My Journey Through Trauma, PTSD While Living With FASD

I recently got to experience what it is like to attend the 9th International Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD) Conference in Seattle, Washington, USA. A lot of people are fixated on the Space Needle, Pike Place Market, the monorail, or even their passion for Starbucks coffee. But, do you know what I was fixated on? The amount of poverty and homeless in that city, it was very heartbreaking to see in person. I have always known Seattle as a rich and wealthy city as I have always heard about it that way on social media or even television. When you see information about Seattle it is about the bright lights, the tourist attractions, and fancy restaurants but you never see the poor people portrayed. You would think in a city like that they would have more support or resources for these situations.  But if you take a look at FASD and the available help and resources there is very few if any depending on what you need.  There are often if not minimal to no resources available and it is r

Music as a tool to my response from trauma and FASD seems an odd title as I have written how music helps me so much to regulate and frees my mind to be able to accomplish more important things in my life, but read on and you will understand. Music has always been important to me since I was very young and in my birth home. Yet it was in the birth home that my love of music started. I had an old little black radio with chrome speakers, and had a antennae that had to pointed just right to hear anything, but static.  I used to listen to that little radio to  drown out the noise of what ever horrible things were going on. That could be fights, drug deals gone wrong, my birth mom being beaten up, my little brother being hurt or crying he was so hungry and lonely locked away in a darkened room and ignored. There were so many things I just did not want to hear and my little radio and the music it played was my escape.  This love of music carried on all through my birth home, my placements in

 I have not written in so long again, life has not been kind and I have been trying to look after myself. I have so much started for my blog, and just as much not finished. I try to write and some how I feel enormous shame, that I am such a mess and I can not think to write. I was to write how grade 11 ended as things were not going too well and my school team was struggling so much to support me with so little understanding of FASD and what that support would be like to give me real help any of us with FASD deserve. I can't say they did not try, but they really do not understand FASD or coregulation and then things really started to fall apart after I was raped. No one could help me including myself, being violated  in that way is so personal and leaves you with feelings I am still trying to come to terms with. I ended up putting myself into a program away from school where I could get a quieter environment, away from all the questions about what had happened to me.  Yet tonight a

Have you ever been in a mixed-emotion mood or don't know what to do with the thoughts that are drowning your head that are unipositive and annoying? Well for me I do, I listen to music, now as I said in previous blog posts, not everything that works for me works for you, yet over time I have found this really helps me.  I use music with different genres to express my emotions and moods to myself, especially listening carefully to the lyrics to find the story behind the song. Memorizing and reading lyrics is so soothing and calming for me.  Like I pull up a song from about 6 or even 7 years ago and  I'll remember it, word for word. Some songs I find can be triggering when I listen to them because it has some relatable message that is affecting my life right now or is relevant to my past. Some lyrics really make me think and uncover emotions I do not always understand and  I'll just sit there and cry as I try to figure things out. I am not saying go make yourself cry, but the

 So as Youth Accessibility Leader I get to hear about things, seminars, conferences, meetings, funding for projects all kinds of things. One of those things was with the Youth Policy and Partnerships Unit of the Public Health Agency of Canada, Government of Canada who helped me to promote FASD and mental health awareness in school. It sounded really exciting at the time as I am convinced a lot of the mental health issues those of us with FASD have are because we live in a society that does not understand invisible disabilities.  It is strange with a few accommodations those of us with FASD can thrive and do our best but meet up with those people who do not understand and prefer to blame or shame us and life can become really difficult destroying our self worth and confidence. When I first got into this project I was so sure everyone would want to learn and listen as so many say they are interested and want to know what to do to help. Yet by the end of the project my self worth and conf

 My mom oh boy, I have lots to say about this woman whether it's good or bad I have a lot to say. We have our differences, we may not always agree and we may get into screaming matchings that drive dad nuts, leaving him begging for us to stop. Yet it's just our way to show that we love each other and we care in our own FASD way, it took me a long time to figure that out, even if at times it hurts. You know Mom, if I did not take the time to scream at you and ignored you, it would mean I did not care about you. Thank you for always trying to be there for me and letting me have a shoulder to cry on. Putting up with my bullshit, or even coming to get me from school when I had trouble or had a bad day that I could not cope. I am especially sorry for all the stupid questions you would get from all the professionals when Wayne and I had trouble and you would get asked again and again if there were problems at home. Home was the only place safe for Wayne and I and everything wrong had

A bit out of date but these blogs take me a while. Grade 11 started out great, but Christmas is coming soon,  grade 11 just sucks now I just don't know who I am anymore. I have been on psychotropic medication for a while now and my dose just keeps getting increased like this will help me, this was done to me before and it never helped then either but the professionals insist. I just hate myself, I feel so disconnected from everyone, and everything, there seems to be nothing that ties me to this generation, where did the self-reliant country people go. I hate who I am becoming the girl my parents would have never wanted, I'm rude, I'm mouthy, I'm loud, and worst of all I'm disgusting. I know Shelby and I am not that girl anymore, I was a cute kid, quiet and had a bit of attitude which is normal for a girl but I am no longer the girl my parents adopted.  I just don't know what is wrong with me but I have been sitting here in the halls of my school crying for hours