I realize that I was different when I started to be introspective in third grade, when I realized that not everyone preferred reading and making up fantasy worlds to jumping rope and playing "girls catch boys".
I didn't really care, because I was able to ignore any and all verbal insults due to my logical judgment that they were either categorically untrue or not at all insulting until seventh grade, when I was forced to get my head out of the clouds. Fortunately, I've learned to project much more confidence than I really feel, so I dealt decisively with one persistent bully, who was humiliated enough to avoid me for the final year and a half of middle school, to my great relief.
I have not yet managed to work up the courage to ask my parents about diagnosis, unfortunately. They turn everything into "what do you think? how do you feel?" and I find that sort of thing extremely uncomfortable.
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Life is a long series of juxtapositions, ironies, and paradoxes.