I started reading a memoir of someone with Asperger's syndrome, so now, of course, I think I have it. But, you know, diagnoses (even spurious ones, made by aspiring hypochondriacs) are not really comforting. It can explain the social awkwardness and trouble concentrating, but it doesn't really help me live in my body more effectively.
God. This is like the blogging equivalent of an uncomprehending stare. You should just go read Night Editor. She is sharing real information, dammit. She is part of the reason that St. Paul is shooting to the top of the literacy charts, people. She? Is part of the solution.
I? am having trouble making sense of it all.