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I Don’t Want It Anymore.

A quick post on my phone because my wifi’s down. Hopefully it won’t take too much of my data.

So I talked about autism in a previous post. I hope I was clear in saying that I have not been diagnosed, but it was suspected of me in the past.

A while ago I decided to just accept the label rather than staying in this weirdo limbo, just to make things easier for myself so I can explain myself better and why I do certain things.

But now I’ve decided I want to drop the label for good and not even bother fighting for a diagnosis or anything. I don’t even want to diagnose what problem I have. Even though I have truly believed I wad autistic, I’ve still felt guilty ever since. This is a medical condition and I don’t want to appropriate the label any further, just in case I’m not autistic.

The pressure and the guilt is too much and I feel I’m too set on finding some diagnosis that just describes all my problems neatly. Autism, at the time, was the best thing that described what I was going through, but I guess the human brain isn’t so simple. It could be a combination of things interacting with each other. Either way, I’m going to stop looking for diagnoses and problems and just focus on how I can fix them.

I think it’s gotten to the point where I’mjust so desperate to find out what’s wrong that I’ve mixed things up in my mind and now believe my main objective is getting some kind of diagnosis. Any kind of diagnosis. It makes me feel terrible. I’m almost worried I’m doing it for attention. I don’t think I am, but it’s possible. Why else would getting diagnosed be so important.

I never mentioned this, and for good reason because of this whole autism thing, but I went for a dyslexia (and dyspraxia) assessment. I’ve considered dyslexia because I’ve always had problems in the reading department, but it turns out that I’m not dyslexic (or dyspraxic) I just process things slowly and have a poor working memory (which, to be honest, I already knew. I spoke to my old therapist about this, but I guess it’s nice to know for sure)

I only considered dyslexia because Grace had recently been diagnosed and I figured, hey she reads faster than me and she got good grades also so maybe it’s not an impossiblilty.

Maybe I was a bit jealous that she got a diagnosis, or maybe that she found out the cause of her own problems. Whereas I have no answers and I’m still in the dark. Just a bunch of maybes and guesses and I’m just trying to find out and coming up dry.

But, to be quite honest, I wasn’t that sold on me being dyslexic. I actually did some more research and found something else thste fits me maybe even more than autism. I won’t say it, because I’ve decided to drop all of this. I don’t want to rekindle this fire, right when I’ve got it to burnout.

Hopefully for good.

I’m just done with this. People keep telling me what I’m not, but no one tells me what I am. I can’t even see my GP about it because she’ll just dismiss me.

I guess in her eyes I’m just hysterical.

Maybe I am.

And I hate that I’m like this. I really do.

And I’m extremely sorry for ever taking the autistic label because I feel absolutely shitty about it. I just really thought I was autistic. I still don’t know, and I probably never will.

I want to know so bad what is up with me, but I just don’t think I’ll ever find out.
And it sucks because I have no explanation for the way I act, and I’m always going to feel guilty about not acting normal. People are going to tell me, ‘just act like this.’ and I’ll tell them I can’t and they’ll ask me why and I’ll tell them ‘I don’t know.’ Like I’ve been saying for so many years now.

Maybe I’m just not trying hard enough.

But is it really supposed to be this hard???

~Peanut

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