How I got here:
I don't remember being born, but I believe I was.
I’ve always known I’m not like most people. Even as a kid I could tell other kids understood stuff that didn’t make any sense to me. Most people do not say what they mean or mean what they say. Somehow other kids could navigate the chaos. Its like there were instructions in a color I couldn't see. I got a lot of, “How can you not know…?” What a stupid question! I’d typically shake my head -- to clear the ambient stupidity -- and explain that while I do know somethings (mostly weird trivia), there is much more that I do not know. Information that isn’t in my head is unknown to me. That is how I don’t know… stuff.
When I didn't understand something and I asked about it, adults often told me, “Don’t get smart with me.” I figured out that they didn’t like my questions. I could not figure out how being confused was being smart. Or why being smart was wrong. <sigh>
As a young adult, I knew I was maladapted to the culture/society around me. I couldn’t even figure out how to measure/attribute what aggravated and what mitigated my issues. I figured my dad helped mitigate damage from my unstable mother and that my logic and literalness mitigated being raised in an evangelical cult. Socializing aggravates my anxiety. Solitude helps restore calmness. I simply cannot relax when I have to interact with people. I read (pre-internet) about multiple personalities, various mental/emotional conditions, cult mentality, effects of brain damage, a whole bunch of science fiction and a little bit about anything & everything including etiquette.
I had read about autism, stuff written by parents, experts, etc. I had been intrigued. I thought rocking in a corner sounded kind of soothing, but I sure wasn’t going to do it in public. I usually try to be unnoticed, virtually invisible. Rocking, moaning/humming and flapping would just get more people to try harder to fix me. Also, I could interact with others, though it was exhausting and confusing. In school I’d sucked at math, but I’d always read above far above my grade level.
Recently, my shrink said that I might have more in common with aspergian folks. I went to some different counsellors in my late teens & had some good and some very bad experiences. I ***really*** do not like it when someone tells me what I think or believe. My shrink knows this and presented the idea carefully.
So I went online and looked up aspergers syndrome. More parents and experts discussing how to fix a problem child, anti-vax nutjobs, Rainman, and WP and AFF. The name “Wrong Planet” was promising, but I found that I preferred AFF. So I lurked.
Then my family had a small reunion. I’d intended to not mention anything to my family -- they seem to think that many of my ideas are pretty far out there. My cousin Bev asked me if I had ever thought about if I have aspergers. Her son was recently diagnosed and she said that I kept coming to mind as she learned more about aspergers. Bev had been around a lot when I was a kid, but not much after I was about 14 years old (she got married, had kid, got divorced, had more kids). Her question about floored me. I said that someone had recently suggested the idea and that it did seem to fit.
I went back home and continued poking around the web. Eventually, I came across a link to this place. I was delighted.
To me, WP seems like support services for AS folks, their families and caretakers. AFF seems less formal and more about each other, the folks who actually are on the spectrum; I still lurk occasionally. I2 seems more like a bar/cafe/hangout in a basement with ragged sofas and old posters where people actually try to say what they are thinking, get called on their b.s. and get encouragement when needed. A bunch of rude, crude, socially unacceptable discussions. Perfect. I’ve lurked for a while. But finally, I
had to see the collection of smilies, so I registered.
I don’t know if I want to get an official dx. I’d have to consider the cost/benefits. I don’t see any real benefits just yet, so I’m not yet inclined to bother. I'm skeptical about practically everything and suspicious of people who want to figure out what is wrong with me.
Doubt is my dogma.
