As me, Devereaux, I do a lot of things. I work at a coffee and donut shop. I write poems on the way to and from work. I listen to Fall Out Boy and watch American Dad. I read books and talk to my best friend about school and teenage life. I run this blog while submitting to various magazines, websites, and hope to have my poetry anthology published. I watch the Chiefs during the NFL season. As me, the aspergian, I do things I probably wouldn’t do if I weren’t.
Sometimes it’s because I feel the need to fit in. Despite being very understanding of my position in life, I still find the urge to want to be like everyone else. Five years later, and I still feel less than. Maybe it’s because I’m on the societal crust, but I’m just not always okay with being on the outside. I’ll push myself into places, conversations, and the like so I don’t feel standing alone. It’s easy to pick on the stragglers, so if I look like everyone else, nobody will suspect me. At least that’s the thinking. The problem is when I go overboard (on a personal note, I know no moderation. I either do too much or too little of something) people start to suspect things anyway. There was one time I was with this group, and I only talked to this one girl. I didn’t think anything wrong about it at the time, but then I realized how I distanced myself by picking and choosing who to talk to. As an aspie, I didn’t realize that people began to question my true intentions, and ultimately I pushed them away.
Other times I do things to prove a point. I’m extremely vocal about my condition, and I take it seriously. When people talk about autism and make jokes about it, I take it personally. I see how the media portrays us, and sometimes I take it in my own life to prove them wrong. I walk when told to run, and vice versa, because I’m not what they think we are. This usually leads to disaster, because I’m putting myself in situations that I might not even be ready for. I used to make friends with questionable people just so I could prove that people with aspergers can make friends. I now realize I was being dumb, but when you’re young you make those types of decisions. I didn’t want to be your stereotypical autistic.
The downside (if there is one) to being very aware about my condition is that I know immediately when I’ve done something very (for the lack of better words) anti-neurotypical. I’ve become very aware of my stutters, mildly incoherent sentences, or just plain silence when I really need to say something. It’s very uncomfortable, and the worst part is I know people are just as conscious of it as i. I’m not trying to, but I can’t avoid it, and once you’ve done it, like you can’t go back and fix it.
Maybe it’s not so much shame, but not being fully okay being myself, but that’s how it feels. Like I’ve done something wrong. I guess I still have a lot of growing to do.
Until next time