My travels on the Asperger path have shifted. I’m still travelling but I have left some baggage somewhere. My diagnosis has disappeared from my mind.
I started this journey because of it. That label was hung, albatross style, so the world could see my pain, my shame and my hurt. The diagnosis became my symbol. It was never the problem, nor was the syndrome. I was running away from the hurt that was caused in the process.
My hurt is healed. I forgive those who probed and delved into the private spaces of my psyche. Forgiveness too for those who made me doubt myself and left me second guessing every situation. My career was taken but my skills were not. I am in a different place. I am a different person.
In fact, I am almost the person I was before all this diagnosis thing happened. Happy and able to be lost in my own thoughts, I had forgotten the joy of being me. I allowed my differences to medicalised and categorised. I am too magnificent to be captured by one word. The landscape of my interior is stunning, bleak and beautiful. I have reclaimed it because I am not Asperger’s, I am my own special creation.