this post. If you want a insight into my brain (stories commiserating are super welcome, unsolicited advice is not appreciated) then keep reading.🍂

🦀🦀🦀(everything was crabs but I think I’m ok post the writing of this)🐢🐢🐢

I’m not sure how to start this. Talking about the ways in which I’m not quite built for this world is difficult. I’m really good a at fair number of things. Organizing events. Soothing people. Managing crises. Making waffles. Letting my friends know I love them.

I am also pretty decent at:

1. Writing daily

2. Painting things I love

3. Customer service when it involves books, and/or interactions with gentle humans

4. Reading

5. Walking in the forest

6. Looking after my kids, my dog, doing the dishes fairly regularly

Things I have difficulty with:

1. Staying on top of the mountain of laundry

2. Taking unsolicited advice

3. Being told what to do and how to do it

4. Paperwork

5. Demands in general

6. New places

7. Finding parking if I’m late for something

8. Figuring out the way a restaurant works if I’m in a state of overwhelm

9. Watching children being berated or physically handled by adults who have lost their patience

10. (Oh this list is long, I realize as I write it)

I often find myself in heightened states in and around parts of my menstrual cycle. There are things that wouldn’t bother me at all that put me into near meltdown the week before I’m about to bleed. I track my own cycle, because I want to be able to stay aware of how it affects the way I manage things, and let the people around me know that I may need accommodations.

My mother, when I was little, would just say things like “get off me” or “don’t touch me”, and I see now how those times may have been related to her overwhelm and difficulties and discomfort.

I’m grateful that I had her as a model of…what not to do? I tried to explain early on to my children what it felt like to experience the beginnings of overwhelm, and gave them tools to manage and cope. At the time I had not realized I was autistic, but had imagined that I had an enzyme disorder, like my mother, who had self-diagnosed her experiences with that.

Thing is. No matter how much I avoided the foods and chemicals she prescribed, I would still find myself in meltdowns.

In my 30s, I realized that it was highly likely that I was autistic, and that so were my children. But the difference was that I had worked with autistic children and adults, and I had developed methods for grounding, and co-regulation that kept me and my family mostly grounded.

I encouraged time alone as a recovery space, instead of time outs as a punishment. I offered books and soft gentle spaces as refuge instead of forcing my kids to learn to read.

I set up times for getting our overwhelm out by stimming, dancing, and being in nature.

Living in a neurodiverse household we were able to make space for each other in ways that I hadn’t always experienced while at school, or my workplaces.

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This is still hard to write about.

Currently I have two jobs who are excited about who I am, and that I’m not masking anymore (though I sometimes still do when I feel unsafe, or when managing the expectations of allistic folks).

But I applied for a third job. Because my divorce salary ends at the end of this year, and I’m afraid that I’ll need to go back to working more often (I’m already exhausted after three active shifts, where I’m on my feet for 7 hours, and peopling for most of that time on Tuesday/Wednesday).

I finished writing my novelette, which means I have more time to work.

So I applied for a very very part time job with a pro-autistic org that supports autistic folks and their families. It sounded like a dream. I did the interview. I got the job. But now I’m in the paperwork phase. I submitted my background check stuffs, yay me!) I filled out my on boarding info (woohoo!).

…but then last night I received four documents to read and to sign.

This past week I have been in weepy/grumpy/sensitive mode. Last night I was at the peak of my overwhelm when I read the code of conduct. It used words like “appropriate” behaviour and “position of power” and though I completely understood where they were coming from cerebrally…I felt discomfited. I don’t ever really want to be in a position of power. I prefer the idea of position of responsibility. I take my responsibilities very seriously.

But power makes me feel gross and overwhelmed. It also described the ways in which I’d never really be able to talk about what I was working on or with. And that makes so much sense.

But I process by writing and talking about what happens in my day, and I’m not sure I could do that.

I also felt that the asks the organization was making might outsider me in the autistic community I was just coming to know, by putting me in a position of authority, when all I really want to do is help and facilitate.

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Yep, still hard to write this. I should actively say that I do not want advice in this situation. That what I’m doing is sorting out loud.

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Thankfully my best friend was able to make space to listen to me last night, and hilariously quoted a mediation from Richard Wagamese’s ‘Embers’ that I’d sent to her early on in the day, not knowing that it would be applicable last night.

At the end of my sorting she just said “Fuck, eh.” And I laughed so hard and my panic nearly and completely dissolved.

(I highly recommend Embers if you’re needing some perspective. I come from up north in Manitoba, and my Dad is Métis (as am I, as is my best friend) and I spent a lot of time around folks from several Cree nations and the humour/wisdom of my friends, mentors and community is something I miss terribly and deeply)

But yeah. And then today I woke up, exhausted but excited to walk with a friend who work in DEI and they listened to my dilemma and I asked for their wisdom and they suggested I ask for accommodations in the hiring process. (They also gave me a cupcake and it was DELICIOUS and beautiful, I will tell them that because I forgot!)

Then I asked another friend at the farmers market who worked in policy and she also suggested asking for accommodations.

(Hilariously my partner had suggested the same thing when I was amidst panic mode last night, and had let them know I wasn’t ready for solutions, and they were so gently accepting of my boundary. And today I let them know how helpful it was that they respected me. Also that their thoughts had been reiterated multiple times by others. And now they are reading my request for accommodations because I also value their wisdom)

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Oof. This has been a big one to write.

If you’re here for the whimsy, I apologize. Actually I’ll put a content advisory up top so you don’t have to wade through this unless you’re feeling it.

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So instead of making a quick quitting decision last night (like every fibre in my body was requesting), I took what little self awareness I had access to, and I slept. I sought the comfort of friendship. I checked in with some wise folks. I ate something (my kids and I have a hilarious saying “before you quit something, eat something”, and it’s good for us wisdom.

And right now, I’m going to send an email, asking for accommodations and more information so I don’t sign something that makes me feel uncomfortable.

And maybe I’ll take the job, and maybe I won’t.

But I’m actually really proud of myself (I don’t like it when people who don’t know me say they are proud of me, I prefer to use the word impressed when I’m interacting with strangers) for getting through what could be a difficult thing, and not burning a beautiful bridge that may lead me to helping my community in significant ways.

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I think that’s it? I’m not sure. I was so exhausted/overwhelmed yesterday that I didn’t write my prompts, but I think I’ll wait until next Wednesday.

I appreciate you absurdly, and hope you encounter the magic of something like this unexpected flower in your day.

Heart,

Wake