I typically like to keep the material here more comedic and light if I can help it, but there is an issue I feel a need to express here. I'm sorry if you don't like me talking about something serious or if you don't like the issue I talk about here. If you don't, you can go read my previous posts or visit another blog until I get back to comedic content. For those who do want to keep reading after this, it will probably be a long one. I apologize if it gets lengthy and hard to follow, I'm pretty much blabbing out whatever my brain is feeling at the moment. It's one of those nights.
On Tuesday of this week, I got a call from a neuropsychologist I've been seeing. Finally she has come back with a definitive diagnosis as to what is wrong with my brain, and the verdict is: Asperger's Syndrome.
This is not really a surprise, my family and I have suspected this for the last few months and was the entire reason we went to this doctor, to confirm or deny that is what I have. We didn't just magically come up with this. My parents have put up with me and the way I am for 21 years, and always chalked my odder or less socially acceptable behavior as 'oh that's just Jo'. They saw an episode of a show called Parenthood, particularly an episode which featured a child who has a severe case of Asperger's Syndrome.
Normally this would've just passed by uneventfully. First my mother mentioned to me offhandedly 'Y'know, this kid on a show dad and I are watching reminds me of you.' And naturally I pretty much said 'Cool story, awesome.' and went about life. About a week later, an event which has been entirely unprecedented in our family's long history of interfacing with one another: My father, independently of my mother mentioning how this kid on the show reminded her of me, turned to my mom and said: "Doesn't he remind you of Jo a little?"
And thus began our crusade to get me diagnosed. It started with a bunch of home research and ended this Tuesday, finally, with a phone conversation with my doctor.
Now, ever since I started being tested, I've been dealing with the concepts that some of my various character flaws--not being able to break certain patterns of behavior, constantly talking about myself no matter if my logical side is screaming at me to shut up and listen, interrupting people when they're talking, randomly sharing facts that sometimes are or aren't related to the conversation and the worst one of all, seeming to repel my peers and being socially ostracized--are not my fault. For nearly 21 years I have been seesawing between not caring and caring so deeply about these flaws that I feel/felt that because of these flaws I just didn't deserve to keep breathing. To learn that many of these behaviors are not just flaws I should be able to change, they're symptoms of a condition that make it nearly impossible to conquer them without outside help is a simultaneous relief and stress. I still barely know how to feel about it.
For the first month of learning I might have this condition--and learning just how much of it fits my personality--I was frustrated because I hated how much of my personality and who I am fit a disease. Frustration that maybe all I was WAS this condition, fear of what that meant for me.
After the first month or so, dealing with the idea of having this condition I faced a new problem of learning when my actions were being affected by it. Which of my behavioral tics were Asperger's, and of course learning to know when that's what it was and it wasn't just me uncontrollably being a bitch. This is a part that I'm still learning about and will probably take years to master if I can master it at all. Once I graduated college, I found myself seesawing less and more sitting and staying at a deep depression that began to make me so apathetic that I just couldn't enjoy anything that I was doing with my time. My writing felt pointless, playing on my MMORPG World of Warcraft started to feel like a waste of time and money, my volunteering at the local hospital felt like I just made life more difficult for all around me and had no real bearing on whether or not I am employable. And hunting for a job felt ultimately futile because there were no jobs, I was not qualified enough and I was far too socially awkward to work in the real world..
In essence, I began to feel like if I ceased to exist, the lives of those around me would become easier and free from the constant annoyance I provided. Now, I was no stranger to these feelings to begin with, but following my graduation from college they came to an almighty strong head that I am still having problems pulling myself out of.
Having a definitive diagnosis is bittersweet at best. I'm glad to finally have an answer rather than trying to guess and match symptoms to a condition by myself. But at the same time, I guess I kind of hoped I was normal, that it was everyone else who had a problem. I'm not sure exactly why I'm dismayed. Maybe it's the depressive part of me that is trying to put a feeling of dismay on nearly everything in my life.
I guess right now, I'm just trying to understand myself, if not to feel more comfortable in my own skin. I'm not asking to love myself, that's impossible and unrealistic, but to not feel quite so close to a point where in my head every breath I take is robbing someone more important of that air. That it's okay that I'm alive and it's okay that I am how I am. I want to NOT be paranoid that everything I say to a friend is the wrong thing and I've annoyed them into being angry with me. I want to NOT feel that I don't deserve the friends I have. I want to NOT feel as though all around me only interface with me because they either have to or feel obligated to because they feel sorry for me. I want to NOT feel like a burden on my family and friends, either financially or emotionally. I know I may never achieve those things, but I heavily pray that I will.. or that if I don't, I fulfill God's purpose for me and at least survive until that's done.
