An awesome About me note my 15 year old Asperger daughter wrote:

[Guest guest]

It's a little long, but I promise you, it is an awesome insite into our sweet

Aspies I didn't know weather to cry or be elateded after reading this. I

hope this helps a few of you.....

My Life with Aspergers Syndrome.

by Grace F on Friday, November 4, 2011 at 11:43pm

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This is probably the most Awkward thing I've ever written, mainly because it

explains Why I act the way I do and what makes me so " Weird " . Something as

touchy as this is hard to write, especially when I look back at specific

circumstances. It's also very hard to explain to people how their words and

actions affect the way I think and the way I think towards myself. It's another

reason why in a few spots, I've left out names and why in spots it may seem like

there should be a deeper feeling there. Honestly, I encourage everyone to read

it, friend or family, because maybe... just maybe, they'll understand me a

little bit better...

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Aspergers Syndrome or disorder is considered a type of high-functioning Autism,

known mostly for difficulties in Social interaction situations, and people who

have a repetitive or restrictive interests and patterns. Even Though Aspergers

is a type of Autism, many people with Aspergers still approach social

situations, just not in the way they should. People like me will approach social

situations and try it, but find later that they were " Awkward " with the way they

spoke, or what they spoke of or just how they spoke it. A lot of times we can be

loud, indirect or hinting towards something not completely understood, only

hoping people will pick up the pieces of the puzzle and assemble them when we

can't.

Looking back, even as a child, I was nervous when going into

something new or talking to people I knew little about and even when I was with

someone I knew enough, I still felt as if I wasn't quite understood. A few times

my parents or grandparents would scold me for being too loud, or I would get

yelled at for something I didn't even know was wrong. No one ever thought that

something was wrong then, not even when there were signs.

I was always a very bright kid, talking pretty early, using full

sentences and picking up proper English pretty well too. I excelled at

memorizing things and at one point had entire children's books memorized, able

to recite without being able to read. The one thing I failed at were physical

things, like sports and exercising and more times than I can count, I would

stumble, or I would even find myself behind everyone else while running a mile.

Physical Education teachers were not fond of me because of all these

difficulties and usually my grades slipped and I would get yelled at for doing

this or that wrong, for not going fast enough, etc.

Another thing that was probably the most difficult is change. When

going from one situation to another, or breaking a cycle, I would get restless,

uneasy and nervous. Sometimes I would feel mad for something disrupting my own

little cycle, such as a sport or a having a friend over or even a family

gathering. Repetition is one of my biggest problems and I find myself frustrated

if I wake up five minutes later than I should have, or if someone stops me from

getting home for a half an hour. To me, if I'm delayed it feels as if I'm

wasting time, as if I've lost those five minutes or half an hour to nothing

important.

I also find that I have always had very narrowed interests. As a

child, my interests usually consisted of watching my dad play video-games or

going to see my grandparents across the drive-way. When I grew older, I began to

enjoy singing and dropped the previous interests and that progressed even

further to my pre-teen years, where I found myself interested in medieval and

renaissance history, which I barely researched. Presently, my interests have

come and stayed to writing and reading, (though still holding to my preteen

interests a bit).

Writing and Reading is a very large part of my repetitive cycle. At

a certain point through a school day, I will listen to audio-books or pull out a

paperback book and sit down at a chair. At night, this changes to writing, where

I could sit for hours writing fantasy stories where it allows me to finally

escape the awkwardness of reality, which according to many, is a very normal

thing for those with any type of Autism. They find their own fantasy and their

own escape, slowly pushing themselves further away from those around them, or so

that's what happens to me. For the more I seem to involve myself in my own

interests, the more I get pushed from my friends and even my family.

When I start pulling away, or when I refuse to meet someone's eyes,

I notice. When I talk, I sometimes note to myself that it sounded awkward, or

could have been difficult to understand, though when I look at other's I pick up

nothing in the way of signs that they noticed or misunderstood. I also have

difficulty processing information when it comes to body language or tone. When

someone tenses, I either don't notice or if I do, I process it as someone else's

doing.

What I do pick up on, is avoidance. I know when someone is avoiding

me when their eyes don't meet mine, when they turn abruptly or when they walk

away. It's probably the hardest part to bare and when I start getting avoided, I

begin to avoid people as well. I drift away from people, putting myself in my

own isolation, not saying a word and letting myself drift into writing or

reading and it stays that way for a very long time.

Often times, sleeping problems arise from thoughts from the day.

Sometimes I am left awake at night, remembering when someone turned around and

walked away, wondering why or what someone said to me, or what I'd heard behind

my back. Sometimes, I can even admit, I'll beg and beg to whatever is out there,

to make me normal, to help me understand, but life isn't that easy.

The sum of everything is that taking this road alone isn't easy.

It's a constant game where one move feels like my last and where even the most

mundane question could shatter someone's perspective on me. Without help, I'll

constantly miss cues I should have seen, and will probably progress to get worse

in social situations. This doesn't mean, I need someone there to hold my hand

and tell me when someone wants to be alone or when someone is starting to get

annoyed. What I need is someone to tell me outright—but nicely that they want to

be alone or that something I said really annoyed them. Without that much, I

can't make the little thoughts " Oh this irritates them! " and know not to do it.

This said, I don't need pity from anyone. I don't need people to

feel sorry for me, to hate what I'm going through as much as I do, because

honestly, it makes me feel worse and makes it harder. I'm not saying it gets

easier, because if anything, it does get harder since the time I was diagnosed

several years ago, because even though it's long gone, the memories of that time

will forever be lodged in my head. The memory of the doctor's diagnosis, the

look in my mom's eyes when she was like " Oh yeah, that's her alright " , the

memory of my mom's many phone-calls to family and friends, discussing what the

doctor said, with me right there and listening. I remember it all.

By now, I know what people are probably thinking. You think the

entire point is to get pity, to get people to be sorry, but honestly, it's not.

This is probably the most awkwardly written thing I've ever written, and is

trying to bring to everyone understanding of how it is with Aspergers. To know

how it is for me to look at someone on the volleyball team, knowing I won't be

as quick as her, or as talented as her, or for me to look at a boy or girl in my

grade, surrounded by friends where I stand alone. I envy those kids, sometimes.

Envy how easy it is for them to saunter up to a friend and chat about something

I wouldn't dream of discussing with anyone or how they can hit a ball so

fiercely, sending it exactly where they want without outwardly struggling.

So, now that people know my story, now that they know how much I've

struggled, how much I envy their ease, I hope they look at me kindly. I hope

they see that I'm still human. I very much hope that they hesitate when they are

about to insult my lack of physical skill, or insult the subjects I speak of or

when I say an unnecessary comment. I hope one day, I can be accepted amongst my

peers and one day be understood by them. I hope one day it gets easier, and one

day someone will help me to the point where I'll be able to understand on my

own, because I know I can't do this alone.

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