S.O.S.

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Help me.

Those words are difficult to say out loud. Actually, they are easy to say. It just isn’t easy to say them to another human being. The funny thing is those words only have meaning when spoken to another human being. You see the dilemma, right?

I never gave much thought to behavioral disorders until I was sitting across from the psychologist my mother brought me to see. She went first. I don’t know what was discussed. Probably some embarrassing stories from my childhood I can’t even remember. My turn to talk didn’t stand out to me. Just some boring questions about my interests. They made me fill out a bubble sheet asking me if I preferred being alone or with friends. Maybe it was the bubble sheet that did me in?

Getting the proper diagnosis is intended to be the first step in “recovery.” No treatment has been prescribed for me, so far. Doctors are supposed to cure people, right? The question is whether psychologists have ever come up with a plan for after the diagnosis of Asperger Syndrome.

I have always wondered what my mother meant by “getting the help I need.” I liked my life. Video games were fun, women were cute, and religion was fascinating. I wouldn’t have changed a thing. However, some changes needed to be made apparently. My mother must have noticed something wrong with me. I certainly didn’t come to her with any feelings of self-doubt. What child asks their parents to “fix” them?

Some things I wish I could fix were things I didn’t want help with. It would be sweet to have people notice me. Having someone to talk to would be heavenly. Spending time with another human being would blow my mind. The problem is you’re not allowed to ask for these things. Having to ask for it defeats the purpose.

Parents will try to help whether you ask for it or not. I never read one word of the self-help books my mother suggested to me. They’re still gathering dust on the shelf. They seemed so foreign to me. One was on the struggles of a mother trying to understand her Asperger diagnosed kid. Another delved into human behavior and how we come off to each other. None of them gave me what I truly wanted; a hug.

I could easily get hugs. I could ask for one and my friends would comply. I’d then receive a nice quick embrace. And it would have an end. Not exactly what I had hoped for.

Psychologists work to help people with their individual behavioral disorders. They can allow a person to recognize their own shortcomings, counsel them on how to overcome feelings of inadequacy, or simply just listen to a person’s situation. Many people have benefited from their involvement. But there are different kinds of help. Doctors only get paid to do so much.

The needs of a boy with Asperger Syndrome are quite simple to understand. He needs what the other kids got. He needs to be picked first for something. He needs to be the best at something. He needs people to be jealous of him. He needs to matter to someone.

The help we need the most cannot be of our own design or creation. Another party must be involved. How can one overcome a social disorder without anyone to be social with? Seeking help may be the first step to recovery, but it is the help seeking us that makes all the difference.

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2 thoughts on “S.O.S.

  1. Your posts are hitting home, especially this one. My son is a 13yr old Aspie who is amazing! I feel like I am learning about him through your posts. Don’t stop =)

  2. Agreed. As an Aspie, it’s a little odd asking for help with the very quirks that strengths that enrich my life and also weaknesses that make life difficult and occasionally heartbreaking. I want help but I don’t want help. Through all of this it’s just nice to have a couple supportive people that understand.

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