Posted on January 11, 2020
So, for those of you who don’t know, DSA stands for Disabled Student Allowance, something you can apply for as a disabled student to help you get support during your university experience. They can help you with technical support, in uni support like 1-to-1 sessions, and so on. You apply for an assessment and then, if you get one, you talk with the assessor about the support you need, discuss what DSA can provide you with, and then they make a recommendation.
I had an assessment during my undergrad degree and they were really good. They provided me with a load of useful tech, including a macbook, a handheld recorder, and several pieces of software to make doing my work easier. I was (and still am) really grateful, even though the laptop’s memory isn’t actually big enough to run all of the software. It was still a laptop and a much lighter one than the one I had, which made commuting a lot easier – I was coming home with bruises from the bag I was carrying because it was so heavy.
The at uni support was less helpful. The first person I saw acted like a therapist (which I’m not sure she was supposed to be doing) and I already had a therapist so that wasn’t helpful. I spent the hour answering questions about my mental health and my Autism that I’ve answered a hundred times before. So I didn’t continue with that. And the second person upset me so much that I left before the session finished.
So it was a mixed experience but I’m endlessly grateful for the laptop because the old one was causing me serious problems.
I had to redo the application process for my Masters as what they offer is different and today I finally had my assessment – between the disability coordinator being very unhelpful (an understatement) and the semester being incredibly stressful, we’d just kept postponing it. It was too much to manage. But recently we finally managed it and it was a complete nightmare.
The guy was nice and we discussed everything – the problems with the disability coordinator, my first semester, my general experience of life, what would make university easier – but when it came to talking about what support was possible, it was very disappointing and upsetting.
This is despite the fact that I need a light laptop, due to the chronic fatigue and pain I struggle with and an Apple one to run the software I need for the course. But apparently this is because these are ‘course specific’ needs rather than disability needs, yet I – a disabled student – can’t do my course without them.
This is because, apparently, I choose to live at home rather than living in London like most students studying in London despite the fact that I am unable to live alone and look after myself because of my disabilities. Apparently, this would give me an advantage above other students, which is bullshit because in reality, it would simply put me on a level playing field because I am disadvantaged by my disability. And the amount of effort that would go in to justifying each cab trip to Student Finance when Mum usually takes me (because they won’t simply give you an allowance for it) would take more effort and energy than I have to spare on something used so rarely.
And uni support wise:
So I will continue to have no specialist support at uni.
There was a moment during the discussion that I just realised that they weren’t going to help me and that I was going to be left unsupported, abandoned, again. And I just started crying. They’re not going to provide me with any support because my needs don’t fit their guidelines, because my disability doesn’t fit with their idea of disability. The assessor said it happens to a lot of people like me. I’m not sure why he told me this. Is it supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn’t.
We’d run out of things to discuss so the assessor left the room to give us a few minutes to talk and I just started sobbing. I just feel so unsupported. I feel so let down. These are people who are supposed to help me. Their very job is to help me and they are… letting me down. There was nothing to talk about and I was moments away from a meltdown so Mum packed me up and we headed for the door.
I was passing through the door when I saw this:
What a joke. What a fucking joke. I’d walked in there calm and was walking out feeling… I don’t even know how to explain it. Just devastated all over again, I guess. I’m so tired. I’m so tired of working so hard to prove to everyone that I need help only to be ignored time and time again. I’m tired of being dismissed and invalidated because I don’t fit someone else’s arbitrary concept of something they have no real idea of but that I live with and suffer with every day. I’m tired of nobody thinking that researching or training in the understanding of Autism is important. I’m so tired. Of all of this.
Mum pointed out to the assessor how ironic the flyer was. I think offensive or appalling are more appropriate given the previous hour and a half but whatever. I cried all the way home and for a long time afterwards. I don’t know what to do now.
Obviously this is just one person’s experience. I’m not sharing this because I want people to avoid applying for DSA. It helped me during my BA. But I just don’t want anyone going into it without knowing how hard, how upsetting, how traumatic it can be. Getting benefits of any kind can be a real struggle and this one is certainly no different.
Category: anxiety, autism, depression, event, meltdowns, mental health, university Tagged: asd, autism, autism spectrum disorder, benefits, chronic fatigue, chronic fatigue syndrome, disability support, disabled, disabled student, disabled student allowance, dsa, dsa assessment, masters, masters degree, student, university, university support
Posted on January 1, 2020
In January, I was inspired to try the 19 for 2019 challenge, setting myself nineteen goals to achieve by the end of the year. They didn’t have to be massive goals; they could be one off things to simply try. I was inspired so I came up with nineteen things and gave it a go. Unfortunately, I wasn’t aware of what a hell of a year I was about to experience.
So it’s a pretty mixed bag and considering the year I had, I’m surprised I managed any of them at all. I’ve struggled throughout the year, especially recently, with how little I’m achieving and the frustration and anger and guilt that comes with that, that comes with living with mental health problems and a developmental disability. I’m trying to focus on the fact that, where I could, I tried. I tried to do as many of these things as possible.
Overall, an interesting challenge but I think I’ll try something different for 2020. I haven’t found the right kind of goal system yet so I’m just gonna have to keep looking and keep trying.
Category: about me, anxiety, autism, book, depression, emotions, food, medication, mental health, music, trichotillomania, university, writing Tagged: 19 for 2019, 19 for 2019 review, 2019, 2020, alcohol, anxiety, asd, autism, autism spectrum disorder, blood donation, bone marrow register, book, books, chronic fatigue, chronic fatigue clinic, chronic fatigue syndrome, coffee, depression, fatigue, fawm, february album writing month, goals, guitar, hair pulling, invisible braces, mental health, mental illness, meteor, meteor shower, napowrimo, national poetry writing month, new year, new years resolutions, photo album, photo albums, piano, poetry, reading, resolutions, rock climbing, songwriting, swimming, tattoo, tea, trich, trichotillomania
Posted on June 15, 2019
Several months ago, I had some blood tests done and they revealed that I was incredibly low in iron. Since I’ve had some pretty unpleasant experiences with supplements, my doctor recommended an infusion and set it up straight away at the local hospital. I was really impressed by the efficiency of it all: the speed at which the problem was identified and the treatment arranged. That was the last we saw of that.
The actual hospital visit for the infusion took six hours. All was going smoothly: they’d taken my blood just to double check the iron levels but then we saw no sign of the doctor for over an hour. When someone eventually appeared, they told us that somehow they’d managed to test for everything but iron and were having to run the tests again. It took so long that I fell asleep in the chair.
Hours later, they finally had the infusion in. It was cold and made me feel kind of sick. It was a bit like when you get a general anaesthetic, if you’ve ever had one of those. But it was okay. It only lasted about fifteen minutes and then I had to stay for half an hour to make sure there weren’t any negative interactions. But then it was all over and I could go home. I thought I’d keep notes on how I reacted in case it would be useful to anyone else.
I slept very late everyday (sometimes into the afternoon when I’m usually up around eight) and still struggled to get up. Despite all the sleep, I could still nap in the day and would start dozing off around ten. I had absolutely no energy. I tried to continue my routine of getting up early to swim but I could barely drag myself downstairs (or even out of bed); I couldn’t stand up long enough to shower and had to wash my hair in the bath, which I absolutely hate doing. I was very shaky and felt just generally unwell.
At the beginning of the week, I also reduced two of my medications, Clomipramine and Flupentixol, as I’d previously planned with my Psychiatrist. The infusion came about so quickly that the plans collided with no time to adjust. I also went down with a migraine during the week so it’s hard to tell what caused what and how each thing affects the others.
Slowly, I started to wake up at my normal time again but I was still very tired and sleepy. Doing anything was a struggle but by the end of the week, I started to feel a bit better and a bit more like myself pre-infusion. I also started to feel like myself pre-Flupentixol: I had my first shower standing up in weeks and I walked around London without feeling like I was going to faint. It felt a bit like a fog was lifting.
The week began with my first shower standing up and I was positively giddy about it. I had to lie down afterwards but it was amazing to be able to do something again that had been taken away. I was still physically exhausted but I no longer felt like I was going to faint if I stood up for too long.
Mentally and emotionally, I felt like I was declining. I felt depressed and restless; I didn’t know what to do with myself.
I did spend the second half of the week sick, feeling nauseous with a cold and sore throat. I don’t know whether that’s related to the infusion or the changing medications or whether it was a coincidence. Either way, I spent several days in bed feeling miserable.
At the beginning of the fourth week, I reduced the Clomipramine again. I wish all of these things could’ve happened separately from each other so the effects could be clearly identified by unfortunately, that just wasn’t in the cards this time. The reduction of the Clomipramine, an antidepressant, no doubt had a real impact on my mood. I felt overwhelmed by feelings of depression and hopelessness and I just didn’t know what to do with myself. I couldn’t settle or concentrate so it was hard to distract myself from these feelings. My anxiety also increased, which was an added struggle.
Energy wise, I felt back to my ‘normal’ levels of tiredness: I couldn’t – can’t – stand or walk for very long, big events and big emotions require several days of recovery, I need a lot of sleep. But I’m a lot better. I’m swimming again and going up to London has been easier. So on that front, there has been improvement.
Everything has been fairly consistent since then and eight weeks after the infusion, I went back for a blood test to see if the infusion worked. The results were certainly interesting: by my maths, my iron levels have gone up 4000%. So, for the moment at least, it seems to have worked. In the medical sense anyway – I’m not seeing as much of an improvement as I would’ve hoped, energy wise. I’d hoped that this might explain the ongoing trouble I have with fatigue but if this is up to normal levels and I’m still struggling as much as I am, then it’s not the answer, or not the whole answer.
It’s not the end of the road. In three months, I’ll be going back for another blood test, this time to find out whether my body is holding onto and processing the iron properly. So that may yield more answers, more information. From there, I’m not sure what happens but it’s not the only route we’re pursuing. There’s got to be an answer and I’m not giving up yet.
Hi! I’m Lauren Alex Hooper. Welcome to my little blog! I write about living with Autism Spectrum Disorder, as well as several mental health issues. I’m a singersongwriter so I’ll probably write a bit about that too.
My first single, ‘Invisible,’ is now available on iTunes and Spotify, with all proceeds going to Young Minds.
My second single, ‘Bad Night,’ is also now available on all platforms and is the first track from my new EP, ‘Honest.’