Reliving my (painful) past

I want to preface this post by saying that these are things i’ve experienced and at the time of writing this, I do not have a PTSD diagnosis. I, in no way, want to make those with a proper diagnosis feel less than or devalued in any way.

Often times I find myself in these dizzying spells with negative thoughts running rampant. They flood my mind: terrible, painful memories that I wish would vanish.

Discovering deceased pets, multiple instances of being bullied which included: thumbtacks, sharp side up- They would be left on my chair with an audience that consisted of my entire class, watching and waiting to see if I would notice and sit on it, purposely having dodgeballs thrown at my face, having friends-of-friends find out personal details about me and they would attempt to humiliate and berate me based on it, being excluded from birthday parties, having the whole class turn against me while the teacher was out of the room – that’s just some of the bullying that occurred during my elementary school years. Can’t forget the workplace bullying with all kinds of instances that included customers yelling at me, management making me cry or not believing things I say (I am very honest) and being fired – which was one of the most humiliating things i’ve ever lived through, co-workers being nasty to me for reasons i’ll never know.

I also can’t forget all the things my Father did: the daily verbal abuse, screaming so loud that you could hear him down the block, chasing me to my bedroom and holding the door closed so I couldn’t leave, yelling at me for questioning things he said and having friends witness his emotionally destructive behaviour which was embarrassing and continued to pile the stress on top of me. 

This is just a small portion of the hundreds, maybe thousands of memories that flow through my mind.

Even though I had the support of my Sisters and my Mum, I still felt so alone and depressed. I didn’t think I would survive so I failed to look after myself. I think sadness was one of the first emotions I remember experiencing.

I want these painful memories to subside. Easier said than done. I can’t seem to shake off things that happened as far back as I can remember. 

People often say things like “Forgive and forget”, “don’t dwell on your past”, “move on” and “live in the present”. It’s NOT THAT EASY. Diminishing the valid feelings of those who often have to suffer in silence is not something that sits well with me. It’s hard enough to allow those feelings to come to the surface, let alone feel comfortable enough with anyone to actually allow the words of pain to flow out of ones mouth. It’s a PRIVILEGE to listen to such agony. I don’t think it’s okay to interject comments telling someone to forget, move on and live in the present. It makes things worse.

I have reached out to some people that have caused me pain and forever haunt me in my memories and I was unsuccessful. I also was left feeling as though what happened was my fault. I do my best to cope.

Forgiveness is so much harder than its made out to be and it has stages that are very similar to grief. I would say that one of my biggest faults or personality flaws would be the severity of my anxiety. Many thoughts continue to haunt me, not only during my waking hours but even during my sleep.

I’m talking about those nights where my mind and my heart feel like they are racing in unison.

Trying to fall asleep, I toss and turn. Sometimes, I wake up at 3am and lay there, trying so hard to go back and sleep peacefully when my mind is at war with it’s self. My body becomes warm, clammy and my night sweats are the worst. I try to find something to think about or something to do. If one of my cats happens to be awake I will gravitate towards them; their soft hair, their therapeutic purring – it helps me stay mindful, it’s calming, it puts me at ease.

Every day is a new chapter but my story starts with pain and my book is still being written. There’s still a chance for happiness.


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My Story: Part 1

I was born near the end of the 80s. A time of plenty.

My entrance in to the world was a rocky one. I was born with a couple of birth defects and had surgery shortly after I was born. I had another surgery months (or weeks?) later.

I grew up in an upper class neighbourhood (in Vancouver, BC Canada) in a big pink house that wasn’t much older than me with my family being the very first owners. The houses surrounding us were mostly heritage homes, few of which are still standing today.

I attended a religion-based private/community school from Nursery 3 up until the 6th grade. It was horrible and I spent nearly every day crying. I’d start my day with a sense of dread, spend the middle of the day battling with my own self esteem as those around me diminished it any chance they got. I’d come home and have one of my parents ask me how school was or what I did. It was the last thing I wanted to answer and I would get scolded for being evasive.

I then transferred to a private school and the very same problems followed me there. 6th grade and part of the 7th grade. I wanted to vanish, forever. The kids were just as cruel but they didn’t spend 9 years of their lives growing up with me- not that it made any kind of difference.

I transferred schools again, this time it was a multi-modal program with another very high price tag for me to attend (yes, the last two schools definitely cost notable chunks of change). I had made a couple of friends, but I still felt like I wasn’t supposed to be there. I wasn’t sure where I would ever fit in. This time, it was a couple of teachers that I clashed with. Mr. H – he got mad at me through my ’emo’ years for wearing a spiked bracelet. He told me it was banned and that I was NEVER to wear it again. I kept asking why? What was wrong with it? I didn’t get a solid answer. I was very upset. I went to the office and the receptionists were talking about me right behind my back. I called my Mom and within NO TIME at all she came to the school and confronted the teacher. She asked him, point-blank, if he thought it was some kind of “S&M thing” and he wouldn’t say anything! She then confronted the receptionists and they admitted they were talking about me.

I love my Mom so much, she’s always been my #1 and ALWAYS been there for me. She’s my best friend.

The second teacher, Mr. F was the art teacher. He told me once that all my art looked the same and constantly excluded me from events that were meant for everyone. It was a struggle to KNOW that i was purposely left out.

This is Part 1 of my story. If you’re interested in knowing more, please let me know.

Love,

Margaux

Actually Autistic: Rejection and Defeat

L’Oreal needs to be inclusive

If you are a fully abled individual without any sensory or mobility issues, you may not notice what’s wrong with this picture.

For months and months now i’ve been waiting for a response to what prompted this entire thing in the first place which i’ve described in the video above.

Here’s the entire story.

Summer, 2017. I had just attended my very first Autism meet up and was feeling like I finally fit in with people. I felt good about myself. I was happy. I also had time to kill and thought it was a great opportunity to visit Metropolis at Metrotown in Burnaby BC, it was on my way home and I thought I could get a few things done.

I noticed an Urban Decay store and they were celebrating their birthday in the mall. How exciting, I thought to myself. I love their products, the pigmentation and thought that this was just super cool and I wanted to get in on the action.

My heart sank and the mood quickly changed.

Why?

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This is why. Yes, it may look like your very ordinary wind booth where you have various pieces of paper flying around but only ONE will win you a coveted full size product.

I couldn’t figure out what someone who had sensory issues or mobility issues was to do since they were not presented with that opportunity.

I was sweaty, anxious, visibly upset and mustered up all the courage I had inside of me to march in to the store and ask for a manager and said I wanted to speak to the marketing department, that I was an autistic individual and didn’t think it was inclusive at all. I met this lady, Tania Garrigo-Meza and she did not tell me she wasn’t the manager, she’s actually the “Retail Biz Dev and Education Executive for Urban Decay Cosmetics”. Her response to me was the most disingenuous “oh, i’m sorry, our marketing team just left!”. Ugh. I asked for a pen and paper and she reluctantly gave me it. I wrote down my information, expecting a prompt response.

Did I get one? NOPE.

I then found her on Instagram. I found her with pictures of the staff and yes, I commented in regards to this situation. The assistant manager contacted me. She knew nothing of what happened. I wrote to every single channel I could possibly think of. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Email and LinkedIn.

Want to see the response I got from Line Miserere who’s position is “Information Management at L’oreal Canada”:

September 13th:

Thank you for sending all the communications. In terms of future contests/promotions, nothing has been determined yet but we have certainly learned a great deal from your experience. It would be my pleasure to send you the full-size product at home, unless you prefer something else. Please let me know.   

A course of action? Policy change? Nope. Just excuses, excuses, excuses.

I decided to write the mall too – because I believe there should be strict standards when promotions are run in the walkways of the mall. Their response:

Hi Margaux Thank you for reaching out to us. We are sorry to hear about this unfortunate experience that occurred with one of our tenants events. Please also allow us to apologize for copying you on our initial response. We review customer concerns received on our social media platforms internally, and that first message was meant for our internal group. In regards to this event, It is something that is put on with the Tenant, Urban Decay. They were responsible for all items. Accordingly, please do follow up with them directly in regards to your concerns. Regards, Metropolis at Metrotown

There isn’t a single person who wants to take responsibility for this and wants to come up with a policy for inclusivity moving forward.

Just take a look at the stocks:

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Falling. Sure, it’s climbing back up there–but maybe they’d learn a thing or two, if, OH, I DON’T KNOW- they LISTENED to their (former) customer base?

I just want a policy where they have criteria that ANY promotion has to meet to include EVERYONE from ALL walks of life and ALL abilities.

L’Oreal owns ALL THESE BRANDS and until I get a response or a resolution, i’m not supporting them and i’m not wearing them.

L'Oreal - They'll take your money and ignore your concerns.jpg

 

You know what else is complete irony? They are working with AUTISM SPEAKS which is all kinds of HORRIBLE! MMMM EUGENICS.

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Want to make your voice heard since they’re not hearing me?

SIGN THE PETITION HERE

Twitter:

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Instagram:

Hey Urban Decay_If you want to be inclusive

 

 

Routine Natural Deodorant Review

 

I have tried SO many natural deodorant products and GUESS WHAT! I found one that really works and is totally worth it. Canadian Made and honestly innovative and made with love.  Watch my video for more info!

https://www.routinecream.com

https://www.facebook.com/routinecream/

I received this product from them in exchange for my honest review.

 

A fresh new start

Cups

Part of my mug collection

I got a new job!

I’m also super, super nervous about it. You know when nerves mix with excitement and a sprinkle of anxiety? That’s where I’m at. I actually kind of feel sick about it.

I’m going to be learning the skill and art of the Barista. Here’s to hoping I don’t get overwhelmed. If that does happen, I have to remember to breathe and utilize the support systems I will have in place.

I haven’t worked in four months and I haven’t totally minded it, but obviously it’s not sustainable since I have bills to pay, cats to look after, food to buy and so on and so forth. I’m constantly thinking of what’s the next big thing for me and I’m thankful I started this blog because the feedback, the support and the sense of purpose it’s giving me–well, it totally fills my heart with joy!

My inner dialogue goes a little something like this:

  • Will I remember the recipes?
  • Will I please the customers?
  • Will I handle the pressure?
  • Will I remain calm and focused?
  • Will I be able to handle the lights, smells and sounds?

I’m usually very nervous around food handling – especially if it includes leafy greens which is a big sensory-trigger for me. I know: A Vegetarian who doesn’t like leafy greens? Yeah, that’s right. I don’t do salads. I don’t do Lettuce, Kale or any of those Green, plastic-y foods. Nope, Nope, NOPE!

Fortunately, the company that hired me is exceptionally inclusive in their hiring and they will be able to work with my support lady at the local autism centre to ensure I have all the resources I need to be successful. For me, that’s everything. That’s the key to my success. I want to be viewed as being able to perform the job. I want people to know that those on the spectrum are capable of greatness! We don’t need a cure, we need support.

let go.

Letting go of the past is something I don’t know how to do. There’s so many mistakes, worries and frustrations that come with life and it’s difficult to know how to improve upon ones self.

Having a big episode happen in my life has created an insurmountable pile of stress on me. I can’t stop replaying it in my mind. I’m shocked, taken aback and I didn’t think it could happen.

It did happen. It still happened. It feels like a dream I can’t wake up from. I’ve been having a hard go of life lately. I’ve been suffering from these uncontrollable episodes that completely catch me off guard and I can’t get a grip on reality. It’s just like my body freezes up and I can’t function. I thought I was going about everything perfectly right. I thought I was understood.

I don’t know what’s next. I sure hope it’s better than this. I need answers to my questions, I need to believe I can do better. I need to be well. I seriously have my doubts.