It will be familiar to you, perhaps, but it is new to me. Finally, I have foound out what the "problem" has been all my life. People always said I was different, some in kinder ways than others. I was ashamed and did not fit in. I was very quiet, so as not to say the wrong thing.
When I earned a MS in physics and got into science, my difficulties lessened. At last, I found people who understood my jokes! I worked as a scientist for 20 years. However, I noticed some disconcerting things: most of the jobs available to me were military-related; my older scientist friends had difficulty finding jobs; and being a scientist made one adopt a nomad-like lifestyle, always following a government contract around the country as it was awarded to different companies. Sometimes the contract just went away, and with it, colleagues' jobs.
When I myself became older, the job difficulties I'd noticed began to apply to me. One employer paid a fixed amount for health insurance. This was great for the new grads; their insurance was fully paid. However, the older employees, myself included, had to pay hundreds of dollars a month extra. Then I began to go to the Quaker church. I liked it there, much better than other churches. As a result, the military aspects of my work, always a minor source of uneasiness, became a major source of discomfort.
These various pressures, plus hearing a public radio series on the nursing shortage and a few coincidental events, resulted in a decision to return to my old career of nursing. Within a year, troubles began.
A patient denounced me to my supervisor as insensitive. That had not died down before another accused me of being rude. Furthermore, the incessant interruptions and the emotional content of interractions ended up in my "losing it" several times in front of everyone. As a result, I was judged "unfit to work" and sent home on temporary disability.
The shame was overpowering. I, who had always worked hard, who had been awarded a Technical Circle of Excellence award at a former job, was UNFIT to work! A difficult time followed. Luckily, I live in cohousing and have some neighbors with whom I could share my grief. They gave me encouragement. One of them let me paint a mural on her wall to give me something constructive to do. It really helped that everyone liked the mural. For awhile, it was all I had going for me.
The hospital required that I see a psychiatrist, a psychologist and a medical doctor. Between them, somehow, I was diagnosed with AS. When I learned about AS, many things about my life began to make sense. The burden of shame that I had always carried, after becoming so heavy, began to lift.
Now I have less shame than I have had since I was a young child, since before everyone began pointing out that there was something "wrong" with me. I am learning to live as myself, rather than as a poor imitation of others.
With the lessening of shame, I find that I can do the hospital job. I will never be great at it; that is OK. I am looking for another job, but there is no pressure.
I have discovered Aspergers-Mensa, ASPIRES and now WrongPlanet.net. I look forward to other discoveries, now that I am closer to the truth about myself.
09 Nov 2005, 6:12 pm
