Trying to figure out AS

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Dear X,

It has been a while since I last wrote in this book. I was just looking back through its pages and thinking about what a contrast my life is now, compared to last year. I have left teaching, and am studying for a Masters degree in composition. I don't think I ever made a better choice in my life.

There are things that I have recently started considering that I may eventually tell you. These are things that not many people know about me, but would act as an explanation for why I behave in a certain way sometimes. To be truthful, I avoid mentioning this out of fear of being perceived within its context. However, I believe I can tell you this and you would still see me as the same girl.

I want to talk about AS. I find myself refusing to write down its full name because doing so would make it real. But I suppose it is necessary to tell you the full name so that you understand. Its name is Aspergers Syndrome.

When I was a child, I was different in certain ways. I won't go into detail about specific differences, but they eventually led to me being diagnosed with AS. I remember being angry at the time. I felt singled out by the adults as the different girl. Without my consent, I had a label slapped on me, and was forced to wear it for the rest of my time in primary school. They put 'support' in place, not that it helped because all it did was make me feel like I wasn't good enough to be normal like everyone else.

Once I left primary school, and moved to secondary, I decided to take back control. I begged and pleaded with my parents to not tell my new school about AS. I just wanted a chance to be normal. So I went through secondary school without any support. I got by alright. I was still very introverted and kept to myself and didn't have many friends, but I didn't have a horrible time.

Then, at some point during secondary school, I stopped believing in my diagnosis. By this point I had done a lot of research on the subject, and knew exactly what the signs and symptoms were. Many of them (in my opinion) did not match up. I was perfectly apt at determining social cues; I was able to understand sarcasm; I was not obsessed with routines and rituals.

As a result, I became angry. I felt as though people had taken my personality traits, determined that they were not good enough and decided this must mean I have a condition. Never mind that I was a child and that all children have yet to learn these things. Never mind that many of the things that supposedly gave me AS were mere personality traits - introversion; highly passionate about certain subjects; deep thinker. What was wrong with any of those things?

Around 6th form and beyond, I began to direct this anger. Specifically, it affected my relationship with my mum. In my mind, it was her fault for doing this to me. I often thought that, if only she hadn't been so hell-bent on finding out what was 'wrong' with me, I might have stood a chance of being 'normal'. But because I was told I was different from a young age, I grew up living up to that expectation. If anything, a diagnosis made me more different than I needed to be.

We sometimes had arguments about it. Whenever I failed to live up to her expectations, she would pull out the AS card and tell me I had to accept it. In return, I would yell at her to leave me alone. I was positive that I was right, and adamant that I would not be associated with that label.

Only towards the end of my undergraduate degree did I begin to notice some fundamental differences between myself and other people. In preparation for leaving university, most people were busy planning for the future. They all seemed to have a clear idea of what they wanted to do afterwards. However, I dreaded the future. I had no idea what I wanted to do; no idea what steps to take; and froze. Inside, I started carrying a lot of turmoil, knowing that I was letting people down by not sorting my life out. People pressured me for information, wanting to know what was next, and I had no answers. The idea of entering the real world seemed frightening and overwhelming. In the end I half-heartedly went along with a suggestion by my mum - to return to Kuala Lumpur and get some experience working in a school there. I agreed so that she would stop pressuring me, and so that the decision of what to do with my life was no longer hanging over my head.

That year in KL drew my attention back to AS. For two days a week, I worked at the school. The rest of the time, I felt isolated and alone. In spite of having time on my hands, I failed to go out and make friends and establish a life for myself. Mostly, I spent my time at home, alone, and quickly realised I needed a way to go back to England. So I applied for a PGCE.

Was it what I wanted? Not really, but I didn't allow myself to acknowledge it then. At the time it was a way forward, a way of getting back to England and re-establish my life there. It wasn't perfect, and wasn't my dream job, but at least it was stability and direction. Little did I know what it would end up doing to me.

I'll admit; I did wonder if AS (whether I had it or not) would have an impact on me doing a PGCE. Maybe I should have heeded the warning in the pit of my stomach, the niggling anxiety that something about this didn't feel right. I thought I was just nervous, but deep down I knew I was only doing it because I didn't know what else to do, and was too afraid to pursue what I really wanted.

Of course, I should have known better than to ignore a gut feeling, especially since mine are nearly always 100% correct. My PGCE year - and subsequently my NQT year - was a living nightmare, and it was during these years, as everything got more dark and depressing, that AS came to the forefront. The fact that things weren't working out seemed to be down to little more than my personality (as opposed to the amount of effort I was putting in). No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to get the hang of it, and eventually concluded that it must be because I had some fundamental fault that disallowed me to be able to do things in the same way as other people. I asked myself if AS could be an adequate explanation for what I was going through, or if I was really just making excuses for my failures. These thoughts continued throughout my two years of teaching. I still wonder about it to this day.

Now I am in a much better place, but am also left with questions. Should I have denied my diagnosis? Might it have been more beneficial to be open about it? The reason I don't tell people is because I do not wish to be perceived within its context. The problem with the label is that people use it to justify everything. If I act in a certain way, it's 'because' I have AS, and not because it's who I am as a person. I have no desire to be seen as a person 'with' something, as I am a whole human being like everyone else.

Regardless, I wonder what would have happened if I'd chosen to open up. Is it possible that I could have remained in teaching a while longer if only they'd known about it? I will never know the answer. What I do know is that I still sometimes find myself feeling overwhelmed by life, and wondering if it's AS at play.

Gossip Girl

I also felt in high school that my behavior was pathologized and made a disorder and I didn't feel there was anything wrong with me.