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What it means…

In A Walter Mitty Character, Autism Research Unit, Meta Gav, The Uglier House Gavzette, Uncategorized, Unforgiving Minutes, UoG Newsletter, Work Diary, Writing Diary on May 18, 2010 at 9:58 pm

…to be diagnosed.

In short I don’t know. Peace of mind it isn’t. Not in itself. Not by a long way.

Regret and self-hatred haven’t been strangers the last few days. Those fifteen to twenty years that needn’t have happened as they did. Those relationships that needn’t have foundered. Those mistakes that might perhaps not have been made. Those mistakes that keep on being made now. The complexities that have gone on in those long days, months, and years building up into my personality. The fact that the direct difficulties of the disorders I have had to face unknown and unrecognised have become outweighed much of the time by second-order difficulties of social functioning, of past hurts. None of these things are easy to ignore, or to simply acknowledge as passing thoughts in the mind.

Still your face doesn’t fit. Still you don’t know what to say. Still you speak and make no sense.

Still the handful of people who make an effort to understand are few and far between, and the necessity of seeing on a daily basis the people who don’t get it, don’t want to get it, don’t need to care, goes on, making life some days like the necessity of walking those last drudging miles home with failing light, aching bones and muscles and blisters rubbing on every step.

Still people take a kind of unfamiliar pride in traducing you in any way possible, feeling better for it, feeling morally superior for it. Because people like you don’t understand the social niceties everyone has hard wired into them, and so you need to be put down for it until you learn.

Every day you trust less.

Mud can make you prisoner and the plains can bake you dry
Snow can burn your eyes, but only people make you cry

It’s the end of the beginning, with a long fight yet. A long walk ‘home’.

– Clatterbach


In Meta Gav, UoG Newsletter on May 17, 2010 at 12:19 am

However much closer I may come in the coming years to my goals of developing a facility with words that matches that of many of my heroes, nobody will ever understand how difficult it has been to get to where I now am, that is, to borrow Churchill’s words, the end of the beginning. The Churchill quote is apt, since he has many times been for me a conscious example of how one ought to fight – and in this I mean at least as much his own personal demons as I mean Hitler. The word fight, too, is choice. It has been a fight.

Friday I was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder with traits of autism. While I might quibble with the diagnosis (I certainly have more than “traits” of autism, fulfilling all of the diagnostic criteria of Asperger’s as a child, with them developing in a manner wholly consistent with highly intelligent aspergic individuals, and indeed, consistent with nothing else), this is further than I have been for years. Read the rest of this entry »