In therapy, I read out loud what I call the ‘Asperger Rap.’ I felt liberated telling someone, this time a psychological therapist, my very personal thoughts in a creative way. I like finding ways to tell people what is going on with me. Between reading the ‘Asperger Rap’, writing comic about my adolescence (be patient, it will be finished one day), to dreaming of being a disgruntled stand up comedian, my therapist determined I have a strong desire to tell a story, my story.
This is the first post, I think, where I actually come out with my diagnosis. I have held back for fear that the wrong person would read this and it would matter somehow. But, I have been employed long enough to know that I have nothing to fear. Meeting me usually is a good indicator that something is different. If I can’t hide it in person, I don’t need to hide it online.
This story I keep coming back to, my experience as a woman who has Asperger syndrome, I believe is the answer to why I like to write and why I started my blog. I strayed away from my theme, domestication: a journey toward independence, and wrote a bunch of craft and recipe posts. But, my original thesis statement is of a slightly dysfunctional woman takes baby steps toward taking good care of herself.
I constantly yearn to tell my story whether it be a comic about my junior high experience (coming to a web comic near you… one day.) or writing beat poetry. I have this vision I keep coming back to of myself yelling on stage and making an audience laugh at my experiences. Maybe that is grandiose. Maybe my only audience is a therapist. Maybe time will tell. Until then, I will write. And rap.
A donkey walks into a bar and orders two hamburgers
The bartender says “What we have here is…”
Ask me again
I’m lucky enough to speak
And I have something to say
You can try my symptoms
But you can’t cure my humanity
I’m not sick
It’s not mercury poisoning
Vaccines didn’t make me such a dick
Since the label was taken away by the APA
I was cured, but I’m still weird
Was it refrigerator mothers?
Aliens stole our brothers?
It’s nature; it’s nurture,
I belong on Jupiter
Do you think in pictures?
I’m not the Rain Man
There’s only one Temple Grandin
I’m no savant, just an idiot
who got the short end of the stick.
Nerds, geeks, dorks, freaks
I’m a creep who just wants to be basic
Maybe I should embrace it
Like self dx’ed Aspies wearing orange bands
Represent the puzzle piece turtle club
Moms protect their kids from lonely birthday parties
Blogs and support groups advocate for our one winged angels
looking for the missing piece to the puzzle
What’s worse? Getting picked on or getting ignored?
I don’t have a clue how to think like you
I’m not rude; you’re just a prude
Didn’t mean to stare, I just like your hair
Neurotypicals scare me
When they try to repair me
God made me this way
I am here to stay
Lots of words