An Aspergian’s Confession, Part One


(This has been a good week for me. Mainly, because I’ve received an abundance of support regarding my Aspergian life. I’ve wanted to post more when I first started this blog, but, as you’ve probably learned, I was cautious at first, not sure what kind of reception I’d have. I’m pretty sensitive (no escaping it, just who we are), but I decided to give it a swing. It’s turned out great, and I’m grateful and thankful for every positive word. Truly. It’s encouraging, and when I have down moment, I think about you’ve said. Tonight, I’ve picked something I wrote, when I was 14, after a miserable day in which I could nothing right.)

I never wanted to do it.

I hated doing this.

Its stupid.

It’s a waste of time.

We can always eat dinner at home I told them, but they never listened. He’s being nice, they told me. It’s nice to be taken out sometimes, isn’t it? It’s nice to have a fancy dinner at some high brow restaurant? Oh stop complaining, it’s your condition starting up again.

My condition may damn me at times, but it also saves me too. I didn’t notice it often, but I’ve learned when to smell out someone that’s being fake. It’s my brain remembering particular patterns that cheats exhibit, and my mind warning me immediately when someone isn’t being honest with me. So it’s no surprise then, when we went out, I immediately resented the entire idea. I don’t like going out to begin with, and then throw in the possibility I may regret it later? You’d need an APB to find me, because I’m in the next galaxy. Problem is, not everybody shares my radar, and when I get hesitant, people usually assume I’m being resentful or anxious.

Hate to break it to you, but anxiety isn’t such a bad thing. It helps you pause and think before making a dumb decision, like going out for dinner when you really can’t afford it. I don’t hate you for making me go, fully against my wishes and emotional stability, but I do hate that you never gave it any consideration. Asking questions, so many questions. So many damn questions. I’m drowning, arms and legs thrashing. Get me the hell out of this, now. Please. Anything. Somebody sent me a text? Make it a 200-text conversation. The waitress walked by? Stare at her, think of how much you’d enjoy being with her, taking a walk in the park on a cool winter afternoon. Stop asking so many questions. And they’re fake. You don’t mean it. You’ll forget my answers before they leave my mouth. I know, you’ve done it before. What makes you different now? You keep pestering me, always it’s a new topic. I can’t keep up. My mind is searching for a way out, freedom. Any freedom. Anything to get me out. Kill me. Kill me quickly. I can barely breathe as it is. You don’t understand.

You think that through asking me questions, pretending to be interested in me, you’re getting closer to me. You’re wrong. You’re so wrong. If you ever thought that treating me like this would win your respect, you’re horribly mistaken. All you’re doing is pushing me away, making me hate you more, but you don’t see that. You can’t see it, because I don’t show it. I’ve learned to hide really well, because it’s the only way I can be sure I’m safe. Maybe its selfish, but it’s the only form of survival I know. I can’t show anyone anything about me, never. People don’t appreciate things they don’t understand, so you’ll never appreciate me. You’ll never appreciate it. I don’t care if you do, I care even less if you don’t. Just stay away from me. You couldn’t deal with me, you can’t deal with me. That’s why you shun me, you leave me. You left me. And you liked it.

So I learned to grow without you. I learned to fight, to strive, to starve, to bleed, to heal, to pray. Alone. On my own. You saw what I was really like, and you hated it. That’s why you left. I showed you all of me, and you took it and forged an iron sword out of it. You sharpened it, you grew it. You tested it. You rose it above me, and you cut off my head. You held my corpse on high, proclaiming your name above all. You spared me nothing. You left nothing. You took everything out of me and left me nothing. Empty. Formless. Nameless. With nothing to call home, nobody to call friend. You took everything from me, left me to die. Nothing to call home. Here I am, standing in front of you, speaking loudly. You think I love doing this, that I’d do this all the time, but you’re wrong. I hate this, I hate doing this. I hate you. I hate that you made me this way. You told me to stay in my box, and in it you suffocated every last drop of normality I ever owned. You made quiet, shy, rigid, scared, emotionless, unloving, and hidden from all else, even from the ones I love the most. You made me this way, unable to stand up for myself. Unable to speak out. I want to feel her love, to see her for the way she really is. The way everyone else sees her, but I can’t. I want to know her feelings, why she cries, why she laughs, why she yells, but I cant. I want to know how she thinks, how she dances, why she dances, but I can’t.

The second part will come tomorrow night! 🙂


37 thoughts on “An Aspergian’s Confession, Part One

  1. First, thanks for following my blog. I am now following yours. I was very touched by your story. I suffer anxiety and depression, but I am managing it. You have opened up and let the words and images flow. I think just writing all of that may help you get certain emotions and feelings out. I can’t imagine what you have to go through, the struggles you face. Your writing is expressive and vivid. I think it captures a subject that many misunderstand, and this may help those who do not know what it is like. You are a skillful writer of immense talent, and have a great gift. Thanks.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Really courageous of u to post this… You deserve nothing but a standing ovation for such honesty….
    You have an amazing blog too… 😍😘💞 I love your posts…

    Liked by 2 people

  3. You amaze me. This is so powerfully and beautifully written. I was actually picturing everything you wrote. I can’t imagine how you must’ve felt. It’s heartbreaking and then at the same time it’s because some of us do not understand your Asbergian life. You are so rave my friend. I can’t wait to read part 2. 😊 Keep writing!!!

    Liked by 2 people

          1. Awe, that makes me smile! I am trying to keep up with all of the blogs I follow but sometimes it’s hard. But I promise to do the best I can because I really love your style and what you stand for! Is your name Devereaux?

            Liked by 1 person

          2. I completely understand. It takes time to really invest in the blogs you follow, because what’s the point in following if you don’t?

            Thanks for the kinds words and support. I’ve gotten out of my slump recently.

            Yep, the name’s Devereaux. Or Dev.

            Liked by 1 person

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