Unofficially diagnosed in, like, 1998 or something. I was 19 or 20. I was careful to answer the questions "correctly" (as opposed to honestly) and came up with an IQ bordering on retardation but neurotypical.
Officially diagnosed in 2011, at the age of 33. I was finally interested in knowing the truth, so I told the truth. Not surprised by the result.
Sometimes I wish I had known younger. I would not have tried to have a normal life. But I can hardly begrudge not having information that wasn't there to get.
Sometimes I'm glad I didn't know. I'm damaged enough as it is.
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"Alas, our dried voices when we whisper together are quiet and meaningless, as wind in dry grass, or rats' feet over broken glass in our dry cellar." --TS Eliot, "The Hollow Men"