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i *am* asperger's. or at least the condition formerly known as asperger's. looking for answers before getting involved with/fucking up another potential dating thing, i started researching the thing up and down. hours. quizzes. reviewing past behaviours -- it was the classic light bulb going off, ah-ha shit. this THIS is why i am so fucked up on the day to day, why nothing makes sense to me, my emotions. a profound lack of understanding of others, of how to do a relationship, weird repetitive behaviours and routines - adjusting all the doors on the machines in the laundry room, propping them open on the little detergent drawer thing because it feels better. trying to find control where i can when 95% of my existence feels like it's careening through a gaurd rail at high speeds. extreme anxiety, fear, dread of leaving the apartment a lot of times, sensitivities.
my therapist disagrees. i'm too high functioning, i get along too well with her and the group. masking i say. she brushes it off and pulls out the DSM-5. whatever. i've never been able to properly express myself, explain myself, not verbally at least. i was upset and feeling not heard and sent an email to her that was probably unsavory, i've been feeling like a fucking fuck since. i trust her and her opinion comes with a substantial amount of experience. but only i know how i feel. look at this goddamn diAry of horrors. look at how i've destroyed relationship after relationship and not known why the fuck why. i thought i found the magical bullet and then she came and slapped a metaphorical kevlar vest in my way. this is a hurdle, but there's too much evidence for me to let this go because i don't necessarily classically fit into the textbook. fuck me. NOTHING is ever easy. guess i gotta work my gp now.
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