The past few days have reminded me of my existential struggles of 25 years ago. As the time of my first therapy session moved closer, my mind began sifting through the important moments of my inner life. Painful memories buried deep under the shadows of many seasons resurfaced as I tried to make sense of my experiences under the new light of autism. All of the odd behaviors and inclinations and rueful experiences began to settle into a new and clearer reality. As if I was a scientist searching for years through random sequences of numbers, trying to find some kind of order and logic, and finally, by chance, the numbers fall into place, a pattern emerging.
In a way the whole thing makes me sad, as I see that all along I was destined for loneliness and isolation. Eventually I realized there was no use trying to break through a brick wall, so I turned away and accepted my fate, which allowed me to live in peace. Along the way I met a few people who I felt comfortable with, and who accepted me. For this I am blessed and lucky, for it could have instead been years of solitude and silence.
When I arrived at the therapy session the doctor asked one question and that set me off on an hour long ramble of spoken thoughts. While I usually don't subject people to that kind of monologue, I have to admit it felt good as it is the only time that my words have any meaning. I thought of a couple of people I used to work with at the Nature Center and laughed to myself that I should have been paying them by the hour because they would let me ramble on about things and were kind enough not to fall asleep on me.
I am not sure what the doctor thinks of me or my problem, but I can see the value is not so much what I say during the session, but all that goes on before and after - it is back to trying to understand my mind and how it relates to the world and the things which inhabit it - picking through memories of events and emotions and faces and things gone bad or good.
I sense that having the knowledge that I was born different than most is going to alter the way I think and act in the future. I used to believe I was just like everyone else, but now I know better. I can see myself in the future being reluctant to speak with words, avoiding unnecessary contact with people I don't feel comfortable with. It is the way it should be - I was born with a poison, but also, luckily, the antidote - a mind which is never bored, and which sees and senses immense beauty in every passing moment.
