They didn't ask, so should I really tell them?

Post Reply New Topic

Understanding is ALWAYS a good thing, but we must be very careful not to predicate it on others' misconceptions. I've had friendships which might've been wrecked by telling people about my brain, I still probably do, but I've had FAR better ones that nearly began that way. Some people shy away from anyone they believe they can't communicate with or avoid harming, some are too set in their 'normal' ways to tolerate uniqueness and yet more just plain don't like anyone with talent they believe could threaten their own conceited social status. Only with the progress in research on any such topic, both personal and institutional, do these topics enter into our social lives. As a kid I knew all the words to describe my AS, but few people anywhere in the world had learned how to arrange them.

Consider how this might have gone down before Hans Asperger and his subjects! Probably comes close to the sum total of all alienation you have ever felt, compressed into a tiny divot in space-time.

Don't ask; Don't tell is perfectly good policy

Instead of asking, try to stay a step ahead of someone's communication troubles. Instead of telling, volunteer information that won't offend and see where the conversation goes. Information overload is a particularly easy place to start as it's considered part of 'the modern condition' quite commonly, stims are nearly 100% acceptable if you're a coffee drinker . Visual thinking is a no brainier, everyone has to do it sometimes, even if it's not their strong suit. You don't have to outright tell anyone about any of your diagnoses of course, but the only direction to go is up where social contracts are concerned. There's more to this than an incongruous code of silence, I solemnly guarantee.

2nd edit: For me, discussing theories of mind is right up there among my stereotypical 'obsessions' in terms of the topics that engage me most. If you walked up to me and said you were a psychopath, I wouldn't have any reason yet to presume you were a violent person; quite the opposite as a matter of fact, I'd guess I was being preconditioned to HELP.

This seems like a good policy.

I told a number of people about my diagnosis. Ultimately, no one really cared. Which, after thinking about it, is not much of a surprise. This stuff just isn’t that important (at least to them), especially at my age.

I have no plans to tell anyone else.

I can see where telling friends could be more useful to we young ones on the spectrum, but despite my relatively few years I still think anyone can find friends to discuss this with at length. All too many people must just be looking in the wrong places, because relating over the causes of pain is the very definition of catharsis.

It may help, true friends will understand and be supportive, but don't let it become a crutch or an excuse to behave poorly.

In my experience, if anything, people knowing who you actually are helps you behave better. It's worlds easier to get backed into corners otherwise.

I told a few friends and family members and the generally reception was denial because they love me the way I am and don't want to believe that my lovable quirks are associated with a "disorder". Some of them have come around to acceptance and others will just probably avoid the subject for the rest of our lives. In the case of my sister, she had denial and then anger and still thinks that I am trying to use aspergers as an excuse for my faults.

I told my closest friend, then when met with good reception I decided to experiment and tell my entire homeroom class. (small school, we all knew each other. I was leaving the state soon so I figured I'd take a risk) To my surprise, it was all good reception. Although everyone was surprised and a bit doubtful they accepted it. Even the one boy who'd always found me annoying and egotistical (I think he was also a bit jealous because I was his competition for top student) was positive, and in fact stopped picking on me so often for my quirks. Quite a few students even 'complimented' me on how well I hid it.