Stranded

Living life with Asperger’s feels for me like being stuck on an alien planet without a universal translator.  Maybe you learn enough of the customs to get by, to feed, clothe and shelter yourself, but for me, that feels like all it is sometimes.  Like I never really fit in, or belong anywhere.  The older I get, the worse I get.  When I get upset with friends, when they do something to hurt me, or I feel as if I’m being taken advantage of, I tend to let them go.  I have done this so many times that I have nobody left that I spend time with on a regular basis other than my mother or father.  Facebook is a poor substitute.  Some Aspies might be fine with this, I am not.  I need human contact, and mental stimulation.  I crave it.  I’m lonely as hell.

I moved around a lot as a child, from England to the U.S. and back three times before the age of 8.  I think that’s why they didn’t catch my Asperger’s.  I am naturally shy, and when your accent and sense of identity is changing so constantly, it’s natural for the teachers and other adults that you are around to think you are just a bit odd.  I always had at least a few friends in school, so that helped cover it up.  For some reason, I remember being obsessed with the idea of being popular, and always felt lonely since, well, I wasn’t.  I think really, that I just didn’t want to be bullied anymore.  I wanted to look like everyone else and sound like everyone else.  I quickly dropped my British accent after living in Massachusetts, although it took about a year or so for me to really pass as American.

As for looks?  I developed early, and my sensory problems went into overdrive along with my hormones.  My naturally frizzy hair gave me constant problems, and my mom wasn’t that into hair or clothes, so I didn’t get any help there.  I remember wearing the same two or three outfits all the time in the winter, as I was always being told to put on more layers, and I didn’t have that many options to combine together.  I looked odd; I looked like I stood out.  I wore my hair in a pony tail all the time, and the kids teased me for it.  I wore the same two scrunchies all the time, which was my choice, because they were comfortable.  I wasn’t comfortable with the feeling of my long hair being in my face, and I didn’t know what else to do.  I hated wearing a bra, which I had to start doing from the age of 10, so that made things worse.  I was still a kid but my body wasn’t acting like it.  It was a very confusing and lonely time.

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