Hi Terry,

Thank you for trusting all of us enough to discuss your experiences with us. I'm sorry you had such a rough time growing up, and also sorry that parts of the story brought back painful memories.

FWIW, although I have never officially had a label put on me, I *strongly* suspect I have Asperger's Syndrome myself. I know what you mean about small talk; I'd rather have my wisdom teeth yanked again than be put in a party situation with strangers and have to make conversation. Under the best of circumstances it is difficult, but when you throw in the sensory overload of all the competing conversations (not to mention the music that is often played too loudly, the claustrophobia that to me is inherent in crowds, all the movement, the stench of perfumes and possibly alcohol, etc.), I find such situations utter agony.

I, too, tend to misread social cues; I find it a lot easier to communicate online: Emoticons are a lot clearer than subtle facial movements or slight changes in intonation, not to mention that one has the luxury of processing at one's own pace what is written. Although I "get" sarcasm, figurative speech, etc. in person, it usually takes me a little longer than most people to process what is meant, since I first have to figure out and subsequently reject the literal meaning.

I recall with loathing my public school days. When I was a high school senior, for example, I learned to scarf down my lunch while walking in the hallway, and then to spend the rest of the lunch hour in the library, because if I went into the lunchroom, no matter what table I sat at, the result would be the same: The kids there would ask me if I *had* to sit there, if I couldn't go somewhere else. Then, after possibly teasing me for a few minutes, they would completely ignore me and talk amongst themselves. It happened ever single day I tried to eat in the cafeteria.

One of the things that draws me to Lois & Clark so much is the theme of the alien trying to pass himself off as human, and the pain and stress he experiences even when he seems to the outside world to be fitting in. I can relate. I can do a reasonable job of passing myself off as neurotypical, at least in short-term casual interactions, but the emotional and psychological toll it takes is high, and I find such social interactions stressful. It's ridiculous, I know, but I still get nervous doing something as simple as ordering food in a restaurant or speaking with a bank teller.

My high school had "senior superlatives," such as "most likely to succeed," or "best sense of humour." I won one such 'award': Most unique. I chose to take it as a compliment, but I know that it was intended as an insult. I was very much the 'oddball.' It was only decades later, after Andy was diagnosed and I started reading about autism, that I started to realize that all my oddities seemed to fall into place.

As I said, I haven't gone through the hoops necessary to get an official diagnosis, and I do manage to hold down a job (admittedly, I chose two fields that are highly structured -- computers and teaching), but I continue to struggle with areas that involve flexibility and non-structured social interactions.

If you ask anyone for whom I have beta read, they could tell you that my questions of their stories indicate that I often am unable to read between the lines in ways that other readers can. When I am just reading a story 'for fun,' I tend to fill in the blanks as best I can and let it go at that, but when I BR, I tend to ask the authors when I don't understand something, since I'm not sure whether the lack of understanding is just me or whether it is because the passage needs to be elaborated upon.

I've sometimes considered getting an official diagnosis, but I just don't have the time to do something like that at this stage in my life, since getting the label might satisfy my curiosity but probably would not yield any other benefits.

So if (childhood) misery loves company, may I join you? Too bad we didn't go to the same school; we might have wound up keeping each other company.

I hope your kidney infection clears up soon.

Thanks again for your post.

Joy,
Lynn

p.s., It sounds like you did indeed give hope to the lady behind the counter. I hope her daughter and son-in-law can put their denial behind them and get their son whatever help he needs.