Since I will probably be spending quite some time reading these forums, I might as well introduce myself.
My name is Merlijn, I'm a 28-year old Dutchman currently writing a Ph.D. on Finnish language history here in Sweden. I'm not going to explain how that happened.
I do not know if I "have" Asperger's or not. But I've had strong suspicions for about seven years or so. The friends I told about these suspicions are somewhat divided about the issue. Of my parents, my mother is somewhat skeptical whereas my father has started to suspect he may have a streak of autism himself.
I haven't made the bother to get a diagnosis. Partially because I feel quite content the way I am, partially because I am in a foreign country without anyone but me to witness about my childhood - and there are some things I would feel uncomfortable telling a psychiatrist about.
But reading these forums, and others - there is just too much that is familiar. Personally, I cannot really judge diagnostic criteria such as "has impairment communicating" and some such. If I need something, I'll communicate it. But reading people's personal experiences, things often start to fall into place for me.
I was - far as I know - a very quiet child, and sick most of the time (my first memories are relating to lying in a hospital bed. Must've been two years old). Late in speaking. My mother recounted that I never really babbled, but started speaking immediately in syntactically correct sentences when I finally did. Late in other things as well, such as walking.
Apparently, I had strong special interests very early on. Particularly relating to different brands of cars. Can't remember much about that, though. Later, it was prehistorical animals - I soaked up data on geological periods, nomenclatura, size, etc. up like a sponge. This started when I was eight or so, and it was in the mid-eighties - before dinosaur fascinations became common.
School was both good and bad. Some of the tasks I just didn't get. At some point, we had to draw rhythmical lines on the tune of some music piece - and I could not simply see the point of it. Why draw something which doesn't represent anything? Tried to copy my neighbour's work, who made really undisciplined flabby lines. Teacher very upset. On the other hand, when she found out that animal life, sea creatures etc. held my interest, she made sure we got the right books about them at school.
I was pretty much happy on my own, either with a book or with a pen and paper to draw things (usually prehistorical monsters). My parents always made a point of indulging those interests. But at ten or so, I was sent to the child psychiatrist because - and this hit me when I heard about it later on - my parents worried that whenever I had a birthday party, I'd let the other children play around while withdrawing myself into a corner with a book. The child psych sent me back with the message I was perfectly happy the way I was.
(there's other small details. I spent some time when eleven or so at a Scouting camp, which I experienced as sheer Hell. I recall my mother telling one of the leaders: "He lives a bit in his own world" and the scout leader rolling her eyes at that.)
Speaking was, probably, odd at times. Remembering having a long period of saying everything twice. Copied a lot of phrases out of Asterix comic books (I was always rooting for the Romans there). At some point I felt I had to try out accents, which must have driven people up the walls. I still delight in finding new words and using them - particularly in English. When writing academic papers, I often find myself searching for contexts where I can use "albeit" and "kaleidoscopic" (my current favourites).
Pain experience was off. Still is. I've gone to sleep with broken arms, and slept. But light touch on my back area is sheer torture.
Later on, during puberty and high school, some things disappeared - notably my more obsessive interests, though I guess some of the categorization/rote learning thing gets indulged in my current topic of historical linguistics, language families, etc. On the other hand, I started constructing elaborate imaginative worlds with working economies, sensible social systems etc. Wasn't always too happy during that time and seeking refuge in "the other world" helped me a lot. They're still with me.
Currently, I'm quite happy with my work, and generally content with my life - with the exception that anxieties, and worries, have a tendency to get the better of me. I used to be a very severe hypochondriac - my thyroid stopped working a year or two ago, and the physical sensations accompanying that were somehow translated into "death is imminent" without any reason to it. But somehow anxieties tend to focus on other areas of my life as well. As if I'm constantly casting a very cold and hypercritical light on myself.
Socially, I'm not complaining. Have a few very good friends. But I still find social situations immensely draining. And the problem with dating and the like is that I simply wouldn't know where to begin. Talking up to a stranger I don't know anything about - and about what? I never really could do it. The relationship experiences I have had (which were quite far between) were all due to the other side being really tenacious.
But I think I need a lot of time for myself in between "social" events, and am quite happy with how I have organized those things... It's the obsessive worrying that gets me the most, at the moment.
Regards,
Merlijn
11 Aug 2006, 8:02 pm
