PROM NIGHT II—LONELINESS IN A PANDEMIC

Years of meditation practice have allowed me to sometimes approximate a sane person.

The other day, I awoke inundated by cortisol and genuine worries, both pandemic-related and other. I didn’t know how I would get out of bed, much less make it through a very full day. 

Sitting up halfway, trying to muster my gumption to get a move on, a question popped into the tiny bit of spaciousness my meditation practice has created in my head: 

Is there some way I can see this differently?

I didn’t have an answer, actually. But it made a little room in my heart to not feel quite so despondent. Times like these, that's a precious gift. 

Subsequently, I’ve been finding plenty of applications for a “see-this-differently” approach! 

One area that's ripe for a bigger vision? My son's senior year. 

For the class of 2020, there’s no senior prom. No big, festive graduation. I hear that some kids (well, young adults, at this point) are defying social-distancing rules and hanging out without protections. But mine aren’t. Most others aren’t, either. 

And these kids are lonely. All of them. Not just the marginalized kids. Not just the students who don’t “fit in,” or are “different.”

In a way, it’s kind of an amazing moment for the latter groups, I suspect. 

Popular people just can’t be popular in the same ways while sheltering in place. And perhaps people who are often lonely can’t judge themselves (and others) in the usual ways. This is simply how it is—for everybody.

Is it possible that pandemic-induced social isolation actually mitigates the social isolation that so many feel in their usual day-to-day lives? 

I think of my mother-in-law, who—despite having seven living children—rarely sees anyone besides a caregiver who comes for a few hours every day and the one daughter who lives in the same city. 

Now, she must feel less disappointed—because nobody’s seeing anybody. I hope so, anyway. 

I think of my son, who as a junior so assiduously tried to get a date for the prom—with no success. At that time, I began to pre-worry about this year's prom. 

These days, I’ve been asking myself if the lack of prom is actually a great way for those who might not have found a date to avoid a lifetime of that bad memory? 

That said, is social-distancing in some ways a blessing in disguise for students who struggle socially? Especially those who connect better digitally? 

Has this terrible pandemic created online social spaces that are more accepting? 

If everybody is lonely, are some lonelier than others? Or are our children (and elders, and selves) being equally lonely, together but apart? Maybe even experiencing loneliness in ways that might make them (us) more compassionate and inclusive for the long term? 

In other words, is this challenging period in some ways a powerful equalizer? Aside from all the myriad challenges and tragedies, are we finally learning to create a world in which there’s more acceptance and our real gifts shine and we can be free to be ourselves? (I know a lot of wild animals certainly feel that way right now.) 

Also, I'm wondering what will continue to resonate most after we’ve moved through the pandemic—the terrible loneliness and fear, or the unprecedented shared experience of an extraordinary time?

I certainly see how this global crisis exacerbates inequalities around access and economics, and I genuinely fear many of us, and many of our towns and cities, may not be able to recover—for a very long time.I mourn for the hundreds of thousands dead, and for their living loved ones who couldn't be with them at the end.I'm deeply grateful for the many brave essential workers who have risked their lives to keep civilization functioning worldwide. 

Here in my own small, relatively safe universe, I nevertheless experience waves of such sadness, fear, plain-old grumpiness...So I’m trying to see things slightly differently, in the interest of family and community morale, in general, and personal sanity, in particular.

May we in our mutual loneliness find ways to uplift ourselves and each other. Some days, that’s going to be really hard. On those days, may we remember that it's possible to see our lives from another perspective.  

Stay well, dear persons.

You are not alone in your fears or your loneliness or your joys, and you are loved,

Full Spectrum Mama

BOOTY CRUMBS II

In Booty Crumbs I, which was mostly about how some of us notice certain things a LOT, there was a discussion in the comments about how hard it can be to get some kids with sensory processing differences to notice Crumbs (boogers, dribbles…), on their faces and elsewhere, under any circumstances.

Hygiene is a huge issue in the Full Spectrum household because G

1. Doesn’t notice schmutz, or

2. Acknowledge the necessity of basic, routine grooming,

3. Doesn’t care about either, and

4. Doesn’t have great executive function and so forgets even with multiple

    reminders.

Bottom line, G doesn’t give a rip – and getting him to do stuff like wash his face in the morning or clean giant glops of food off his fingers could be a full time job.

I worry about this for two reasons. First, I fear it threatens his hard-won social belonging. Second, it is part of the underlying sensory overwhelm that G experiences in many contexts – what the Asperger Experts call “defense mode.” G’s general awareness of how/what he feels – physically, emotionally -- can be undermined by an underlying overabundance of sensory and emotional information. 

Before I was aware of how certain experiences and environments affect me, I would feel anxious, desperate, dull, angry, numb – and I’d have no idea why I felt that way, and very few resources to quell these inner (for me – others may tend to lash out) storms…I now know this phenomena is known as a MELTDOWN. Things like unrelenting social interactions, feeling cold or, yes, Booty Crumbs, can trigger overload in me and lead to a wide range of negative feelings that are too big to process unless I am able to remember at that moment why I am having the feelings. I am learning to find environments that better support my neurology – and to take sensory breaks when that is not possible.  

Seeing the differences in G’s awareness and demeanor in different contexts has shown me that he is intensely affected by his environment. That sometimes means that he doesn’t have the attention or mental space for noticing stuff on his body, or doing things to keep his body “presentable.” Just as I’ve begun to address my own sensory and neurological needs, what it might take to create a context for my son in which he is willing and able to attend to his own hygiene routine and general bodily cleanliness without so much effort on my part?

Just the other night, I asked G if he had brushed his teeth.

He said he had.

I felt his toothbrush: bone dry!

Having spent several minutes brushing our teeth together morning and night for the last few years (since the dentist told me this was non-negotiable if G wanted to “have teeth”), and having each of those times painstakingly wrangled him into participating, letting G self-regulate on tooth brushing has been a big leap forward.

I was – maybe I was lacking perspective but – devastated…and mad: “Don’t you realize you could die???? If your teeth are rotten and you don’t take care of your mouth you will get diseases! And you will NOT be handsome!”

Full Spectrum Mama needed to go meditate. (Since G was a baby who needed a lot of support in going to sleep, I’ve tried to practice meditating nearby – usually in the hall outside our bedrooms -- after bedtime. Note: this does not always happen as planned!)  

G walked into the hallway where I sat, then into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

After a few moments, I saw this:

                                       Figure I – The Sideways, and Therefore “Invisible,” Sneaky Peek

He saw me seeing him:

                                                            Figure II – The Seething Meditator

…and went back to brushing his teeth.

How does tooth brushing relate to Booty Crumbs? Well, in both cases, is constant vigilance the answer? Already, with one kid with an attachment disorder, I have to watch the every move of one person in our home. With G, I’ve tried charts, lists, points…and am beginning to conclude that these are not the solution.

My own experience shows that -- for those of us with sensory processing differences -- self-awareness (emotional, social, physical…) may have more to do with finding ways to modulate one’s overall sensory and neurological situation than with the rote learning of ways to manage schmutz. I am in a place now where I am just very much hoping that somewhere in his own particular developmental process he/we will create the mental/physical space in which it becomes possible to note the intrinsic value of Booty Crumb removal.

For now, though, it’s back to brushing our teeth together.

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

An InLinkz Link-up