Julie Clawson has been blogging an interesting series in which she discusses her disability, as well the reactions that she has had from both church people and society at large. I’ve enjoyed reading her series, particularly since I had been considering blogging about my own disability, but hadn’t yet decided on when I should do so. Given the synchronicity between Julie’s blogging and my thinking, I’ve decided that there is no better time than the present!
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I’m not normal, and I have the papers to prove it.
See, back in 2003, I was formally (as in going through several rounds of psychological testing and interviews with two psychologists) diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome. I have my diagnosis on paper, in the form of a psychological report, which I can wave in front of interested parties in order to prove my disability.
For those of you who have not heard of it, Asperger’s Syndrome is a pervasive developmental disorder sometimes called “autism-lite”. People with Asperger’s Syndrome (nicknamed “aspies”) have difficulties with social interaction and tend to develop relatively narrow areas of interest on which we focus (some would say obsess) for extended periods of time. Many of us experience difficulty managing sensory input (i.e. smells, tastes, sounds, etc), have poor motor skills, and can be rather inflexible in our need for routine, ritual, and order.
Some adult aspies experienced intense relief after diagnosis. I, on the other hand, was pissed off. I looked back at thirty-four years of pain, suffering, and lost opportunities, and wondered why the hell God had let this happen to me. I also wondered why my parents, teachers and other adults who were supposed to act in my best interest didn’t see that there was something wrong with me (that went beyond being “lazy” or “acting out”) and try to get me some help.
Eventually the initial, most intense anger passed, and I was able to take a more level-headed view of my situation. The truth is that I was one of the lucky ones: Unlike many aspies, I had good relationships with friends and family members. I held a job and had graduated from both college and graduate school. I did not need to be medicated, nor had I ever been institutionalized or incarcerated. In other words, I was (and am) a functioning adult.
Still, I realized that there were a number of areas in which my condition had adversely affected my life and would continue to do so. The past four years have been a time of healing and self-examination as I have struggled to understand my past, live my present, and plan my future in light of my disability. I’m going to share more about this process in my next posts.
Thanks for reading.
