I’ve been thinking (and reading) a lot, lately, about Asperger’s Syndrome. It may or may not be relevant going forward but at the very least it will allow me to better understand the lack of shades of gray that my beautiful niece deals with.
As I’ve been reading Aspergirls and Pretending to be Normal it is more and more dawning on me how many of the characteristics are mine. It makes me think so much of how much I resented my childhood and how much now what I dealt with my my childhood probably allowed me to mask the way things really were in my head.
I spent so much of my childhood reading. I read almost constantly. Ramona The Brave and Ribsby and hundreds of other books. I was criticized for not watching out the windows. I was sometimes spared the fear and pain of having to go ask people if it was okay if we swiped stuff from their trash. Because I wasn’t actually allowed to have any friends it meant that I didn’t have to realize or deal with the fact that I didn’t (don’t) do well in crowd situations or with even small group interaction.
Now looking at it, I probably wouldn’t have done well with parties. I always longed to be included. But I’m not sure that being included would have been good. I was always most happy when I was able to be all alone smelling the heavenly smells in the barn (burlap, hay, corn, wood, animal excrement). Thinking now, I wonder if there are many other people who can tell at 80 miles an hour the difference between the smell of pig poop, horse poop and cow poop… I’m betting it is a me thing.
I’m not sure if it matters enough to me to pursue a diagnosis… but I’m pretty sure that I can count myself among the ranks of Aspergers Peeps…