I am sitting here and I am sobbing. I know, shocking. I do that all the time lately, seems it grew into a hobby by now. What a shame it's not something I could make money off of. I imagine I'd surpass the Kardashians by now...but this is different. Different kind of sobbing. I am angry. I am relieved. I am devastated. I am heartbroken. I am lost. I am afraid. But I finally understand. So many things, so freaking many things make sense now, and I'm angry for all the opportunities, for all the life, for all the...everything really, that was taken from me, or just ended up not happening because something, like an invisible force field held me back.
I've been different since I was in middle school, or well probably sooner, but here's the first time I can remember really being the odd one out. I never fit in basically anywhere, and try as I might, I never understood people around me. They'd call me strange, odd, weird, loner, etc...and nobody ever could actually pin point why. Oh I'm an artist, bohemic, gifted, a smartass, into strange hobbies and things etc. Everything that should in theory be a good thing but really it just made me feel disabled. Because no matter how gifted I can be in my areas, all that's been doing is separating me from the majority and sometimes, sometimes you just want to be normal and fit in. Even if you end up dumbing yourself down for it.
I guess I knew all my life really that something is ''wrong'' with me, but never knew what name the ''wrong'' has. Never knew what label to put on, never knew what IT is. And even now, well into my adult life I was scared, scared of stigma, judgement, or just general misunderstanding that came with it, which made it seek out a diagnosis a prolonged ordeal. And then there was the wondering, maybe I'm just strange, or weird, maybe nothing is ''wrong'' with me just...I don't fit in. Maybe I'm just you know, dramatic, over reacting, everyone goes through tough times, everyone has their own issues.
I think what pushed me to actually seek out a professional diagnosis was the need to understand, understand why sometimes I wanna scream when I can't do what seems to be an easy task and others saying ''well you're an adult, you should be able to...'', no Karen I just can't. I have no explanation except that there's things you do, and don't even need to think about (getting a haircut per say) make me wish I'd drink battery acid instead.
You have no idea how tough seeking out a dignosis ended up being. How many circles of hell I ended up going through, oh you're an imposter, there's nothing wrong with you, get it together, you're being dramatic, you're being stupid, you're seeking out attention, just grit your teeth and get over it, etc. I felt outta place talking with people who pin pointed my problems within ten minutes of conversation and felt like they're staring directly into my soul. And now I feel...broken. Broken because the term associated with all of this was ''special needs''. I don't feel like I have special needs, I feel shame and fear because there's no way people will ever look at me the same way now, should they learn the whole story.
I guess you know I should have figured out sooner that ''normal'' people don't need a whole god damn script to get involved in conversations, or want to scream bloody murder when forced into small talk. I suppose people don't really see people who make them eat fruit as mortal enemies? Or god forbid mixed up food is normal? I guess not feeling any pain, and hating light, or the sound drapes and forks make are also not traits of ''normal people''. I guess people CAN actually tune out, and are not bothered when there's loud conversations around them. Or can nod along and smile without wanting to strangle a person when being asked the standard ''kinder, kuche, kirche'' questions. I guess it's not really normal to struggle THAT much with information intake on things you really couldn't care less about. And I guess yes noticing details in every little thing IS weird.
I guess it's also the honesty? People don't like it? I mean I never considered that I'm being rude when telling people the truth? I never understood the hell of the question ''how are you?'' you're supposed to be polite, say ''good, thank you, how are you?'' uhm. No? I'm not good, so why should I lie? I learned to play pretend, to try and be as ''normal'' as possible without even realising, how much energy that's draining from me.
So here's the deal, what's all the drama about? I was diagnosed with autism. It shouldn't be as much of a surprise as I said, it should be more of an ''aha'' moment. Nothing should change except the fact that I now understand, and can maybe set boundaries, and live a bit easier with some form of understanding, from the world around me that really isn't designed for people like me, right? But then tell me why the hell do I feel like the world had stopped spinning? I mean I felt that way often with things that maybe the rest of the citizens of this planet don't see as world shattering as I do. But this...this kinda does feel that way. I suppose I need time to understand myself better, life, the world? I don't even know. Maybe now that I know, things will start getting easier.
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