HOW BEING HOME ALONE HAS HELPED WITH BURNOUT.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy living with my parents, most of the time. My mother doesn’t know this, but her doctor has put her on antidepressants and she’s going into early onset, early stage dementia (she’s nearly 73).

One of the frustrating things I have had to deal with has been my father thinking some of my clothes were his and I have said to my parents, “Let me do the washing. I can remember some of these things that you forget.” But, no, it still happens. The last time it happened, my father was wearing a pair of my jeans.

I have been at home by myself for the past few days and will be until next Wednesday. Okay, I’ve got to care for my parents’ dog, and I’ve got Facebook friends, but I have been able to use the time to wash some of my clothes I haven’t worn for a while, change my bed sheets. (Okay, I know my father meant well, but I washed a set of sheets a little while ago but I happened to stand on one of them while it was clean with a dirty shoe and he put it away). As I go to hospital every three weeks, I have a plan that as it’s of a Thursday, I’ll change my bed sheets on the Wednesday, so that’s one less task to do on the Thursday morning.

Also, I like doing the washing my way. My mother has told me I have to move with the times, but I’m a rarity in that, I wash my dark colours first, my towels second, my ordinary colours third and my lights last, rather than throwing them all in. I wanted to hold up a t-shirt and say to my mother, “This was a plain white t-shirt when I bought it. Why do you think it has a dirty black mark on it, now?” And no, it wasn’t because someone used it to release the sump plug on my car, it’s because it was washed with something dark! And, I have had pairs of my black shorts returned with fluff on them because they were washed with towels!

I have a system whereby I do certain things on certain days, and it usually functions well.

My father asked me if I was lonely, and I was reminded of a guy I went to school with who, one day, said that he loved rainy weekends because you could sit inside with toasted sandwiches and watch a video. The teacher said, “That’s all good and well, and yes, we need the rain. But there are always lawns to mow and cars to wash.” The teacher’s point being that if it was raining and you couldn’t mow the lawn that weekend, the following weekend, it was an even bigger task. So, there’s always something to do.

I’m not an extrovert, but I find that you really only get lonely when boredom sets in. I remember 25 years ago, when my mother had to have a hysterectomy. My brother asked me if I was missing Mum and I, to his horror, said, “Not really.” It wasn’t that I didn’t care for my Mum, it was that, she was four kilometres away that time, but I was 5000 kilometres away in July, when I went to Japan. And also, I had to do the research for my postgraduate diploma thesis, answer phone calls for my father’s business and do the washing and ironing, so I didn’t have time to miss her. Just like when I was in Japan, I was doing many things, and it wasn’t until the night before I came home that I realised, “Oh, gee, I’ve been away for nearly a week and I only rang my parents twice.”

And, I have learnt to be suspicious of people who say they’re lonely. If their partner dies, okay, they might be lonely at home, but some people who are lonely are lonely because they are two-faced and manipulative. I have had relatives and people I’ve thought to be friends, who, to my face are all over me saying I’m their best friend and behind my back, they’re telling lies about me.

I have had times before where my parents have gone out and I’ve been home alone, and it’s enabled me to do things. I know it’s hard on my mother to go out due to her disability, but one thing that frustrates me is, if I want to do the washing, she tells me where to put it, and I have gone outside and started to put washing on the line and turned around to find her sitting behind me in her wheelchair. She has yet to grasp the fact that many autistic people prefer to do things alone, rather than with others.

Don’t get me wrong, my parents don’t keep me locked away, I can go out whenever I want to and don’t need permission, but there are times when I need some silence and just time to myself.

The only thing that does me a bit sad is that my cat, Nutsy, is no longer alive, but what I would like to get is a rescue kitten with a similar personality to Nutsy, who can be a companion animal. People say that dogs are better than cats for autistic people, but I say, not necessarily. Okay, maybe, ideally, I would like a cat AND a dog, but I would have to have them together from when they were a puppy and a kitten. The pros and cons of both come down to your personality. A dog can be good, if you want to go for a walk, as sometimes, a dog will come to you and bark as if to say, “Time for my walk.” A cat, however, and this is where Nutsy and I were great mates, will want your affection on its terms. Nutsy would come into my room and jump up onto my laptop as if to say, “Okay, give that a break. I want your attention, now.” Nutsy would then climb onto my lap and purr and he’d come and lie on my bed resting his head on my legs. Nutsy was also comforting after a meltdown.

So, I can still stay living where I am (Nutsy being buried in the backyard is a source of comfort) but I need these little breaks to be able to reset.