10 Day Writing Challenge - Day 10

* Note: This was in my draft folder from almost two years ago, and it occurred to me that in not finishing it, I was not honouring myself or my readers with my truth. In posting this, I am doing just that; honouring myself with being open, and honouring you by giving you my authentic self. I have also notd that Day 9 was never published; this shall be rectified in short order.

Day 10: One Confession

This is, I think, the hardest post of the series. Not because I have such a vast collection of skeletons rattling in my closet, but rather, quite the opposite problem.

Oh, there are things about me that only a precious few know. Those things are private and the people who have that information are the ones that need to know it.

But by and large, I am an open book. I don't feel there is anything to be gained by trying to maintain an aura of mystery about myself; I present the real me to the world. If you like what I have to offer, that's wonderful, and if you don't like it, well, that's on you. Non simeus meus est.

So when it comes time for me to make a confession, I guess I have to confess that there isn't much to confess. Convoluted enough for you? Heh. Anyway...

Something that I've been largely keeping to myself and those very close to me is that I exhibit some of the markers for Asperger's syndrome, which is on the Autism spectrum. The only reason this even showed up on my radar is because of someone close to me.

Primus had been having difficulty with interpersonal relationships at school from the start, and our dear friend Uncle J, who shared a house with us at the time, and is himself an Aspie, mentioned that Primus was showing markers for it. We brushed it off for a number of years; and if I'm really being honest with myself, it's mainly because I didn't want to have what others might call a "special needs" child. An autistic child.

SO many years of societal programming, my own experience and observations with special needs kids in school - and how they were treated by other students, my decade of work as a special needs caregiver for adults and preschoolers combined to make me fearful to admit that my child wasn't perfect. But what the hell is perfect, anyway? Primus is remarkably intelligent, capable, musically inclined, and considerate (when allergies aren't interfering with his ability to think clearly). He does what's asked of him around the house with nary an eye-roll (something we really expect to see more of now that he's a teenager), and is wonderfully patient with Tertius and Secunda, despite the 7 and 8 year age gaps. He likes to cook, and still asks to spend one-on-one time with me. And he still hugs his parents.This kid is amazing.

It took Hubby and I about 3 years to really come around to the idea, and I'm glad we did, because SO MUCH of what perplexed us about his behaviour makes so much more sense now. And in learning this about him, it better equips me to help him find strategies to work around the few limitations that ASD presents. Hubby has had more trouble in finding (and understanding the need for) these "work-arounds" than I have; and one day, he looked at me and said, "Bee, I think you have markers for Asperger's." And he was right.

I joined an Aspie Adults group on the Book of Faces, and in reading these people's experiences, I saw so very much of myself in a lot of what they were saying. This gave me not only a deeper understanding of Primus, but perhaps more importantly, of myself.

So Primus comes by it honestly; some of it comes from me.