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Update: Diagnosis Progress

Yesterday was a two hour psychologist appointment to go through the questionnaires I had answered and to give further information as required. Today I am very fragile, it was expected. It usually happens after a session of analysing, especially of myself.

I have some more homework, another three questionnaires to complete by my next appointment in a weeks time.

This process is hard. I expected it to be but still wanted to proceed. I really hope the end result it worth it. I am beyond the stage where I could put myself back together and pretend it didn’t happen. I feel the layers of protection of many years trying to cope in the real world falling away in great big chunks. They can not be repaired, they would need to be replaced one layer at a time. I don’t have the time or the energy to do that again because I know those layers of protection also confine me.

Today I am exhausted. I wanted to write though, to log how I feel now, not how I thought I felt in a couple of days time, or how I think I should have felt. Today is one of the days when I could not survive out there. Today is one of the days I am scared of. I am scared that this will be my future without those layers of protection. At the moment I only have hope. I remember times when I felt happy, when I could embrace more of my weird and did not live in paralysis of what consequences may be.

Today I curl up with my small ball of hope, to rest, to let the vulnerable where my shell has fallen off grow used to being exposed.

This morning I told my husband I love him, I will always love him, but I don’t know what our future holds. That, if at any time, the way I become is too much to deal with that he is free to go. I will not hold it against him if I become too much and he needs to do what is right by himself. I hope to a god I don’t really believe in that it doesn’t come to that.

As more of the shell falls away, more of the learnt polite behaviours fall away, I become more of what I was born to be. My husband already notices that some of my social skills are failing. I do not always acknowledge or give the polite greetings or farewells. My mind has skipped and I am somewhere else, not with him at that time. I truly hope that when this is all done that some of those skills do come back, that I am not so much in self preservation that I don’t acknowledge those I truly care about in a way that is important to them.

The selfish thing is, as more of the social behaviours fall way, I feel my brain starting to work again. My thoughts are feeling freer, my memories sharper, my perception of facts clearer.

I find Autism to be such a paradox. To be one extreme or the other. I always blamed that on my star sign. I am a libran, the sign of balance, I always joked that I was the sign of seeking balance and never finding it. I was balanced, I was cocooned in inertia, lacquered in the behaviours of social expectations, unable to move and certainly not me, but I was balanced. If you don’t move there is no movement.

Now my layers of lacquer are falling off in chunks, my inertia was suffocating like a shark unable to swim so I move. The world sways and there is no balance. I know the road is rough.

Life is not about the destination, it is about the journey. I move again now, there will be more journey.

Wish me luck, I fear I will need it.

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