Dear "You"...From "Me"-Letters Unsent

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Dear SpaceCase's mother,

Goodbye.
(wo0t, 1500th post! )

Dear Likho,

If you can't find anything nice to say, don't say anything, at all.

PS...

Watch your language. Children use this site, too.

Dear Dad,

You are not better than I am. What you have achieved is just great, even barring the fact that you will never use your fancy degrees and inflated resume. I do not care that you could run the 2K faster than I could in Grade 7 (do you think I need you to belittle my every achievement?) . I do not care that you convinced all of your profs to raise your grades to straight A's in university. And most of all, I do not care that you want to teach me to live my life the way you live yours. I don't want to be like you.
And you treated your child abuse like fun. You had a nickname for it. I don't believe your inhumanity.

Dear Mom,

Thanks for spending my entire life trying to diagnose me with mental illnesses. You did wonders for my self-esteem. Also, thanks for being an enabler for your husband's abuse. Why are you with him?

Dear third-grade teacher,

Thanks to your singling out of my every misstep and your catch-all punishment of being marched out of the room in front of the class and sitting out in the [sensory disaster of a] hallway alone for hours, I did not have a single friend for almost ten years after I was in your class. I hope it was because you didn't recognize that I had a problem. God help any other child with issues that showed up in your class.

Dear true friend,

I suspect that we are what we are because of our shared, amazing, brilliant, broken minds. We don't "work" the way other people do. So while we can follow each other's thoughts completely - by the way, I love you - neither of us knows how to say what we want to say, do what we want to do, be what we want to be.
And by the way, you don't know this, but you have Asperger's syndrome. You should consider yourself privileged.

Dear Carmyn,

Let me help in the kitchen, stop ordering me around, and stop talking abour your conservative children and grand children.

Shelby

Dear Mog,
Stop dragging skinks into the house PLEASE!!
We humans don't eat skinks. All they do is run under the carpet and get squished.

Dear Billy,
I'm sorry I spammed you with messages when I found your myspace.

Well, it's kinda hard to see them once they're under the carpet.
It wouldn't happen if the stupid cat would stop bringing them in.

dear Nico-
thanks for the great birthday, you really make the days better

Kilroy

always a pleasure

dear you,
i'm sorry.

me.

dear maaike

i love you
i wish i have the guts to tell you in person.

you're the greatest person i've ever met,i thank you for all the support you've given me even though you might not even be aware of it. every moment i think of you, and every day i long forward to seeing you, and to talk with you, you are one of the few who understands me even though we only know each other for like less then a year. i can actually have intelligent conversation with you, and you're not the kind of person the just pity's me all the time because you know i am autistic, you are able to see me as i am, an individual.

i love you

-luuk

dear you,
i am really hurting right now.
doesn't matter how much i lick my wounds...
i just don't feel right.
i feel like i have given up on something.
maybe because i have?
i'm just so confused right now.
and usually it would be you that i would turn to for help.
now where shall i go?
*cries*

me

dear momma

i know you say that i can't possibly have this "disease" called asperger's. you say i am just someone with a very high IQ that simply doesn't understand stupid people. umm momma. you just defined a symptom of asperger's. you say that "these people" are "dysfunctional" because of their issues, well momma, LOOK at ME. This IQ of mine isn't helping very much when I am in my 5th year of college and haven't graduated yet. you say that i like dealing with one person at a time and get overwhelmed when dealing with a group of people. you say that i have to stick to a strict schedule or series of rituals, and i don't. therefore i can't possibly have asperger's can i? no i guess not.

I am just imagining my sensitivity to tags, scratchy fabrics, and flourescent lights. I am just imagining that i find myself in the middle of a conversation with someone and they just edge away from me and i realize afterward that they had no interest at all of talking to me and I DID NOT NOTICE. so you can just go imagining that you have your perfect child, like you have my entire life, and I can go back to not telling you the things that hurt, including this letter.

and ritual? my ritual is change, you made sure of that momma, while i was growing up. we lived in 21 places by the time i was 21. when was i supposed to set a schedule?

because, you see, the more i research asperger's, the more i look back on my childhood, the more i go, she knew, or she at least suspected. you are an RN momma. you are the one that bought me my collection of used matchbox cars. you are the one that took down my wall of twist ties, you are the one that got rid of binkie, you are the one that when you came home and found me standing in the rain watching the trees sway would bring me back in and dry me off. i actually remember spinning around and around as a child. and you would have been fresh out of nursing school at the time i would have been doing that. (and you didn't even have to look up the name asperger's when i asked you about it on the phone)

i look back, you fought to have them place me on the anti-convulsant for the seizures when i was a baby. i needed help for this too. Now, i need it more than ever, I asked you to look into Asperger's, because i need you on board in order to go to a psych to Dx me and what do you tell me? you say to go to a counselor for stress and that you are coming up to help. well momma, i've been going to a counselor for stress, stress isn't the issue right now, and if you were worried about my stress levels right now you wouldn't come up to see me. because you are stressful.

i love you
your daughter