Spectrummy Mummy

Asperger's, Allergies, and Adventures Abroad

Posts Tagged ‘crime

The Whole Story

with 30 comments

I haven’t written about what has been going on, but I’ve decided that all parts of the story need to be told.  This month has been hard.  I need to let my friends who call me a super-mum know that I’m really not feeling super.  I need to explain that although we love living here, it comes at a price.  But most of all, I just need to tell the truth about hard times, because I know many people are going through even longer, tougher, more challenging times.  It isn’t fair to them, or myself to pretend everything is fine.

So, this month has been hard.  Mostly it has been difficult because I’ve been unwell.  So as not to scare away my (three) male readers, I’ll refer to my health issues as some ongoing lady problems that have been getting progressively worse.  Ultimately, I’m now very anaemic, which is good in that it is treatable, but bad in that it makes me feel lousy.  I’m weak and tired.  My brain feels like mush, and can’t seem to retain any information, I’m forgetting appointments.  I have heart palpitations, and wake up with numb hands, arms and feet.  My immune system is struggling, so I’m catching every germ I come across, and each one is hitting me hard.

Some of my medications have nasty side-effects too, and one weekend my fingers swelled up and I had to have my wedding and engagement rings cut off.  But I am receiving treatments, including iron injections every two weeks so that I’ll be back to speed in weeks rather than months.  Though I can’t exercise at the moment, I’m doing my best to rest, eat an iron-rich diet, and take all the supplements to support the healing process.  It just takes time.

I’m spending much more time indoors than I have previously while living in South Africa.  Unfortunately, living in a house with bars on the windows inevitably feels a lot like living in a prison, this is made all the worse by the fact that recent events mean I don’t feel as safe in my home as I used to.  Earlier this month, there was an armed robbery on our compound.  By a huge stroke of luck, all the families who live here were out at the time.  Generally on a Saturday afternoon, either our children or our neighbours are playing where the incident happened.  Anyone who has a young child on the spectrum knows that in the face of danger, they are likely to behave unpredictably.  I’ve lost many hours of sleep thinking about what might have happened if we hadn’t gone out that day.  The security officers here are great, and have already made some changes to minimize the risk of this happening again, but I’m shaken that an electric fence, gate, and security guard were ultimately so easy to overcome.

It has been hard because I’m always far more homesick after my parents visit than I am before.  Homesickness and culture shock are wrapped tightly together.  The more you miss home, the more alien a place can seem.  I’m struggling to remind myself to enjoy all the wonderful people and places here, rather than wishing for September to get here for an R & R trip back to England.

Last week brought things to a head.  I forgot to take Pudding swimming one day, then Cubby to OT another.  Then Cubby was ill, followed by Pudding too.  Instead of wanting to rest in bed, my kids become more hyperactive when they’re sick.  Not only was I struggling to keep up with them, but I’d missed the very things that help them to regulate.  By Friday, I was just exhausted.  Not only was I feeling too weary to face the effort of getting Pudding into school, or schedule an appointment for a 24-hour EEG for a child who couldn’t handle a 30 minute one; but I was too drained to get through another ordinary day.

Far from the “super-mum” a friend called me in an email, I was feeling physically and emotionally at rock bottom, and taking my frustrations out on the very people who most need my love and support.  When Spectrummy Daddy got home from work, I took a bath, and let my tears fall into the water, until most of the tension left me.  After we’d got the kids to sleep, we talked about what measures we could take to make things easier.  But, once I’d finally let go of trying to keep everything together, I no longer felt like I was coming apart.

It isn’t the end of this hard month yet, but I’m starting to feel stronger.  Yesterday when the car broke down, I didn’t join it.  I was just grateful it happened with Spectrummy Daddy there, and in a safe place.  I’m using visual strategies to keep me on track of the things I need to do this week, and hopefully that will keep me from getting too overwhelmed.  After all, if it is good enough for Pudding, it is good enough for me too.

So now I’ve honoured the truth.  I’m not a super-mum.  Though I love living here, it does come at a cost.  I can go through hard times, and while they have absolutely nothing to do with autism, they can challenge my ability to parent.  I’m going to keep telling the whole story, even if I’m hoping that this particular chapter will come to an end soon.

Written by Spectrummy Mummy

March 26, 2012 at 11:50 am

Safe Heaven

with 5 comments

In our home we have a safe haven. A secure area we can retreat to in the event of danger. Before we arrived, somebody had tried to sort through our large collection of keys to label them, and so we found the keys for our “safe heaven.”

It made me smile, because in so many ways, where we live is like paradise. The weather is glorious, the people friendly, the country amazingly beautiful, but with all the conveniences we’re used to. I can’t believe how fortunate we are to call this place home for the next three years. It surely is heaven.

Apart from one thing: the crime. It is hard to match up this glorious land of sunshine and smiles with the frightening statistics. Car-jackings, personal invasions (armed robbery of private residences), smash and grabs, muggings are all alarmingly commonplace here. It is the rape capital of the world. Living in the Northern suburbs, our affluence is a stark contrast to the poverty of the townships. There are parts of this city I will never visit. Even here I will always be on alert.

I’ve never lived anywhere like this before, and I can’t believe how much I took for granted that feeling of peace of mind.

When friends asked how I liked South Africa when we first arrived, I responded that it was like England, but with better weather and worse crime.

Then England rioted.

Seemingly out of nowhere, first London, then other parts of England came under siege. I struggled to believe it, this is England. This is my safe haven, where I would always return with the children if things got too crazy elsewhere. Suddenly it seems safer here than over there.  Severe cuts to the police force left them instantly overwhelmed.

Of course, this looting and violence didn’t suddenly spring up. It seems that the motivations for the riots are different in different parts of the country. Just as there are multiple causes: a cocktail of political, racial, cultural, and economic reasons, so will the ultimate solution be difficult and complex. I don’t have any answers here.

Yet the reasons people are putting forward to explain this senseless shift to chaos are intriguing. A generation of children and young adults who are alienated from the rest of society, who are so disengaged that they feel no empathy for the pain and destruction they are causing to others. Young adults who feel their futures are so hopeless that they opt for instant gratification regardless of the consequences. Entire sections of community at odds with one another, and a pervasive mistrust of authority.

Alienated, disengaged, lacking empathy, hopeless- these are the words I’ve read recently to describe the people of my homeland. The neurotypicals of my homeland at that. It is interesting to me that the same words which are often used (incorrectly) to describe adults and children with autism are being applied to entire sections of community. I would love to understand what is happening in England, but the causes are mysterious and complicated.

I’m ashamed at the violence directed against innocents.  A teenager even tried to mug my friend as she walked with her baby in her neighbourhood in broad daylight.  I’m proud of the way others rallied together to clean up the mess.

The Prime Minister described society as “sick”, but he failed to offer a cure. We are invited to see the rioters as different to us.  And while I can’t imagine tearing up my homeland, neither can I imagine feeling alienated, hopeless and disengaged.

As the police regained control and the courts are dealing with the fall-out, we are learning that those involved in the riots appear to come from all sections of society: a number of students, a teaching assistant and an 11 year-old girl are among those facing charges. For a while, the rules were gone, chaos reigned, and the thrill of the mob was too appealing for many. England was in meltdown. If these people have taken part in destroying their communities, we have to ask ourselves why, even if the answers are mysterious and complicated. Even if a solution is hard to find.

It pains me to think of my home country being torn apart, to see places I’ve lived and visited being destroyed. Just as it pains me to think of the crime in this beautiful country where I now live. Just a few miles from the townships, I can close my gates, lock my doors, and enjoy a relatively safe heaven. But I can’t help but feel sad that I have experienced a different England and South Africa to many.

And that my haven will only feel safe under lock and key, away from the alienated, disengaged, and hopeless.  Peace of mind is increasingly a slice of heaven that few of us can experience, no matter where we live.

Written by Spectrummy Mummy

August 12, 2011 at 1:29 am

Wordless Wednesday 10 Aug 11

with one comment

Security

I was dreading living surrounded by all this security. Now I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have all these protective measures.

Peace of mind is beautiful.

Happy Wordless Wednesday everyone, and be safe wherever you are.

Written by Spectrummy Mummy

August 10, 2011 at 3:21 am