As promised, a state of address, so to speak.
Over the last year, I have changed residences, signed up for SNAP, received dialectical behavior therapy for my PTSD, and an alternative diagnosis for my APD. It’s the last that has shaken my life the most.
A couple of years ago when I revealed my initial antisocial personality disorder diagnosis to the Internet, someone suggested that my behavior was more consistent with someone on the autistic spectrum. I seem to recall granting that it was plausible, but ultimately dismissing the idea.
Since then, however, I’ve had more than one therapist suggest the same thing. What’s easy to dismiss when someone on the Internet says it is a lot harder to dismiss when more than one person whose profession is to make this diagnosis says it!
If I had the finances to seek consistent visitation with a single therapist, I could get a proper diagnosis instead of these one-off “you show consistent symptology with X” referrals , but I don’t. It leaves me in an uneasy position of wondering whether the way I’ve thought of myself for years now is truly accurate, and whether the way I could think of myself would “fit” better.
And I’m not sure. I don’t know what it’s like to have Aspergers because I don’t know what it’s like to be anyone but myself. My difficulty empathizing with and understanding others combined neatly with a troubled childhood (textbook case of conduct disorder) and teenage misanthropy to fit the diagnosis of someone with APD, but perhaps it fits just as well with someone on the autistic spectrum who has difficulty with social interaction.
It has only been recently that I’ve started to think of autism as a different way the brain can function, rather than a disorder to be treated and managed and prevented if at all possible. Now, just a few months after I began trying to change my attitude toward autism, I find out I may be on the spectrum myself. It’s an object lesson if I’ve ever had one, and one which has left me feeling drift and confused about my own identity.
This is an example of one of those times when I abruptly get self-conscious and end the post.