A Mid-Forties Butch Aspie
Makes Her Way
by MindWithoutWalls
(blog originally kept at WrongPlanet.net)
The Road from Here to There - Part 2
Assessment in Progress -
The First Appointment
Composed on November 1, 2011
I set my mind to presenting myself as I usually am as much as possible, so that I could be observed accurately, and went in.
So much for what I set my mind to. I was so tightly wound that I can't imagine that the awful display I made of myself was anything other than overdone, even though I pretty much kept still and just answered the questions.
I was there for half an hour. The psychologist was polite and formal. He got right down to business. For no good reason at all, I didn't like him, and I wished I could've been evaluated by someone else, though I don't think that would've helped. I was so uncomfortable just with being there that I started off mumbling my answers. I think I got louder at some point, though not on purpose, and I hope I wasn't ever too loud. I felt worse and worse, the longer it went on. By the time I left, I could hardly wait to get out of there. I considered not ever coming back, but I made the next appointment anyway: next week, same time.
Nothing about this was really all that hard, so I have no excuse for why I was so tense. I certainly didn't care for the experience, though. The session began with the kinds of questions designed to make sure I understood what was going on. Then we got to the ones that revealed information particular to my family, friends lifestyle, and experiences. We ended with some cognitive functioning stuff. During the middle part, it felt like everything got so quickly glossed over that I began to be frustrated. Besides, I don't think I left a very good impression of some of the people in my life. It felt unfair to admit to negative interactions and various problems without getting a chance to balance any of it with more positive facts and proper context. Maybe that wouldn't have been relevant, but I felt like I was betraying people I love. But I kept on, and I let it go. Nothing was going to change the situation, so I didn't try.
I can't see how this gave much of a clear or full picture of me, and it's hard to imagine that even twice as many appointments as I was told to expect, if they're like this one, could result in a definitive answer. I was originally told it would take 3-4 visits, but it now sounds like I'll only go in once more before it's done. From the stress standpoint, that's a relief. But it's also a surprise, and I don't know what it means.
Next week, I'll go in for an IQ test. In the meantime, I have to get someone who knows me well (more than one is also okay) to fill out a questionnaire about me. I've asked my girlfriend to do it, and I've told her we can ask my sister to help, if necessary. Then this guy is going to make his decision and recommendations. My stomach knots when I think about that - both parts: decision and recommendations.
When I first got out, I didn't know what I thought yet. I wasn't quite confused, but it felt like getting hit by a bus that I turned and saw coming right before it got to me. I kind of knew what happened, but it was all so fast, and I felt like I'd been whacked and thrown into a tumble. And to think I'd walked into this on purpose! I know I was overreacting, but it really did feel like a half-hour long bus accident at that point. Bless my girlfriend! She works not far from there, and she was strolling around the building where she works, enjoying her lunch break, when I arrived to see her. I walked with her, and we talked. She was wonderful, and I felt much better by the time she had to go inside.
Who knows what the psychologist will decide is wrong with me or what he'll think should be done with me ...but I have rights, and I'm an adult. It's up to me what to do in the end. So, I'll just have to stick it out through the rest of this and see what happens. I still hate it, though. I just want to get my answer and go.
The MindWithoutWalls Asperger's Syndrome Assessment Blog:
A Mid-Forties Butch Aspie Makes Her Way
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