A gripping novel by Sandra Block. Dahlia is a senior at Harvard, successful and pretty. Then, one night at a party, she is brutally attacked. Her memory of the assault is vague, and she is left with a cold rage. Five years later, she is tattooed as a survivor, working as a paralegal, depending on her gay best friend to get her through the pseudo-seizures that PTSD leaves. Then a video of the attack surfaces online; and her rage becomes white hot. With the help of James, the awkward IT guy, Dahlia vows revenge on her attackers.
The author describes depression accurately. She also is spot on in her description of a character with Asperger's Syndrome, and what he does to compensate for his differences. I saw the final twist coming, but I am intuitive and at one time made a steady diet of books such as this in my reading life. I still stayed up way too late to read this well-crafted novel.
Showing posts with label Asperger's. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Asperger's. Show all posts
Thursday, July 12, 2018
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
My Imperfect Day
We haven't started back to school. Mommy did not do HER homework over the Christmas Break (planning for second semester), so second semester has been delayed a week. I did that today. I also tackled laundry; in a family of seven, if you don't do a load or two every day it becomes something nearly insurmountable. It hasn't been a daily thing lately. And as every mother knows, there's meals and dishes and cleaning and putting the toilet paper on the spindles. Somehow, there's finding time for relationships; God, Hubby, each one of your gems. By the time my hubby got home from the office (he usually works from home: I missed him TERRIBLY) I had nothing left to give him. I had mismanaged my time. My day was not perfect.
I recently tried a yeast-elimination diet at the advice of my doctor. Felt amazing for the first time in a long time! An unlooked side-effect? I lost ten pounds. I couldn't believe it was all due to the diet so I began eating as before. I'm in more pain than before and I've gained five pounds back. The diet reduces inflammation and helps some people with fibromyalgia, arthritis, migraines, and other inflammatory conditions. (These are the reasons I am on the diet; it's also good for thrush, recurrent yeast infections and is good for diabetics.) All these pain conditions have led me to a chronic use of ibuprofen: I now have an ulcer. I'm learning to accept my high weight, the hairs on my chin, and the weird bump on my eyelid and I can "offer up" my pain for others, but acceptance is not the end. Change must be involved too. 1 Cor 6 tells me "you are not your own, you were bought at a price." Jill Savage, in her book No More Perfect Moms (you can read the first few chapters here) reminds us that "our bodies belong to God. He asks us to take care of our bodies and treat them like the Holy Spirit's precious home." She then goes on to recall to us that this is a stewardship issue. So I will go back on my diet, now that I know that, yes, all those good results really came from what I chose to eat. (Had I been in the Garden of Eden I would have been right there with Eve, questioning the serpent and curiously examining the forbidden fruit. Probably would have fallen with her, too. Sigh.) I'll try to move a little more; exercise my bulk. Continue to pluck and denude and ask the doc about the bump. My body is not perfect.
Because my body is not perfect I often have to rest. This includes naps if I over-do it. I over-did yesterday. I informed my two oldest children I was going to lay down and they were in charge. For Secunda, who is 14, this simply means be a guide if someone asks for help. For Primo, 16, this means get out the jackboots. Actually, I do him a disservice by making a joke like that. He has Asperger's Syndrome, and likes things just so, at a particular volume. When I am not there to help keep those parameters in place, he gets frustrated; which manifests in short-tempered bossiness that soon devolves into shouting which leaves my youngest (PPD-NOS) running to her room in noisy sobs, slamming the door behind her and leaves the informer (my other son, also on the autism spectrum) in my room. "Mom, you awake?" And a word-for-word account. Meanwhile, my two neuro-typical daughters are trying to smooth things over with their siblings. We extend grace and love and begin again. But the nap was pretty much over. My children are not perfect.
We have a Father whose children are not perfect. But he loves us perfectly. He looks at us through eyes of love and grace. He uses all things to grow us and mold us and shape us into the image of His son. While my day may not have been perfect, it was perfectly used. Thank you, O God of glory and grace.
I recently tried a yeast-elimination diet at the advice of my doctor. Felt amazing for the first time in a long time! An unlooked side-effect? I lost ten pounds. I couldn't believe it was all due to the diet so I began eating as before. I'm in more pain than before and I've gained five pounds back. The diet reduces inflammation and helps some people with fibromyalgia, arthritis, migraines, and other inflammatory conditions. (These are the reasons I am on the diet; it's also good for thrush, recurrent yeast infections and is good for diabetics.) All these pain conditions have led me to a chronic use of ibuprofen: I now have an ulcer. I'm learning to accept my high weight, the hairs on my chin, and the weird bump on my eyelid and I can "offer up" my pain for others, but acceptance is not the end. Change must be involved too. 1 Cor 6 tells me "you are not your own, you were bought at a price." Jill Savage, in her book No More Perfect Moms (you can read the first few chapters here) reminds us that "our bodies belong to God. He asks us to take care of our bodies and treat them like the Holy Spirit's precious home." She then goes on to recall to us that this is a stewardship issue. So I will go back on my diet, now that I know that, yes, all those good results really came from what I chose to eat. (Had I been in the Garden of Eden I would have been right there with Eve, questioning the serpent and curiously examining the forbidden fruit. Probably would have fallen with her, too. Sigh.) I'll try to move a little more; exercise my bulk. Continue to pluck and denude and ask the doc about the bump. My body is not perfect.
Because my body is not perfect I often have to rest. This includes naps if I over-do it. I over-did yesterday. I informed my two oldest children I was going to lay down and they were in charge. For Secunda, who is 14, this simply means be a guide if someone asks for help. For Primo, 16, this means get out the jackboots. Actually, I do him a disservice by making a joke like that. He has Asperger's Syndrome, and likes things just so, at a particular volume. When I am not there to help keep those parameters in place, he gets frustrated; which manifests in short-tempered bossiness that soon devolves into shouting which leaves my youngest (PPD-NOS) running to her room in noisy sobs, slamming the door behind her and leaves the informer (my other son, also on the autism spectrum) in my room. "Mom, you awake?" And a word-for-word account. Meanwhile, my two neuro-typical daughters are trying to smooth things over with their siblings. We extend grace and love and begin again. But the nap was pretty much over. My children are not perfect.
We have a Father whose children are not perfect. But he loves us perfectly. He looks at us through eyes of love and grace. He uses all things to grow us and mold us and shape us into the image of His son. While my day may not have been perfect, it was perfectly used. Thank you, O God of glory and grace.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Asperger's Education
My son Christopher sees a psychiatrist to help him gain social skills because he has Asperger's Syndrome. This same lovely psychiatrist has a social skills group with half a dozen boys. Christopher attended his first group this week.
All of these boys have Asperger's. Boy did I get an education! I heard about the latest video games, the predictions of Nostradamus, the end of the world, the mountains of Nepal, the Napoleonic Wars, and the sacking of Rome; all in the space of about eight minutes while we waited for the Doctor. These were not conversations, really, but rather several different monologues; so it got quite loud because, of course, each boy wanted HIS monologue heard.
Christopher's pet subjects (NASCAR, tornadoes, airplanes, or ships) were not in that list because he sat in a corner with his hands over his ears. When I asked him later how Group went, he simply said, "LOUD!" They made valentines during Group to give to their mothers. Mine had a large red heart in the middle with a NASCAR race along the bottom. I love it!
This child has given me an education in many ways: he is my first child. He came ten weeks early and was painfully tiny. Because he was born early, he was born the same year in which we married and so continues to be a lesson in humility for me. He's unbelievably bright; and teaches me constantly in his narrow fields of interest. But I am most grateful to God for sharing with me the sheer joy and delight of this boy. He is a treasure.
All of these boys have Asperger's. Boy did I get an education! I heard about the latest video games, the predictions of Nostradamus, the end of the world, the mountains of Nepal, the Napoleonic Wars, and the sacking of Rome; all in the space of about eight minutes while we waited for the Doctor. These were not conversations, really, but rather several different monologues; so it got quite loud because, of course, each boy wanted HIS monologue heard.
Christopher's pet subjects (NASCAR, tornadoes, airplanes, or ships) were not in that list because he sat in a corner with his hands over his ears. When I asked him later how Group went, he simply said, "LOUD!" They made valentines during Group to give to their mothers. Mine had a large red heart in the middle with a NASCAR race along the bottom. I love it!
This child has given me an education in many ways: he is my first child. He came ten weeks early and was painfully tiny. Because he was born early, he was born the same year in which we married and so continues to be a lesson in humility for me. He's unbelievably bright; and teaches me constantly in his narrow fields of interest. But I am most grateful to God for sharing with me the sheer joy and delight of this boy. He is a treasure.
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