What’s been going on

Well, it’s been a minute, hasn’t it? I’ve been wanting to write for months now, but I haven’t managed to. There is a lot going on, but it’s mainly been hard to write because I’ve been experiencing autistic burnout. Which for me amounts to bone-deep fatigue, loss of executive functioning, difficulty with communication (both written and verbal), loss of certain skills, increased anxiety, and a need to rest. And probably more stuff I’m not even aware of.

At the same time, my work responsibilities ramped up when the former Dean of MIU’s School of International Studies and Communication (SISC) left to pursue an advanced degree in South Korea in December, leaving me as the dean. So since early January, I’ve been in charge of not just the Media and Communication (MC) department, but also the International Relations (IR) department and the Master’s in Public Administration Program (MPA). It’s entailed not just a huge learning curve, but also a heavy demand for decision-making, which is one of the executive functioning skills I have really been struggling with. And now my decisions affect other people’s lives as well, which makes them much more difficult.

I also ended up teaching three courses instead of the two I was insisting on if I were going to serve as dean. We had two new full-time IR hires in the works for spring semester, but we lost one at the last minute when she decided to take a job elsewhere, so we had to reshuffle faculty, and one of the MC faculty with a background in economics and development took one of the IR courses, leaving me to pick up the Media Literacy course, which I’ve taught before, at least, but still.

So now I find my attention drawn in many directions simultaneously, which has repercussions for an autistic person with ADHD. I have a hard time shifting attention under the best of circumstances, but with my burnout, it leaves me completely shattered. Last semester, I was exhausted by about 3 pm, but this semester I’m collapsing by lunchtime, and on the weekends. We’re only in the second week of the semester, and I don’t know how I will make it through 14 more weeks, plus an extra week until graduation. I keep telling myself I’ll make it because I have to, but that doesn’t feel very plausible, honestly.

And that’s just me. Devin is struggling through the second year of the International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme, which is utterly absurd. On the surface, they are doing great. They are working hard, getting their work done and turned in on time or early. They also submitted eight college applications, one in late November for early action, and the others in late December to mid-February. In December we took a two-week trip to New Zealand, which was absolutely wonderful but not nearly long enough, and got home to the happy news that Devin was not only admitted to their first choice, Hampshire College in Massachusetts, but also received their top academic scholarship, which was a real surprise. We were so happy we took the rest of the day off and baked a cake. But they also have had interviews with people from Bennington and Holyoke, and those and other schools remain of interest, so we’re just waiting to find out where Devin’s admitted and what the offers are.

At school, all that remains for Devin now is to submit one more written assignment (their process portfolio for art), put together their art exhibition, study for and take mock exams at the end of the month, and then study for and take their DP final exams, which start in April. Of the thirteen weeks of school remaining for them (DP seniors have no school after their exams end in mid-May), nearly 5 weeks will be spent taking exams. Personally, I feel like the senior year should be discounted, because they stop having classes after April 18 (exams start April 25, and they get a week to study). But it costs as much as the 11^th grade.

So, on the surface Devin is doing great, but I get to see the aftermath at home. This is probably true of all people with chronic illness who put on a “brave face” to go out in the world when they are able, but then face the consequences afterwards. We are often both in a state of collapse once we get home, but Devin has the chronic pain and assorted other symptoms on top of it. I admire their fortitude, but I also worry. The soy-free-gluten-free-dairy-free diet we’ve been on since August (well, gluten free since August 2022) has helped a bit with fatigue and brain fog, but sometimes they feel like the pain is getting worse. It will be good to be back in the US and have potentially have access to more healthcare options, and possibly some medical treatments for what is going on. Not to mention better food options.

This winter has also been harder than the past two. It hasn’t necessarily been colder, though there seems to be more humidity, which makes it feel colder. There has been quite a bit more snow and lots of black ice on the streets, which makes walking to the bus stop in the morning dark a lot more exciting. I have only gone down twice so far. I was excited when it got warm enough for the black ice to melt a couple of weeks back, but we’ve just had more snow and now it’s going down well below zero Fahrenheit for the next few days, so I suspect things will get slippery again.

Days are getting longer, at least. In another month I’ll be walking to the bus stop right around dawn (now it’s still pitch-black at 6:30), and the sun is now setting after 6 pm. By the end of March, the sun will be rising when I leave for work. The return of light in the spring is one of the things I most look forward to, especially in the morning. One thing I wish I could have found here was a sun lamp or light box to help with the dark mornings, but I haven’t been able to find one, and now there really is no point because we’ll be leaving soon.

We’re both sad about counting down the days till our respective graduations (Devin’s on May 29, and MIU’s on May 31). It feels necessary for our mental health to remind ourselves that this is only temporary, that life won’t be this grueling forever. But we also will be leaving Mongolia sometime during the summer. Since August, we’ve both been struck by moments of “This is the last time I’ll ever…” I’ve been thinking about it a lot in relation to both work events and experiencing life in Ulaanbaatar. In many ways, I’d be happy to continue living here, if I could just teach my classes and otherwise do my own thing. But MIU has created a situation that doesn’t allow me to reduce my workload, which is something I desperately need to do to deal with my burnout, so I don’t see any alternative right now but to leave. I’ll be taking a year (at least) off from work entirely to recover, and then I might go back to teaching or I might not. Right now, the thought of it makes me panic.

Devin is graduating from high school and returning to the US for a gap year before college, so I’m planning to go with them and help them get some medical care. They are looking forward to their own recovery, doing more art, working on a web comic they started but haven’t been able to work on much because of school, and possibly teaching art. We’d both like to try medication for our ADHD, if it’s possible to get. That would likely help both of us a lot.

It’s hard to imagine we won’t be living here anymore after July. There are things about our lives here that we definitely love. Our apartment, aspects of our schools, Ulaanbaatar itself. Living in Mongolia has deeply affected both of us, and we will miss it. I may return after a year, if I can negotiate suitable working conditions with MIU. But I think I want to live somewhere warmer and closer to water. Right now I’m not planning anything, because a lot depends on how next year goes, and how our dogs are (I will have custody, since Devin will be living in a dorm). I just need to rest before I can even think of what will come next.

In the meanwhile, I’d like to say I’ll post here more often before we go. But I can’t promise to. It’s hard to express the depth of my fatigue. Most people don’t believe me, or they think a weekend’s “rest” is sufficient. But it just isn’t anymore. I’m as tired on Monday morning as I am on Friday evening. Even the simple aspects of daily life, like food preparation, washing dishes, taking care of the dogs, and doing the laundry seem completely overwhelming. So I guess I’ll write more when I can. Because there’s a lot to write about, when I have the energy.