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.
3 comments:
Dear Sister,
I believe (and I think your friends would agree) that you are no more socially awkward than the rest of us. In fact, we all think you are a delight to talk to and/or spend time with. Besides, you don't have any of the really fun ticks associated with Aspbergers.
I submit that you have fallen prey to the disease that affects us all occasionally. Namely, you are spending too much time in your own head. Speaking for myself, that can be an exceptionally frightening place. I suggest the following course of treatment:
First, go stick your head in a snow bank. Second, run back into the house cursing as if you have Tourette's syndrome. Third, pour a drink and call a friend.
Love,
Brother John
Today I think I have Lyme disease...tomorrow I will concentrate on Tourettes. I agree with Brother John - have a drink and call it a day!
SBAM (your phrase, I think, Sister by another Mister): I think you're just more honest than I. And why didn't they tell us that middle age came with all this self-doubt? Red Ferrari my ass, we need a long vacation in a sunny spot with all the fixins for this mid-life crisis. Hang in there 'til Mexico! And, by the way, can I borrow Brother John for some good advicing?
p.s. Finally watched the Kling/Barry VHS; thanks for sharing! Drinks soon?
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