I posted this on a different site on 29th November 2016, but have decided to move to WordPress, so please bear with me while I move my previous posts and catch up.
Tomorrow (30 November 2016) I have the first of several appointments that week hopefully lead me to a full ASD assessment. This first one is via the NHS, and is at a psychiatry unit, where I will be pre-assessed for the possibility of ASD but also other co-morbidities, or in other words, do I have other possible conditions, such as ADHD, or depression. I know I’m not depressed, been there, done that many times, and anyway, I’m on venlafaxine for the anxiety that has been present through so much of my life. Some may not like the idea of relying on such medication, but I function so much better with it than without.
Anyway, I know I’m likely to be asked a lot of questions about my childhood. I spent quite a lot of time thinking about it today. It’s made me feel very sad. Sad for the bewildered little girl in the playground, so much wanting to join in the skipping games, but not knowing how. The little girl in the classroom Wendy house who used to get so upset when someone else came in and interrupted my wonderfully peaceful solitary play. It wasn’t that I wanted to take ownership of the Wendy house, I simply wanted time to myself away from so many other people. That’s my over-riding sense of school, from my first day aged 5 to my last day, a couple of months short of my 18th birthday. Too many people. It was constantly overwhelming, far too much to cope with. There were so few places to escape and be alone. I’m sad for the teenager who so wanted to be liked and valued for who she was, but instead was bullied for being so bright and always coming top in tests with very little effort. There was no such thing as emotional intelligence (eq) talked about in the 60’s and 70’s. Nowadays I suspect I would be labelled as having high iq, but low eq.
I wish I could go back in time and show her some of things I’ve learnt over time, some only very recently in the last couple of years. Try and make eye contact. It doesn’t need to be long, but try to do it from time to time, with a smile, it makes you seem more friendly. Be careful who you trust, you can’t read people very well, and there will be those who will take advantage of that for a laugh, although you won’t be the one laughing. Only your diary will get to know the deep hurt of those incidents. Don’t be such a know it all. I know you didn’t mean to be, but you were. It’s good to be right about something, and it’s fine to know that you are right. But the majority don’t like being told, and told, and told. Just back off and be just quietly smug inside. People will find you more likeable if you can do this. Don’t try telling people how to do their jobs. You might not get the response you expect. You might think people want to be the best at everything they do and do it as perfectly as possible, but you’d be very surprised. Most people are happy with good enough and you need to allow them that.
And above all, don’t worry, you will find your “one”. And he’s a one and a half. He’s going to keep you on your toes, but he’ll love the very bones of you, as you will him, and through all your ups and downs, you will have a deep connection that will sustain you both. And despite the offer for him to walk away and you turn out to be defective, he won’t do that. He’ll be by your side, as will all of your family and the children you made together. It’s so good to be loved like that.