As this blog is meant to describe me, as an autistic person, and I did post in the past about some of my difficult emotions I think it’s only fair to also post when I feel better. So basically, I feel incredibly excited since yesterday afternoon. I have no idea what I am excited about: my shop cleaning job finished two days ago and my DBS is still not back. I received a letter from mum’s bank and they’re not going to refund her any of the stolen money that we have no evidence for, so what she’s going to get is like 10 percent of what was stolen and the bank is having difficulties to even admit their employee was stealing – they don’t even use the word fraud but instead call it ‘this situation’. Fantastic.

Home Group did not even contact me regarding the email I sent two weeks ago – this is, I guess, them saying they don’t really care about what happened to me, as long as their business is intact. It’s really strange that all those big companies create procedures for similar situations, and then, as things happen, the employees never follow them because they don’t want to disturb the internal politics. Would someone working in a customer service department stand up against their CEO – as I already contacted him and he ignored me? As much as I understand that in hindsight, having procedures that state a different behaviour is expected is only clouding my, autistic, judgment – if there was no procedures at all I’d be much better at predicting other people behaviour, or at least that’s what I think. I wonder what Professor Simon Baron-Cohen would say about that.

Ok, moving on from Home Group – I decided to complain to University of Cambridge about Professor Simon Baron-Cohen and his extreme inability to communicate with me. As I stated in one of my previous posts, I felt at some point that it’s getting a bit better but then suddenly Professor sent me an email to say he feels sorry for me, which just totally didn’t make any sense. I do not feel sorry for myself at all. In general it is said that autistics tent to have misunderstandings with people, but I’d expect it will be a bit better when you talk to world famous autism researcher, and instead it’s much worse. Professor Simon Baron-Cohen has an incredible ability to misinterpret absolutely everything that I am saying, therefore what value his research has? I only contacted University of Cambridge yesterday afternoon (Friday) about it so it’s too early to say anything. As much as I am curious about what will happen, I doubt my excitement comes from that.

I managed to secure another temporary job, in a warehouse this time – in a food distribution centre, I will be starting a training on Monday (it’s Saturday today) and it will include… driving pallet truck! I wonder how I’ll get on with that. Please keep your fingers crossed for me. Is it possible that my excitement comes from that? Possibly my subconscious mind already knows that I’ll be ok there, will get noticed for my ability to follow procedures and understanding systems and will keep getting promotion after promotion until I get to the very top? Oh well, probably not, but I’m very curious about how I will cope. I never tried this kind of job before so it will be interesting to see how it will work out.

I was also thinking that possibly I should have two part time jobs instead of one. I used to do that in the past and I quite liked it: the transition from one job to the other helped me to release any tension; while being in one job only makes me feel trapped. I suppose there should be more understanding in the society for having two jobs – it seems like it’s often being seen as a sign of failure, inability to commit or possibly not being wanted anywhere full time. But the question is: do we need to commit? Obviously if you want to progress commitment is needed but plenty of us don’t want that, we just want to pay the bills and have some money left for fun things, so what is the commitment for?

It’s snowing at the moment, and it’s extremely windy. I’m unlikely to leave my flat today. I decided, however, I shouldn’t be spending all day in bed so I moved to the living room and I’m on the sofa… such fun! I don’t suppose I’m excited for that either. As I stay in I may do some updates on the blog: I decided symbols (as a form of communication) will get their own tag, as so Redecor. Redecor is a very important part of my life now, hard to understand how I coped without it, and I’ve only been playing for around 10 months. The more patterns I have available to use, the more fun it is, although again, I don’t suppose my excitement is caused by the game.

Did I mention I baked another lot of beetroot muffins? I used better quality beetroots this time and added some almond essence – they’re much better this time, no beetroot flavour, so this is, I think, the way to go with my baking. However, again, I don’t suppose that is what I’m excited about.

I also realised a little while ago how much better my mental health is now, when I don’t work in a care home any more. Possibly I should never go back to this kind of job? And not because I’m not a caring person. One thing that I found extremely difficult was the need to constantly switch between tasks: I could not do one thing for long enough before a different resident needed an urgent assistance. On top of that all that bitchiness you get there… God help me, seriously! And the problem is I tend to oversimplify everything where people are involved. I can think, for example, that everyone who works in a care home is caring so they will be nice people. And believe me, some staff really are not! And I don’t talk here about scandals like Winterbourne at all; the staff may be actually caring towards residents but bitchy towards themselves – not fun.

Ok, end of post. What am I excited about though? I still don’t know, but it’s a nice change at last.

I want my mum

I spoke with mum the first time in a bit today, as she wasn’t feeling good earlier. Nurses never asked me to speak with her regardless and I felt uncomfortable askig for it, also, if I have to be totally honest, I didn’t want to speak with her knowing that she may be unable to hold sensible conversation. So today, when I called the care home and the nurse said my mum is not too bad, I asked to speak with her, and unfortunately, I wasn’t able to communicate with her at all.

I started with saying that I wanted to talk to her and in response she was just repeating the word ‘talk’ in every sentence, but the sentences didn’t really make sense, except the first one, when she said she’s not in a mood to talk. ‘But I am your daughter – I thought. – Do you not want to talk to me?’

She always wanted me to call more often and I wasn’t doing that because, most of the time, we didn’t really have much to say to each other. She didn’t understand the world I live in and I didn’t want to talk to her about my problems as she would never give me any sensibe advice. One thing she used to say a lot was that I should move to a smaller flat. She didn’t understand that I can easily afford where I live and having an extra bedroom allows for more storage and having guests over (not that that happens a lot). Mind you, she was staying in that bedroom for 9 months and the plan was that she’d stay with me to the end of her life. Well, that was my plan; her plan was rather different.

I think she only came to stay with me because she wanted to show my brother that she can leave, hoping that would give him a wake up call and he’d stop drinking as a result. It didn’t work. My brother in fact realised with time he was better off when mum was at home as there always was food on the table and he wanted her back, and me – to take care of her, but he continues to drink.

I feel so sorry for myself thinking the time I spent with mum, when she was here, was so affected by all those problems we had at the time, and that are still present. I mean my brother drinking – it often felt like my mum brought my brother with him, as she was unable to stop thinking whether he paid electricity bill, whether he has something to eat and what if he kills himself because he was left all by himself.

On top of that she was constantly worrying about the money that was stolen from her by her favourite bank employee and the bank reaction, that, let’s be honest, was totally unacceptable – they didn’t take us seriously at all till after we informed the police. Mum was so worried about that money, even though she had no sensible plan of spending it. She was always very tight with money and once started argument with me because I bought a pack of penne even though I still had a little bit of spaghetti left in the cupboard.

I felt so powerless over her moods and so disappointed that she’s unhappy. I thought I’d make her life easier as she was able to go to town every day and do some shopping in Polish supermarket that had much better choice than the local shop in our village. I thought I’d make her life easier because she doesn’t have to have arguments with my brother any more, and yet, she let him scream at her over the phone.

If I have to be honest, I’m not terribly sure I wanted her to live with me. But I wanted to make her happy.

When she was here I really didn’t believe she may have dementia. Her memory was actually quite good and only recently I found out that there’s this type of dementia where memory doesn’t get affected to begin with. I did notice she changed and her ability to make connections between facts wasn’t great, but I thought, well, she never was terribly bright, she is getting oder and was through loads of stress, so that must be it.

There was only this one moment when I really thought something was terribly wrong. We started watching a film with quite a compex story and after around 20 minutes she summed it up in a way that a child probably would, simplifying everything that we saw. I was so shocked when I’ve heard her, especially that my mum used to like a good film. And then, after she said that, she didn’t want to watch it any more, she said it was strange.

So that was the moment when I thought something must really be wrong with her, but then, what I was supposed to do, call an ambulance? There’s no treatment for dementia and the drugs available can only reduce some symptoms.

In a way I’m really glad she only deteriorated when she was already in a care home and when I had power of attorney. If that happened here, when she would still be able to walk and I wouldn’t have access to her savings, I don’t know what I would do.

When I was speaking with her today, I remember myself thinking, I wanted to move her to a private care home because her understanding was still good, and now it’s not (or, to be precise, her speaking isn’t), so does that mean I’m wasting money? But it’s her money and she deserves quality of life that government care home was unable to provide (it was so crowded that if one in 10 residents would want to get out of bed and walk around the staff wouldn’t be able to perform their duties as it would be too chaotic).

Whether mum has dementia or not I don’t want her to spend the rest of her life in bed, unless she’s unable to get up any more, of course. But I wouldn’t want her to suffer for too long.

What I wanted to say when I started this post is that whenever I was faced with a demand I thought was too much for me, I would curl up in bed and refuse to do anything about it and mum was always making an effort to talk me out of my misery and finally she’d succeed. I want to do the same now: my mum has dementia, I’m not dealing with this, ever. I want my mum to come and talk me out of not dealing with her dementia. Does that make any sense?

Today is my day off but I feel rather groggy. I used the SAD lamp in the morning, as usual, but I think it may be general refusal to deal with life and the cold outside. It’s possible that the lamp is helping but is not remedy for everything.

Flight to Bangkok

I saw an add about discounted flights to Bangkok and thought, let me try to book, just to see how much they are, and return was supposed to start from just over 370 pounds, which is very cheap. However, like it often happens, when I chose my dates and wanted to proceed to booking, the website informed me there’s no flights available. Well, I wouldn’t go anyway, I was just checking.

My resposibility for now is to stay in the UK and wait for my DBS. I was informed by the company that offered me a live in care job, it is still on stage 4, that means at my local police station, and nothing can be done till it’s pass 90 days. 90 days, I didn’t even know it could be that long! Hopefully it won’t get to that. I think it’s been 30 now.

I had loads of energy yesterday and I attributed it to my SAD lamp. I was thinking, if it continues like that, tidying will become my new hobby. Today, however, I feel somehow tired, and I don’t know if it’s because I didn’t use the lamp properly as The Boyfriend was here and socket is on the side of the bed that he normally uses, or maybe we need to get tired from time to time to get rest. I really don’t know, but I also started having the impression that my joints are not as stiff as they used to be. Hard to say if this can also be attributed to the lamp, I never read anything about it.

Yesterday I read an article on BBC about two British female celebrities who admitted to be diagnosed autistic as adults. They were television presenter Melanie Sykes and Christine McGuiness, a model. I am really pleased to hear about those two, even though before reading that article I never heard of them (I’m not interested in celebrities and hardly ever watch TV). I really think this is very important for how autism is being potrayed in the media: neither of them ‘look autistic’, they both wear make up and nice clothes, cope in the public eye and, I suppose, are not obsessed with train time tables. And yet, they’re autistic. I’d like to thank to both of them from here for revealing that. I may later on go on YouTube and watch some videos with them to see how they cope with talking to other people, but I don’t promise that.

I was quite sad when The Boyfriend was here, but didn’t want to tell him anything. I was thinking a lot about the fraud my mum become a victim, and how patronising is the fact that I now have to make any effort at all to get the money back. I was thinking that I don’t deserve it and that it all wasn’t meant to be like that at all. Selling the land my mum owned was supposed to bring us joy, not trouble. It all was meant to be different.

Like with Home Group, I suppose, which was meant to be a stepping stone to a career for me and instead was a stepping stone to madness. Thank god, I’m not mad now. And also not most of the time (I wouldn’t book that flight to Bangkok, I promise!).

I was wondering if I should have a go at making my own Christmas pudding, you know, made of carrots, parsnips, beetroots and zucchini but The Boyfriend said it would need time to mature, but how is this a problem? We could eat it for Easter instead. I absolutely love Christmas pudding and could easily eat it 5 times a week, although, I suppose, if I use the ingredients I mentioned, instead of traditional ones, it may not be as exciting.

I was also wondering lately how come me, with first class bachelor degree in computer science and some other courses in maths and physics, work as a cleaner, even if that’s only temporary. I don’t suppose autism can be directly blamed for it, although I do admit, I suck at interviews, but the fact that I’m terrible with computers, don’t understand maths at all and absolutely hate physics is probably what should be to blame. So how come I got as far as successfully studying those subjects at the university? I guess, that’s where autism was involved: I’m very good at copying what I see and maths, IT and physics are so easy to approach this way! Other people behaviour can also be copied but this is a bit more complicated and there’s so many exceptions!

But the fact that I can repeat even the most complicated sequence of steps to get to the correct solution, doesn’t mean that I know why the steps were there to begin with (although I can see if something fits or if it doesn’t), and then when it comes to apply what I learned this way to a new problem, I can’t do it. I can only do something that is similar to what I’ve already seen. If there was a job somewhere that woud pay for solvig the same type of problems over and over, I would be great at it, but don’t expect me to deal with things that are new!

This is not to mention that every autistic person who seems to be great at maths is going to experience this problem, and I really do hope most of them would cope with new problems too, but I think it is important for parents and educators alike to understand that if we sometimes say we feel we’re not good at something, this may in fact be true, even though what they see suggests the opposite.

As usual my today post is a bit about everything. When I just started blogging I was trying to be organised and only post about one thing at the time, but then it felt like I was trying to become an institution, while I’m most certainly a person, even if an autistic one. And as a person I have a mind that wanders. So now, I’m just about to have a cup of tea. 99p per 50 teabags assam tea from Lidl. When I was working full time I used to get Twinings tea, which cost a bit more. Maybe not as much considering I’d only have a couple of cups a day, but when one doesn’t have permanent, full time job, watching every purchase suddenly becomes important.

Fingers crossed my DBS comes back this coming week. I’m really bored of not having ‘a proper job’ and I guess I’m ready for another challenge.

I do think sometimes though I am really glad I’ve been sacked. I’d never move on otherwise and this blog wouldn’t exist. Not that I have many readers, at least for now…

Overworked and lonely

I woke up after barely 3h of sleep and can’t fall back asleep again. That means I overworked myself yesterday, that’s what always happens after I’ve been working too hard. I’m wondering if I should actually even go for another shift as it will be very difficult after yesterday and not having enough sleep.

I found the beds the most difficult to do, duvets never wanted to settle nicely in duvet covers and the more beds I did the worse it got. That’s dyspraxia for you.

Yesterday evening, after I came home, I started feeling extremely lonely and I don’t understand where the feeling is coming from. Yes, I spent the day on my own but I spend majority of my days on my own and I never feel like that. Possibly it’s due to the fact that I start understanding that the time is passing by and I’ll never have family of my own. Possibly its because The Boyfriend suddenly developed some health problems, that I’d rather not reveal here to protect his privacy. It’s nothing extremely serious and he continues to work, just taking regular breaks but it may have an impact on him for several months and I suddenly think how fragile we all are.

Also I received a letter from mum’s bank, the response for yet another complaint that I sent when I was in Poland. I don’t want to know what’s in it. It probably won’t be what I want to read. Yet again I feel how insignificant I am: it’s so easy to ignore my concerns.

Too late to take a sleeping tablet. I don’t know how I’m going to cope at work.

Being off work – a little sum up

From what I remember, the last time I was actually at work was around the end of April, so it’s approximately 6 months now. Therefore I’d like to sum up this time here, not from the perspective of someone who can’t find a job (I did only start looking recently and received some job offers immediately) or someone who can’t pay the bills or put food on the table (most of my bills are paid by direct debit so that’s not an effort at all and I usually eat on the sofa) but from the perspective of an autistic person who managed to take time off and reflect on herself.

Initially, after I was suspended, but still employed, I took a bit of time to just rest. The year before I was suspended was a difficult one: in December 2019 I was sectioned while having a psychotic episode (a second one) and I spent a month in the hospital and then a few more weeks at home, first off sick, then working part time as a phased return. At the beginning of March 2020 I went to Poland to spend time with my family and that’s when Polish government introduced lockdown. It was all very stressful, while it was meant as a holiday before going back to work full time.

I managed to come back to the UK on one of the rescue flights a few days before I was initially planning to as staying there I was worried too much. I remember than when I was packing I got obsessed with taking all my belongings with me, like some acrylic paint that I was using to do art after recovering from my first psychosis, pijamas that was always there waiting for me to come over, some books I used to read in secondary school or even some not very elegant underwear. I ended up going back with two suitcases, not just one. I remember having that thought while packing that I’d never go back there… and that kind of turned out to be true. I went back there but things were never the same any more.

I came back to the UK, went to work, did like two or 3 shifts and my dad suddenly died. And I couldn’t go to the funeral.

I didn’t have good relationship with my dad at all but I was always telling myself that it’s due to his mental health problems and I really needed to see him that last time to say that I understand and forgive him and love him anyway and that was taken away from me, the same like his entire life.

In the meantime the UK introduced lockdown and all the services that I was intending to use to feel better, that finally were being available to me due to having history of two psychotic episodes (they were not available when I was just autistic) were starting to operate online instead of face to face and it didn’t agree with me. I also was unable to see The Boyfriend for several weeks.

In May I found out mum was taken to the hospital and from there to the care home, without asking her if that’s what she wanted or me what I thought about that. The care home staff was terrible and she was complaining of suicidal thoughts so when government in Poland suspended quarantine for people coming from abroad I went back and took mum out. I then quickly found out that there’s loads of money missing from her bank account. That was in the middle of August 2020.

Then mum and me decided she can’t stay in Poland so she’d come with me. My brother was drinking more severely than before and mum would be at risk of being hurt if she stayed there.

So at the beginning of September mum came with me and almost immediately wanted to go back. She would come into my bedroom on loads of mornings when I was meant to go to work to talk about how she’s worried about my brother and then I had to really rush in order not to be late. While my brother would call us and scream at her. Ten minutes after the phone call finished she’d say that she had a feeling that he changed. She was trying to control my spending and comment on clothes I was wearing and how I arranged my flat.

At the same time her bank completely ignored our complaints. At some point they actually changed the subject of complaint from ‘missing money’ into ‘poor customer service’. It wasn’t until I got the police involved that we finally felt someone is listening. Still, things were taking loads of time and we were asked to go there to give witness statement and, pandemic aside, when I was seeing how bank ignored us and our evidence for months, I started thinking that they’re all part of organised crime and when we go there, they’ll find us, kidnap and kill us to keep us quiet forever. It was reminding me the situation with Home Group – that was exactly subject of my delusions during my first psychotic episode (although it’s quite obvious that Home Group would like to keep me quiet, isn’t that right Mr Henderson?) and I started getting somehow paranoid.

Around the same time pharmacy (or maybe it was meds prescription service?) messed up my meds two months in a row so I’d decide to get off them as it was too stressful worrying if I’m going to get them on time…

I was off sick for three weeks around the time, certainly not enough, but then I had mum around the house moaning the entire time (well, I can’t really blame her for being stressed, it’s just that I didn’t know how to deal with that any more) so I just ended up going back to work. And that’s what happened… I ended up suspended and then fired. I’d never expected that’s what would happen to me, but it did.

So, first of all, I took some time to just do nothing and recuperate. Then, I wrote My Story. I’m glad I was off work when I did it as it needed a lot of focus to decide what details need to go into it, what needs to be left out. It took me two weeks to write it. If I was working at the same time I’d need probably like 6 months for that as my thinking process would be affected if I wouldn’t be able to fully focus on it.

Then I had this idea to start a website. At first it was meant to be very informative one and my personal experiences were meant to be left out. I wanted the website to be the a start of my own business – one where I’d be giving speeches to companies about my experience of employment with Home Group (at the time I still called them The Company) and it was meant to draw attention to workplace discrimination in relation to autism.

If you only just started reading now, I was employed by Home Group, harrased by a colleague, asked GP for autism diagnosis referral (that I earlier thought won’t be needed), got prioritised by the diagnostic centre due to my work situation but the diagnosis didn’t stop the harassment so I handed in my notice and took Home Group to employment tribunal where they claimed my diagnosis was private and they organised it through AXA occupational health! Seriously! That’s how bad workplace harassment can be if you’re on the spectrum.

So, as I was thinking, that was very important story for people to hear but knew that Home Group would likely try to stop me if I try to talk about it just like that so I was spending loads of time planning what to do about that. I was even trying to arrange for a legal advice but at the end decided not to proceed with it. Legal advice felt like I was going for a fight and that wasn’t my intention at all. My intention was to raise awareness.

So anyway, as I was thinking how to secure my right to talking openly about what happened to me in Home Group I realised I missed an important factor: if I approach businesses with my story, they may possibly want to pay for me to talk to their staff, at least initially, and I may be able to get my business going for a while but the end result won’t be what I was aiming for, it won’t be better understanding and inclusion for an autistic staff.

The end result will be that people in charge get that message accross: if you have an autistic employee taking you to employment tribunal you’d better check all the paper work five times!

That wasn’t what I was aiming for. What I was aiming for was understanding and inclusion and therefore possibly from this place in this post I should express that I’m ready to forgive (well, at least I’m trying) and that Mr Henderson can contact me through my psychiatric nurse (he was given her contact details once) if he wants to apologise.

However, I need to make it clear here, this is not something I can keep quiet about. As I already stated million times my aim is to raise the awareness. Being quiet won’t achieve that.

How does dementia start?

I didn’t sleep very long again but I should be ok. I’m thinking now that I’m glad I came and even that I lost my ID and had to stay longer. Due to that I could have seen how my mum’s mental state deteriorated, if I didn’t see that I would not believe she has dementia. Now I know that is unfortunately true.

I’m wondering now if some of her unusual reactions a few years back were possibly early warnings signs that have been missed. I’m thinking here especially about this situation when she had a ‘feeling’ how to get to Moulin Rouge when we were in Paris, which was approximately 10 years ago. Not that anything could have been done at the time as there are no treatments that prevent dementia from progressing.

There’s not enough conversation about aging in the public domain, which is sad. How can I prepare for those situations if nothing is ever being said? It feels like me and my problems have to stay underground.

The Boyfriend told me yesterday he’s proud of me as I achieved a lot. Well, I suppose he’s right, even though I felt low and anxious a lot and needed plenty of rest, the most important things have been achieved: mum is in a better care home and I stopped obsessing about never getting my inheritance. I suppose she needs that money now much more than me to have quality of life. I just need to find a job and I’ll be ok.

I guess I can consider my trip to be mildly successful then: I managed the above without developing another psychotic episode and I still have 9 emergency olanzapine tablets (I think I initially brought 12 with me) but zopiclone is all gone (I think I had 8 to begin with). So that means I can cope with stressful situations. Obviously life has tendency to be stressful at times and I can’t avoid dealing with situations because I’m scared I’ll get psychosis. Unresolved issues will also cause stress at the end.

Why I see this trip as only midly successful then? Because my brother still drinks and neglects himself. Let’s be honest, I say I have no hope for him but then when he doesn’t change I feel disappointed and hurt so that means the hope must have been there, even if I was not aware of it.

It would also be nice if mum’s bank refunded her the money that was stolen, although I realistically know that would take much longer than a few weeks.

I also paid all the bills that my mum asked. Only so that my brother could live in the house undisturbed. He’ll pay after new year, she says.

My train to Kraków leaves at 11.45 but getting to the station is not going to be straightforward as it’s Saturday so I need to leave around 10.15, which is just over 3h. I love Kraków but in this particular situation I’m not looking forward to go there. I’d still prefer to stay here and make sure mum has everything she needs. It’s so difficult, I’m telling you, especially when I know that my brother is drinking and cannot be trusted with absolutely anything.

Isolation of victim

A few weeks ago I posted to Tomaszów Facebook group asking if there is anyone there who’s money also got stolen by Mrs J but I didn’t get a sensible response. A man reached out claiming he can help me get the money back and he said that ‘his neighbour is a lawyer’. I decided to opt out for now.

I don’t suppose the way I think about the fraud is very helpful and logical, even though I’m a logical person most of the time. Well, I suppose I’m logical when I’m not on my autistic instinct, when I possibly see somebody else struggle, but not when I struggle myself.

I suppose, as an autistic, I see my parents land as a symbol of prosperity, as mum was always saying that one day it will be mine. As an autistic I’m focused on symbols because this is what I can easily understand. That’s why the fraud feels like if my prosperity has been taken away from me. I know it’s not true and as long as I get a job I’ll be ok, but I find it difficult to just move on.

Let me clarify that here: it’s not excessive amout of money, with the salary I could get for one of lower paying jobs that I used to do in the UK it wouldn’t even be enough to put a deposit for a house.

So it’s not a life changing sum but I can’t change my thinking. Unless… unless I imagine that the part that has been stolen has gone to my brother and I just never do anything about it. No more contact with the bank, no more contact with the police, just total silence.

I also know that, no matter how much money we will get back, it will always feel wrong, like it won’t be the same money that has been stolen.

I’m not very logical, am I?

I’d really like to speak with other victims and hear how they feel and think. The staff in a bank have themselves to plan all the strategies while I’m totally alienated and alone. It feels bad.

Perhaps, perhaps…

I visited mum today, at 11am, as usual, as it’s easy to arrange and remember that I need to take a bus which is exactly at 10.30. She didn’t seem very alert and at some point insisted on me taking her laundry home because ‘no one will do it here’, she also told me she can move in back to her family home as soon as she walks again. Perhaps, I thought, this is a sign of something I didn’t want to admit: perhaps she has dementia.

Later on I went to the police station and got anxiety attack while waiting to speak with concierge. I thought, I’d never get one again. Perhaps it’s another example of a naive thinking.

How do I look when I have anxiety attack? Pretty much normal but my breathing gets very shallow, I feel very worried and uncomfortable in general. I was still able to speak with the policeman though. He did ask if something happened but I am not sure if he meant my breathing or just general, why I came when I didn’t have an appointment.

Mum’s bank advertises heavily in media which is, I suppose, their way of getting everyone to be quiet about how they’re dealing with the issue. We’ll never get this money back, I think.

I’m back in the hostel now and trying to get over the rest of my anxiety. I hope I won’t need to go on meds when I’m back in the UK although looking for work may be stressful.

It’s a really hot day today.

The Innocent Guys

I did mention in my previous post that since I started blogging about my emotions I started seeing flashback of text in my head occasionally and it’s something that relates to my life. ‘The Innocent Guys’ is what I saw just a few minutes ago.

I suppose it could be a good name for vegan burger restaurant but that would not be anything to do with my life, so possibly it’s to do with my mum’s bank. I saw an article online earlier on about the fraud where they claimed they ‘always inform the police, even if there’s just a fraction of doubt’. Only not in my mum’s case, where it was me who informed the police (that’s also in the article, although my name is not given).

The Innocent Guys would be good name for them then. I now really worry that we’re not going to get the rest of the money back and we’ll just have to get on with it. We can obviously take them to court, which the policeman suggested may be needed but that may take a while.

I had a little nap and I feel a bit better than I was for a couple of last days, I also had a nice lunch in an eatery where me and my mum used to eat if we went shopping and didn’t manage to get home before lunch time. Main meal and a drink it’s only 13PLN there, which is approximately 2.5 pounds, a large soup is 5PLN. I can’t make myself to eat anywhere else, it feels to me like going for lunch to that place is like paying tribute to my mum, she may never be able to eat there again.


I downloaded a new game yesterday, one where you have to arrange various shape blocks in a certain way, and when you do, they disappear and you get points. I thought it would be a good way to relax and I spent ages playing yesterday evening and today in the morning, straight after I woke up at 4am.

I thought it would help me deal with frustration, but it didn’t, it only prevented me from thinking about it for as long as I played. The thing is also, I’m not very good at those type of games. I remember there was a similar one very popular with students where I used to live in the university dorm and I believe I was the worst at it. Two of my roommates (at different times, I didn’t live with both of them at once), could play it indefinitely and one used to ask me to finish it when she got bored and I’d manage to do that in like 3 minutes.

I bet it has something to do with me being autistic. That housemate used to say that I need to think about arranging blocks in more than one area at once, but I was sure, that was what I used to do! Yet, it was not good enough.

I used to start one game after another in hope to finally work it out but I never managed. So the game was starting to frustrate me at the end.

This time, I told myself, I need to delete it.

At least the letter to the bank is ready for printing. Hopefully, after I deliver it to the branch, I won’t be thinking about it any more for a little while.

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