It is no wonder that I had tears of relief, to find out, finally, the truth - to discover an explanation, a diagnosis that explained not one or two of my symptoms or behaviours but ALL of them. Finally, someone saw me

I had no one. No one to talk to, at least that is how I felt. No one to hold on to, or who would hold tightly back. No one to tell me everything was going to be alright. No one to say, yes, me too, I know how you feel - No one.

Beyond being normal, our obsessions are positive, empowering and absolutely necessary. What some may view as obsessive, odd, weird, abnormal and troublesome is a necessary part of our happiness. Our interests allow us to decompress, calm down, focus our energy, and gives us a reason to be excited about life - a purpose. An absence of obsessive interest leaves me feeling alone in the darkness.

My colors ran all over the page, poured out of the lines and meshed together to form colors no one had yet recognized. I was different–unique, bold, strong, smart, and hard-headed. I was simply me.

I have Asperger's Syndrome. I am an Aspergirl, I am a mom, I am a wife, and I am an individual who sees things in a unique way. I am just like you, only different because I am me.

I can focus for hours on end reading, writing, or playing poker. The rest of the world disappears; I can forget it exists. It calms me, and the stress melts away. When I'm focused on one of my interests, I lose track of time, forget to eat, and am annoyed at even the interruption of needing to use the bathroom.

I used to feel special, different and wonderful when I was very young, before the world showed me that everything I thought, said, or did was wrong. I lived in the blissfulness of youth without knowing how the world would not except me.