I'm having a hard time being nice to myself right now

Long talk with my (favourite) professor yesterday, and we decided that a "strategic withdrawl" from this semester, and from academia in general, is a good thing right now. I just can't do it. I'm smart (I swear) but my brain is covered in some kind of clingfilm. I just... I can't absorb academics right now.

I bombed at Public Speaking class- and that's, essentially, what I *do* for a living, and what I *want* to do for a living, so there went *that* class before I turned myself altogether, and then this month-long stint of hiding in the house, hiding from everything, and I just can't come back from that right now- I could promise to, but I wouldn't be able to follow through.

So now I'm sitting back and looking at my options- I've applied for some jobs, I'm using my networks. I might even be able to work in disability advocacy, which is where my heart is right now. I won't lose the apartment, that's secure, and I just... I need some time to find myself. I haven't told my Mom, or anyone, yet really, except Lady.

That's so hard. I wish I could explain to you how smart I used to be. When I was little, school was a *breeze*- I was literally smarter, by 4 or 5 grade levels than everyone else . Whatever was going on at home, abuse, the fighting, the locked doors and the days when Mom would come in and take me in her arms, holding me tighter than I needed to hold her, ever, and tell me that *everyone* was having a day off from school today and we'd curl up in the big bed because my bio dad had hurt her worse that day than she could hide with make up and a smile. All of that didn't matter- once I was in my desk, I was in *the zone* and I was top of the class, every year, for 13 years.

First two years of university were easy too, but I was *so* young. I was 18 years old with no real idea of who I was in the world, or what I wanted to be.

And now, now I'm just going through the motions and the anxiety is crushing and those last 10 courses seem like a long, tortuous road that I'm never going to find the end of, and right now I just can't.

But everyone else expects me to be *so* smart.

And it's just not enough anymore.

Mom's clean when they're stressed? I seriously did not know this

So....

When I came home from my week at my friend's, I found my room spotless, bed made with love. My Mom did it.

I can only think of a few times since age 16 when my Mom has made my bed.... Usually after my surgeries when I'm too sick to think much about it.

In a way, I hate the way I did things last week- Just taking off like that. But I couldn't think of any other way, and it's all working out.... I hate that I hurt her, but hopefully with some space some healing can take place.

Security deposit paid on the apartment. They can't take it away now :)

Am still blocked on the Sensory Integration post ideas. Does anyone have any questions I could use as jump off points?

Also... I know this is a sensitive issue but I thought I might ask....

You all have such great advice...

I recently recieved confirmation that sexual abuse I remembered in my childhood did happen. I don't want to press charges- I don't even know what the statute of limitations would be, and I don't *want* to know...

But I've been on overdrive. Rapid heartbeat for days, sensory integration things so bad I can't brush my teeth (I *wish* I could....)

Mom desperately wants me to be able to forget about it... "Put it in a box" she said....

I don't think I can without....someting.

Welcome!

I hope I don't turn off any of the wonderful Awesome Moms I've found through my research into RAD with the name of this blog- Being a Lesbian is only a small part of who I am.

The "Rolladyke" nickname is used with utmost affection by my friends because I am a Wheelchair user, as well as a veritable roll-a-dex of information like cellphone numbers, other people's schedules, random facts about politics, medgeekery, first names and social information of University support staff and a plethora of connections in the University English Department and Government agencies. Guess Mom didn't realise what she was starting when she made me case manager of my ISSP (IEP team for my American friends) when I was a Sophmore in High School.

I am currently pursuing an English/Psychology degree with an eye towards Narrative Therapy or Attachment Therapy as a life path, hence my interest in RAD. I also volunteer as Youth Advocacy Facilitator with a Canada-Wide Youth exchange which is completely cross-disability. Here, I have worked with youth with mobility impairments (I have CP myself) Cystic Fibrosis, Ehler Dalos Syndrome, Traumatic Brain Injury, ADHD, ODD and FASD.

In my daily life, I also live with anxiety and depression, as well as PTSD from some of the CP treatments and emotional/sexual abuse I endured as a child. I am recovering well with the help of talk therapy and energy work, as well as a supportive social network which I hope includes all of you as well!

Please, ask me questions- I follow your lives avidly, and it's time you were at least able to follow mine if you liked.

Light, Love and Energy,

Ashley