Double Rainbow! (What does it mean?)
Today's story begins with me trying to figure out how to get out of an austism/asperger's assessment I had scheduled. I overbooked myself, because I'm just lame that way when it comes to calendars--then I lose the piece of paper or bury the email with all the logistical details. It's a hazard. So I woke up this morning remembering that I was double booked between a noon recruiter lunch and a 1pm psych assessment...and if it came down to it, the lunch was part of my job and going to win. (Hey, I may be on the spectrum, but I ain't stupid. Duh.)
The main problem was the fear, some of it completely irrational. OMG! What if I try to pay and it doesn't work! I'll be so embarrassed. What if he laughs at me? What if...and here is the one that had me trying my darnedest to cancel the appointment...what if I go through all this process and he just listens, shakes his head and says, 'there is no WAY you're on the spectrum.' Which would then mean I carry a negative diagnosis around and try to explain that to the NEXT person? Which would mean...'spectrum, smecktrum, baby you is just crazy!' Uh huh.
So I did my best to try to make the call and cancel when I found out I overbooked. Couldn't handle it on Friday, because...what if he answered and I had to explain? eeee. So I waited until the weekend...and still didn't manage the call. This morning, add a new fear. "I'll call to tell him I overbooked and he's going to charge me the $300 anyway for cancelling late! OMG!"
Yeah. I was a tad wound up.
I went to the recruiter lunch and left my phone in the car so I couldn't be reached (you know, when my therapist found out I was a no show). Then...a miracle. Lunch was cancelled. Lunch with recruiters is never cancelled. On top of that, the cancellation was due to a communication snafu, with people who are...quite good at that. Let me underscore, the recruiter lunches always go off without a hitch. They are NEVER cancelled.
Except today.
I'm standing there, at 12:15 realizing I have no rational excuse for not going. Let me tell you, I have not been feeling the existence of a loving Creator in my life people--not for a very long time. Lunch evaporating felt like a sign from the Flying Spaghetti Monster Herself, and I may be faithless, but I'm not a complete idiot. I decided to trek back to my office to get the phone number and address. It may turn out that I can't even get to the location in time, especially once I do the cross campus shuffle twice to park, get the address and get back to my car. I did not dawdle, but friends, I kid you not, at 12:45 I was in the car getting the GPS directions...and was told it would take 15 minutes to get there.
Crap. I just couldn't cut a break. There simply would be no way to get out of it now. (Although, it would be funny if my payment didn't process. :D)
I turned the key in the ignition and sighed. "Okay, God," I said, "I'm in your hands. If this is meant to be, it's meant to be, I'm not going to fight it anymore."
So I went through assessment. Some parts were painful, but no more than my own introspection. Besides, like I always say, suffering is temporary. The therapist was a nice guy, in fact he told me before I left that I was clearly on the spectrum. In fact, he said, it may
be an Asperger's diagnosis, but he indicated that is might actually be an autism diagnosis. Asperger's is the milder form. Autism is more clearly indicated by developmental delays in childhood, although I think I spoke of enough "classic" autism symptoms that he considers this a possibility (I can now admit without embarrassment that I used to bite myself as a child, generally out of frustration because I couldn't write the letters correctly; I still can't form words to correct the barista when she tries to put milk in my 'room for milk' americano).
My inability to form words on demand, my selective mutism, is something many of you probably don't realize about me. I clear my throat and make to enter the conversation so it will pause. Then I gather my thoughts, as they are scattered and disordered across my brain. Sometimes, I'm not given the time to compose, and the words simply will not come out. So I listen. Carefully. Quietly. My thoughts kept primarily to myself.
Worst of all though, is when I manage to get some of them out, but they aren't heard or honored or they get twisted into something I was trying hard NOT to say. I could go on and on in this way, talking about my bike echolalia, but that's a whole story unto itself.
So...autism or Asperger's. It's a spectrum, like the colors of light that fracture through a prism. Like...a double rainbow. Aspie or autie, whatever the final result, I'm on the spectrum, and that actually feels really good. For the first time in my life I don't have to hide or cover up who I really am to keep people from staring or ostracizing me. Oh, they still will, but they ostracize you when you have to act weird to cover up anyway--you should at least have the peace of mind to be yourself, and to love the person you are without having to choke her into silent submission. Each of us should be given that validation, that barest dignity of self-worth. I'm no longer in the invisible, ultraviolet range of that spectrum, friends, and it feels really good to have some color rather than that 'black' light.
Now...I'm making references to double rainbows for my friend Art who has been very supportive through this journey, but for those of you who don't know what the heck I'm talking about...here is the viral goodness that makes me laugh at the thought of double spectrum rainbows.
and for you who would rather have the autotune version...
The main problem was the fear, some of it completely irrational. OMG! What if I try to pay and it doesn't work! I'll be so embarrassed. What if he laughs at me? What if...and here is the one that had me trying my darnedest to cancel the appointment...what if I go through all this process and he just listens, shakes his head and says, 'there is no WAY you're on the spectrum.' Which would then mean I carry a negative diagnosis around and try to explain that to the NEXT person? Which would mean...'spectrum, smecktrum, baby you is just crazy!' Uh huh.
So I did my best to try to make the call and cancel when I found out I overbooked. Couldn't handle it on Friday, because...what if he answered and I had to explain? eeee. So I waited until the weekend...and still didn't manage the call. This morning, add a new fear. "I'll call to tell him I overbooked and he's going to charge me the $300 anyway for cancelling late! OMG!"
Yeah. I was a tad wound up.
I went to the recruiter lunch and left my phone in the car so I couldn't be reached (you know, when my therapist found out I was a no show). Then...a miracle. Lunch was cancelled. Lunch with recruiters is never cancelled. On top of that, the cancellation was due to a communication snafu, with people who are...quite good at that. Let me underscore, the recruiter lunches always go off without a hitch. They are NEVER cancelled.
Except today.
I'm standing there, at 12:15 realizing I have no rational excuse for not going. Let me tell you, I have not been feeling the existence of a loving Creator in my life people--not for a very long time. Lunch evaporating felt like a sign from the Flying Spaghetti Monster Herself, and I may be faithless, but I'm not a complete idiot. I decided to trek back to my office to get the phone number and address. It may turn out that I can't even get to the location in time, especially once I do the cross campus shuffle twice to park, get the address and get back to my car. I did not dawdle, but friends, I kid you not, at 12:45 I was in the car getting the GPS directions...and was told it would take 15 minutes to get there.
Crap. I just couldn't cut a break. There simply would be no way to get out of it now. (Although, it would be funny if my payment didn't process. :D)
I turned the key in the ignition and sighed. "Okay, God," I said, "I'm in your hands. If this is meant to be, it's meant to be, I'm not going to fight it anymore."
So I went through assessment. Some parts were painful, but no more than my own introspection. Besides, like I always say, suffering is temporary. The therapist was a nice guy, in fact he told me before I left that I was clearly on the spectrum. In fact, he said, it may
be an Asperger's diagnosis, but he indicated that is might actually be an autism diagnosis. Asperger's is the milder form. Autism is more clearly indicated by developmental delays in childhood, although I think I spoke of enough "classic" autism symptoms that he considers this a possibility (I can now admit without embarrassment that I used to bite myself as a child, generally out of frustration because I couldn't write the letters correctly; I still can't form words to correct the barista when she tries to put milk in my 'room for milk' americano).
My inability to form words on demand, my selective mutism, is something many of you probably don't realize about me. I clear my throat and make to enter the conversation so it will pause. Then I gather my thoughts, as they are scattered and disordered across my brain. Sometimes, I'm not given the time to compose, and the words simply will not come out. So I listen. Carefully. Quietly. My thoughts kept primarily to myself.
Worst of all though, is when I manage to get some of them out, but they aren't heard or honored or they get twisted into something I was trying hard NOT to say. I could go on and on in this way, talking about my bike echolalia, but that's a whole story unto itself.
So...autism or Asperger's. It's a spectrum, like the colors of light that fracture through a prism. Like...a double rainbow. Aspie or autie, whatever the final result, I'm on the spectrum, and that actually feels really good. For the first time in my life I don't have to hide or cover up who I really am to keep people from staring or ostracizing me. Oh, they still will, but they ostracize you when you have to act weird to cover up anyway--you should at least have the peace of mind to be yourself, and to love the person you are without having to choke her into silent submission. Each of us should be given that validation, that barest dignity of self-worth. I'm no longer in the invisible, ultraviolet range of that spectrum, friends, and it feels really good to have some color rather than that 'black' light.
Now...I'm making references to double rainbows for my friend Art who has been very supportive through this journey, but for those of you who don't know what the heck I'm talking about...here is the viral goodness that makes me laugh at the thought of double spectrum rainbows.
Click to viewand for you who would rather have the autotune version...