Insights, that is. After two or three years reading everything you can find about Asperger’s, and digging up the forgotten aspects of your life as you read, you’d think you know every relevant fact about your relationship with the spectrum. Then you realize, having it shoved in your face by a new source, that an essential part of yourself is so blatantly Aspergian you wonder how you could have overlooked it. Just didn’t make the connection because it didn’t seem that significant? A rampant case of denial?
I didn’t have any negative emotional reactions to discovering that I was on the spectrum. In fact, it was a relief to learn that there were valid reasons for the many ways in which I don’t function according to society’s expectations, so denial is pretty out of character. Most of my Asperger’s traits are more or less invisible, while this one, if you’d known me for a long time, would be clearly visible. But that’s the catch. There’s no one who’s known me for more than a few years, and the evidence is so spread out over the decades that you’d not only have to have known me for all that time, you’d almost have to be an aspie yourself to have noticed it.
So the insights keep coming, though I think some facets of my early life, the ones that would have been identifiers if diagnostic measures had been available at the time, are unrecoverable. It’s been a long time, and memories fade. I also believe that in some areas, I simply didn’t form memories. That made taking the online tests more difficult and added to the length of time it took to persuade myself that I was going about the process of self-diagnosis honestly. How can you answer questions for which you have no answers? That might be something to take into account if any of those tests are ever revised. Allow for “I don’t know.” Because there’s a lot I don’t know, and I sometimes wish I did.
I’m about halfway through Neurotribes and wish I’d read it much earlier.