Do you have one person who understands you?

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Nope, not really.
Maybe my younger sister is better at listening and more tolerant than the rest of the family but generally, I'm just "the weirdo".

I'm much older than most of you all it appears... I'll be 69 this spring. But that said, my whole life it has seemed that "people" can't hear me. Their eyes glaze over when words start coming out of my face. My father, an Air Force officer, sometimes seemed deaf to words that I spoke, and he wouldn't even respond to things I said to him. Years later, when I heard my own voice on a recorder, I was shocked at how soft and dull my voice sounded.

Where I did best with others was in playing games. I could understand the rules, and the 'language' of the game, and so communicate well with others on the field, or over the game board. But in 'real life' I was never able to defend my position and ideas with words, and gestures, and facial expressions... and so I have NEVER been considered a player.

So no. No one understood me in sixty-nine years that's for sure. I made/make other people anxious. My mannerisms, posture, voice, odor, clothes, appearance, vibe, some combo of my presence, were and are a big turn-off for normal folk. But then perhaps some people did understand me, but they just didn't give a damn.

No, not really. I long for this.

I'm just beginning to understand myself for who I am. Asperger's is really just one part of this complicated mess I tend to be.

I can say for certainty my parents don't, and often they think they do which is annoying. They're too narrow-minded to accept me when I explain myself to them. Basically, "living with parents" BS, can't wait to get out.

My few remaining friends (whom I still do not stay in contact that well with) understand me more than my parents do, but their thought process and perceptions generally aren't too different from my parents, so if there's something my parents criticize me for, they're possibly likely to as well.

Essentially I need to find new friends and stop looking amongst "normal people" for them, and ditch my parents house.

By the time I was nine years old, I had accepted that no one would ever really understand me. As I got older, I understood myself less, and then more (after diagnosis).

The people who get the closest are firstly my next-youngest sister. She knew me from the time I was five, and saw my behavior as odd, but she thought I was the most awesome older sister ever and that everything I did was great because I did it. We went though some really rough times when she was a teen and I was in my early 20's. This was mostly due to my lack of affect, flat voice, bald statements like "I am sorry that happened to you." She felt like I didn't care about her. After diagnosis, it was like a revolution in our relationship. I can tell her anything about ME. It's HER we can't talk about (lol!).

The other person is becoming my boyfriend. We have known each other for three years and been together for one. He is the first person I have been completely open and honest about Asperger's from the beginning. He is also the only person with the patience and acceptance I have met that I have been willing to be so vulnerable with. It's funny, he and I are very different but we gel very well. I am a visual thinker, very organized, and he is an intuitive thinker, VERY chaotic. I help him remember everything he has to do and throw things away for him (he has a problem with hoarding). He offers transportation and helps me take my clothes off when I am overloaded and the dyspraxia's bad. It also helps that he has a very high IQ, loves cats and dislikes children, is a nocturnal hermit, and reads as constantly as I do.

I thought I did

Honestly, I'm not sure though, I suppose there is...

I can relate to you. My boyfriend is that one person for me. Our foundation is built on honesty and I'm very verbal so he knows what I'm thinking all the time (probably more than he wants to, lol). I do not usually say how I am feeling because I never really know, but I describe the physical sensations of an emotion, and he thinks about what I'm saying is causing it, and can figure it out. I can be myself and he never judges me or ridicules me for having meltdowns. It makes me feel safe and loved. The high IQ does help, as well as explaining many NT things to me when I am confused. His calm, stable personality is a major plus. He has also helped me undress or whatever else I needed when I am unable to function. He has some sensory issues and is ADD so he understands some of what I go through. I help to keep him organized. It works well

It looks like we are lucky, as many others feel they do not have anyone

I don't understand me, how can there be anyone else that does?

My wife accepts me, but that is a different thing entirely.

I think that's really nice and it must make things so much easier for you.
Sigh. One day I might find the same thing; one day...

There are very few people the Republic of C-Land (my imaginary world), we grant visas to. My Mormon spritual Aunt. (I granted her this title), my security blanket, (who takes many roles such as my imaginary little sister (I have a real half sister, but she's just a kid still), wife, my cat. and I talk to it. Ron my dead friend (real friend. He was the only one who truly or most closely saw what was inside my heart and head. He was Sczhiophrenic and bi polar, and had a collection of guns as he fancied himself a modern day rebel. He was actually one of the most gifted minds the world will ever see, but never had the chance to utlize it. :_(.

My ex-sister in law Clairebear, although not autistic, she had family members who were. She really helped me come out of my "Embassy" compound. (I'm more reclusive than Kim Jong Il, or these mysterious Chinese Communists leaders I keep hearing about), or the Emperior of Japan, or as mysterious as the Olympic Village). She called me "Spacey Casey", and called me a "good Alien" (like on of those peaceful ones that help out the world, and is cute and cuddly). Wish she didn't break up with my brother. I was one of the rare ones who was accepted as a family member to their cabin, seeing that her dad is a Aspie, who hates the city, and enjoys nature....

These are the very rare people who'll actually ever see the insides of this crazy country that's in rebuilding transition.

I have 2 friends who understand me. One of them is a close friend aspergers and the other one is my best friend and he is very aware and understanding of my aspergers.

People might think they understand me, and I might even believe they do sometimes. But do they really? The answer is no, it's impossible.

The only way to understand anybody completely is to have an exactly equally built brain which has experienced exactly the same things from the exact same perspectives throughout it's entire time in existence. Or the short hand version: You have to actually be the person you're supposed to understand - which is impossible unless you're trying to understand yourself. The search for complete understanding is thus futile and will only lead to misery and depressions.

It is however possible to arrive at a level where the mere individual perception of each other's state of mind - as measured through communication - seems to fit one's own and where the real distinctions are camouflaged by the applied communication's simplicities, or the lessened ability to discern between reality and fantasy. The latter point may traditionally be attributed to madness, but is in fact a property of everybody. Nobody is able to define the "realness" of absolutely all entities conceivable, so the ability to discern between reality and fantasy is always less than perfect - just in various degrees, depending on level of knowledge or experience.

So: The less experienced you are, the more likely you are to conclude that somebody understands you or vice versa.

My wife

She is the ONLY one, and is also the one who added up all the issues and symptoms, and formed the hypothesis which led to my diagnosis of Asperger's. I have other friends who know me well, but they just take for granted that I'm "a little different"; not necessarily fully understanding me.

Charles

I had a few up until now.

I had a special ed teacher for four years who "knows" children and knows how to communicate with them - no matter what.
Father who is just like me.
My counselor.
My previous mental health care worker.

I learned to explain myself pretty well over the last few years, it makes me less depended .

Nope