posted on Jan, 23 2013 @ 04:19 PM
Welcome to the club.
Those of us with Asperger's have always known that we were "different". If we didn't figure it out, our peer group would make sure that we
In a sense, it is a disability. Those who dismiss it, or say that shrinks make the diagnosis just to put the patient on medication, do not really
understand it and are just guessing.
I wasn't diagnosed until my late 40s. There IS NO MEDICATION for this. None is needed. However, if there are concurrent issues (anxiety disorders,
bipolarism, etc), then meds are discussed.
Personally, I was thankful that there was finally a name to give my eccentricities.
It is a hereditary condition, a way of seeing the world and those who are in it, and a way of reacting to things. We are wired in a way that most
people are not. It is only a "disability" in the sense that we have to live in a world in which most of the inhabitants are not like us.
My husband also has it. He went through his whole life not really knowing, and wondering why his marriages all fell apart. We understand each other,
and we live an isolated existence. It's not that we don't like people, it's just that typical social interactions tend to get us into trouble if
we hang out in the world for too long. We'll say or do something that make people scratch their heads and label us as weirdos.
I went through my whole life trying to cover it up, and I did well enough, but close relationships were problematic, as the people I was close to
couldn't understand my strange ways, my uber-sensitivity to things, my need to be alone for long periods to process things in my brain. I have
trouble being dishonest. I have trouble keeping my mouth shut. I have trouble remembering names and faces, and I used to have a terrible time trying
to figure out what to do socially, what to say, how to act, and how to read people.
I'm still clumsy, although I'm more careful in my old age.
Anyway....now that you know what is going on with you, be easy and kind to yourself. If you need to isolate, then there is no shame in that. Indulge
your obsessions with certain subjects (we can become quite expert at what we focus on), but always remember that nobody else cares about it as much as
you do, so beware of chattering on non-stop to others (something my husband still cannot remember....he only has a few subjects he wishes to talk
about, and he will dominate the conversation and bore everybody to tears).
Accept that you are the way you are, and know that, in order to exist in the world, you're going to have to remember to be a better listener than a
talker. You're going to have to control your temper. You're going to have to learn to control the urge to blurt things out. You're going to have
to be a keen observer of human behavior, in order to learn how to react in social situations. It took me until my 40s to learn that, when people ask,
"how are you", they REALLY don't want to know. It's a social greeting. Your stock answer needs to be, "I'm fine, thanks, how are you?"
I have learned to be a good actress, say the lines, go through the motions, etc. It's not being phony, it is functioning in a world in which most
people take this behavior for granted and automatically understand it. We don't, so we have to learn what to do. After a while, it becomes
automatic. I still have a problem with people who touch me or get too close when I'm not expecting it. It used to make me jump and want to escape.
I deal with it better now. Shake the hand, or give the hug back...only takes a second, it's part of the social dance.
There are many different levels of being an Aspie, some struggle with it more than others. I look at it as if we are strangers in a strange land, and
if we want to blend in and work and live on this planet, we must learn how to act. However, never feel bad about it. Our views and thoughts are
unique, different, sometimes quite insightful in our directness, and I wouldn't change that for the world.
Be grateful that you know who you are now. If I would have known when I was younger, I wouldn't have gone through the torture of feeling like a
freak. To me, the diagnosis was a revelation and a release.