116 Reasons I Know I Have Aspergers

116 Reasons I Know I have Asperger’s Syndrome

1.  Writing this list.

2.  Enjoying writing this list.

3.  Love, love, love animals and bugs.

4.  Do I have to leave the house?

5.  Nature is heavenly as long as I can stay clean.

6. Collector

7. Toys are objects to be organized, stacked, categorized, or cleaned.

8. Friday the 13th in 3-D three times because I think the number 3 is awesome!

9. Red fluffy socks with high-heels

10. Sweater on inside out, again.

11. Memorized how to spell and sing supercalifragilisticexpialidocious in an attempt to qualify for speech class.

12. I was Jacqueline Smith; never Farah.

13. Every stuffed animal named, categorized by birth, and kept until after college.

14. Snoopy in a chair looking out the back of the window of my first car.

15.  Seven days straight perfecting my penmanship before I began teaching.

16. Clever Clyde was a famous humanistic caterpillar in the stories I wrote.

17. Buddy One was my imaginary ghost friend.

18. Entering poetry (scam) contests.

19. Hamsters aren’t stuffed animals.

20.  Goldfish do die when left under the hot sun in a small bowl of water.

21. Childhood friends were students, the members of my club, customers, or placed in another subordinate position.

22. Backgammon pro by age nine. Cribbage pro by age fifteen.

23. Perfected Pac Man and Space Invaders while watching every episode of Three’s Company.

24. Called dumb blonde, in regards to getting jokes; I’m a brunette.

25. You do not sit with your legs spread while wearing a cheerleading skirt.

26. If I’m her best friend, why does she need more friends than me?

27. I have a confession to make, I was thinking about lying, but I didn’t.

28. Naïve, sweet, gullible, unique, hyper, interesting, odd…

29. I have 120 flaws; should I list them?

30. Don’t answer the phone!!!

31. Note to self: Read the birthday card before grabbing the money and jumping up and down.

32. Hello? Your toenails do need to be cleaned occasionally.

33. “Snob! You always look away.”

34. Victim, with her head down.

35. Statistically speaking your chances of dying from that are slim; I researched it for five days.

36. Website built, 100 pages total, in 5 weeks. Go baby.

37. Months and months on freebie websites equals toothbrushes, baskets, lotions, and much more.

38. I had the coolest property on Farmville.

39. Why do fantastic ideas the night before, not seem so fantastic in the morning?

40. Don’t answer the door!

41. I don’t want to go…It’s too much work for me to put on a bra.

42. Monopolize a conversation? Who me?

43. Depression, Anxiety, blah…blah….blah

44. Verbal processing

45. Can you say manuscript?

46. What exactly is a guilty pleasure? And why would people do something that makes them feel guilty?

47. I don’t understand, it’s old wives’ tales? Not old wise tale?

48.  Just Relax. Not comprehending. What does it feel like to relax?

49. Non-fiction galore.

50. Twitching and jumping because it’s museum time!

51. Oh no! You did not just change the plan.

52. Carpet, dirt, germs, clutter, blemishes, lips, breath….Yuck!

53. Don’t hug me right now.

54. Okay, you can hug me, but not too tight, that hurts.

55. Are my shoes on the right feet?

56. I wish I hadn’t sent them that garage sale crystal for their wedding present; what was I thinking?

57. Do you think she’ll like these earrings I never wore or a gift certificate?

58. What do you mean this letter might offend my professor?

59. Here’s a bruise, and another one. Look at this one.

60. Let’s drive around the block again and look for a spot. I can’t parallel park.

61. Group sports? Swinging a bat? Dressing for PE? Run in fear!

62. All the fun is in the planning. The party itself is terrifying.

63. Why do people bully and tease?

64. Give me a role or a part, and I’ll perfect it.

65. Should I dress like my best friend, my spiritual counselor, or the lady on my favorite soap opera?

66. I love having friends my mom’s age.

67. Monthly Bunco with the Episcopalian Retirement Group? Why not?

68. After-social-event debrief time: When I said this, do you think it was offensive? Why did she look at me that way? Should I have kept my mouth closed? Was that appropriate. I’m quitting Bunco; it’s too stressful.

69. My only friends in second grade, two twin boys, Chris and Jimmy.

70. My only friend in kindergarten, Keith. He moved to Hawaii.

71. Sure, I can write for ten hours straight. Can’t you?

72. Doesn’t everyone have a voice reminding them what to do during a conversation: make more eye contact, step closer, nod your head, smile, but not too big, insert giggle, let them talk more.

73.  Give me a passion and give me a week to learn everything there is to know about it.

74. Hypochondriac

75. Stop talking; you’re hurting my ears.

76. You smell funny.

77. Is that your natural hair color and how old are you?

78. Camping sucks.

79. Criteria for boyfriends? Criteria for friends? What?

80. Name an object. I can tell you 100 uses for it.

81. Let me fix the situation.

82. Just because the thought is in my head doesn’t mean it needs to get out. Or does it?

83. Crossing the street, so I don’t have to pass the stranger on the sidewalk.

84. How do you turn around at the halfway point of a walk without looking silly?

85. No events in college. One friend in college – before she stopped answering my calls.

86. ADHD, PTSD….blah, blah, blah

87. Therapists, psychologists, priests, reverends, psychiatrists, hypnotists, and the like are kind of clueless about recognizing Asperger’s in females.

88. I’ll just hang out in this closet until the party is over.

89. I’ll be in the backroom writing until the party is over.

90. I’ll be reading in the bathroom until the party is over.

91. Why do you ask me how I am when you don’t want to hear the answer?

92. IBS

93. Funerals are confusing.

94. Let’s practice small talk; the ritual is intriguing.

95. Queen of evaluation

96. Stopped eating lamb at age four, pork at age eleven.

97. Words are beautiful or painful.

98. Fixations, obsessions…blah, blah, blah

99. Let me organize your pantry.

100. I should have asked before buying a puppy?

101. What can I eat that doesn’t have pesticides, hormones, mutations, cancer-

causing ingredients, sugar, sugar-substitutes, dairy, preservatives, chemicals,

bleach…..I’m watching too many documentaries

102. Time for another organic juice fast. Time for more organic chocolate.

103. Either no one has ever flirted with me in my entire life or I don’t recognize

flirting.

104. Give me a visual, a guideline, a rule, and stop all the jabber.

105. I can tell you exactly where anything is on my kitchen shelves; but don’t ask me where my keys are.

106. Imaginary play is confusing unless there is a script.

107. I like to analyze the sentence structure and grammar in fictional books.

108. It’s hard to recognize faces.

109. Do you want to hear this record for the fiftieth time?

110. I’m the one reading the Buddhist book at my son’s baseball game.

111. Listen to what I wrote. I edited it.

112. Grownups shouldn’t lie about Santa or that the government is looking out for our best interest.

113. I trust you.

114. I over-share.

115. I would be happy to eat the same meal everyday.

116.That fixation to write this list is gone. I don’t know why, it just is. (It really bugs me this isn’t number 113.)

Sam’s book, Everyday Day Aspergers, has received great reviews and is on Amazon! Link

 

(I know. This is only MY story. Not yours.)

© Everyday Aspergers, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. https://aspergersgirls.wordpress.com

Day Five: Swimming in Uncharted Waters

Day Five

Okay. So it’s technically still Day Four, but according to this blog site clock, it’s the next day somewhere. I just got off of two phone calls in a row with two of my closest friends. Yes, I said close friends; I do have them.

Poor gals. I verbally processed them to near death. I’m learning that the more I talk and write, the more I am able to relieve my anxiety, especially about particular discomforting events. Unfortunately, my path has been paved with repeated discomforts as of late. And nothing like I could have predicted.

I’ve come out, in a sense, with my Asperger’s Syndrome, for the first time in my life. (Put into perspective, not that big of a deal, because I was just recently diagnosed; but from a different perspective, a very, very big deal, as it’s new, unfrequented territory for me = vulnerability.) One of my college professors would call the subject of my Asperger’s diagnosis a door number three. Not a door number one, which is the no big deal stuff in life, conversational light-hearted jargon regurgitated at cocktail parties. Door number two is a little more sensitive–things you’ve dealt with maybe in therapy or another form of processing but that are still personal and touching. Door three, oh boy, that’s the deep, deep wounded junk, the place where the scars get ripped open and you bleed all over the place–again. Well, for me, my fresh Asperger’s diagnosis is a door number three.

And I did bleed, let me tell you.

I tried to do right. I truly tried. I know enough from life and learning that to share, I ought to first evaluate the situation. I’m referring to the safety of the place and person, even the situation, and the whole trust issue. Trust in general is what us Aspies tend to have a hard time evaluating. I’m way over-trusting. I figure everyone will support everyone, will tell the truth, will be there when you need them, won’t back stab you, or let you down intentionally. That’s one of the many qualities I think is super-fabulous about Aspies. We’re not only super trusting but you can trust us. It works both ways, you know.

I’m still learning that whole thingamajig (hey that’s a real word, and I spelled it right) associated around building trust. For the most part, in my later adult years, I’ve been very fortunate with building friendships and working with professional people who are trustworthy. I believe as a general rule that you reap what you sow and you attract what you put out there. Basically, if you act like a boob, don’t be surprised when there are a bunch of boobs about you. And no, I don’t mean that literarily!

Lately, it’s been all boobs. In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if all the manure I put out there to sow my fields isn’t being flung straight at me. Seriously, this University, I’m paying the equivalent to my entire retirement savings to attend, sure is surprising me. I mean, I’m thinking, that of all the places on the planet, that a counseling university program taught by practicing therapists, should be the ideal place to be vulnerable–to spill the beans–to be myself–to show all my cards. Not! Nada! No way in double-hockey sticks!

Gosh Darn it, she strikes again. Without going into obnoxious, over-revealing details, let me say that my experience in sharing that I had just been diagnosed with Asperger’s, (which I did in private, at two separate times, to two separate professors), went over as well as yelling timber at the top of my lungs at a depth hoar, (a very dangerous snow condition that leads to avalanches–and you thought you weren’t going to learn anything).

First off, after my mini-sharing of my condition, my  santa-claus-jolly professor side-swipes me with a full on family-system theory muscle fist (emphasis on theory), about how under the umbrella of family system my son and I would be classified as having broken brains created by our family dynamics, and that it was likely I was self-creating my diagnosis to be close to my son. This wasn’t said all in one breath, but dragged on and on in the longest five minutes of my life. Me? I did what I do when I feel assaulted, I fumbled for words, trying to defend myself. The story doesn’t end well. Let’s just say after I left in shock, I experienced a lot of tears, and way too much verbal processing, letter writing and editing. Then the topper was a confrontational meeting (where I yet wept again). End result, I dropped his class, agreed to disagree about how we saw the discussion, and ended up spending a few days questioning my place in this entire world! Oh, did I mention, (as I bite my lip) that he’s the head of the whole dang department. Enough said.