My nascence with Asperger’s Syndrome, or Autism Spectrum Disorder was very strange in terms of the norm. The ‘norm’ being what I see now to be the landslide vote of everyone else. I had always progressed under the notion that I was simply ‘different’ from everyone else. When a child is told they were ‘different,’ they simply come to terms with whatever peculiarities they’ve fashioned. When a child rationalizes he is ‘different’ on his own accord, he is coming to terms with a world he understands and that is a world in which understanding all is not part of the norm.
There was nothing wrong with the way my parents raised me. In fact, they were quite proficient at it. My younger brother, David, happens to be finishing up a degree in engineering -field specialized in something or other that I could not even begin to apprehend. My parents are very proud of him, as am I. David and I are from two completely different universes. I am three years older than he, and have majored in, virtually, every major there are.
In the eyes of my parents, I’m a failure, simply stated. This is not due to any inefficiencies I had in my studies. In fact, I was very proficient in any studies I’d undertaken. It was the [seemingly] indecisiveness that broke my parents hearts. At the time, I could not understand why it was that I had switched over to so many different majors. Initially, I became weary of the subject because I felt I could learn no more from a particular subject. Aside from that, I felt as though there was no point in adhering to a major I had no more drive to cruise through. Instead of failing through disinterest, I simply switched over to something else I wanted to learn about.
Asperger’s Syndrome is commonly misdiagnosed as A.D.H.D. in the medical field, as well as it’s being only diagnosed clinically. That means a doctor has to see you, use their scales or whatever, and conclude that you have Asperger’s. The syndrome stemmed from a more modern prognosis and many m.d.’s are not versed in it’s speculations -some say 1 in 300 have it, and some say 1 in 140 have it. A.D.H.D. can be diagnosed for a case of Asperger’s because of the deficit of attention. The question is, how do you determine when a patient isn’t paying attention?‘ An Asperger patient reveals a heavy lack of interest pertaining to a subject or a topic, whereas an A.D.H.D. patient can NOT invest interest pertaining to a subject.
A.D.H.D. patients are distracted by environmental factors such as; birds chirping, the look of the ceiling, the folds on a piece of paper, etc., but an Asperger patient is very much so paying attention. In fact, they are paying attention more than a person of the norm. Asperger’s patients have a significantly higher IQ than most, and can tell you every minute detail about a subject they faintly inquired about. Their lack of a physical display of interest is attributed to their mental display of interest. That is to say, an Asperger’s patient doesn’t give a shit, because an Asperger’s patient doesn’t give a shit, not because he cannot give a shit. They are paying attention, however, their world of attention is colorblind; they pay no adherence to things the things that submit no personal sense of intrigue.
This was a terrible predicament to have as a child, despite individuality’s sake. Individuality to a child is as shunned upon as chickenpox, mainly during the grade school years. As I tread through those middle waters, I was not able to comprehend the value of social value. I could not see why having friends was important. Not in the slightest sense. I was content with the notion of solitude. I could not share the my precarious interests of the playground because I could not find them interesting. There was no puzzle, no mystery, no awe – nothing mental to be gained from the playground, so I opted not to digest my time upon them, despite being a playground child myself.
I had already learned that my sense of interests would not be shared by others as I marched through the sandbox battlefield, so I had forfeited my attempts to do so, long ago. Instead, I spent my nascence faking persona, to appear normal. The persona seemed correct because I was deemed to be very social despite disinvestment in my peers as everyone seemed to love me. The devising of the persona ruminated from the scoldings my parents gave me, that instated my inefficiencies in life, though I was only a child. (note: at that stage, I didn’t think there was anything wrong with me, just that everyone bored me and made me work harder.) High School would only become a repeat of what I had to endure during my k-8 years. Those were the years where I learned how to fake the more deeper senses of interests, love, being one of them, and so forth.
There is no cure for Asperger’s. And because of it’s comparability to A.D.H.D., close-minded officials of the medical community will deem it to be just as incurable. In my opinion, it really isn’t. I still suffer from it, and have a very clear understanding of it to be something far beyond the sense of apathy we all feel now and again. There is only one thing that can aid a person under going this condition. It is their own sense of rationality they can uncover during their years of assimilation with the condition. It is not unlike a ‘coming of age’ tale, as-a-matter-of-fact, it is exactly what it is like for them, however, the capacity to do so falls sternly on their state of comprehension and solving their mysteries from their youth. Once overcome, realizing Asperger’s or not, the person accomplish great things and attribute such as being a part of their nature.
I cannot be apart of such an achievement because I now have an efficient apprehension of the ‘trick‘. Once we, Asperger’s people, figure out how the trick is done, we lose interest in it, as with most and normal people in the world. I have lost interest in my life as well as where it was supposed to be headed. Reading this passage is but a curse to anyone else with my condition. The level of interest is the only thing that inspires inspiration and can be applied to the littlest of things, such as life.