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Double D’s Daily Dose: You Got Aspergers

First off, I’ll give credit where credit is due. Here’s a YouTube link to MC Frontalot’s classic track of the same name off of his Secrets from the Future Album. I know I said like two blogs ago that I didn’t really like nerdcore music, but MC Frontalot’s cool. There are exceptions to everything.

Anyway, so this is the blog I promised about my psycho-analytical diagnosis that occurred two Monday’s ago. Well, it turns out I have Aspergers. I pretty much already knew I did. I’ve been telling people I had it for years actually and they’d always come back with the same thing, “Were you ever officially diagnosed?” Well, guess what, assholes? Turns out my self-diagnosis was right all along. I’m not an idiot. I can read Wikipedia too. There’s a lot more to it than just my official diagnosis though. There were also sub-diagnoses of moderate depression and anxiety (though I really don’t think I have anxiety, but I’m not about to argue with a professional) and OCD. I knew I had the depression and OCD, but they’re what make me so quirky and fun at parties.

I learned quite a bit about myself at that meeting. We did one last test and then went over the results of the tests from last time. It turns out I’m actually pretty smart, though I still assert that I’m an idiot. I ranked above average in all categories, near genius in some. The shrink actually had to move her watermark from the smart side of the page to the dumb side so she could fit all the stuff I scored well on. That doesn’t bode too well for me.

The main reason I’m getting this testing done is so I can collect disability money from the government. How disabled will I look if I’m also super smart and only have one diagnosis with three sub-diagnoses instead of two separate ones. It may take up to three reviews before I get approved. It only took my cousins one, some of them on the first try even. I doubt I’ll be that fortunate. I’m stuck in this awful middle ground. I don’t want my parents to pay for me the rest of their lives. I can’t hold down a job to save my life and I might not get the government support I need to do anything significant with my life. So… I may be stuck in a really shitty middle ground, not able to get help and not able to succeed either, for the rest of my life. Jeez, maybe I do have anxiety.

One other thing that’s interesting to note is how I think. Turns out I analyze everything so much, it’s ridiculous. I’m what you call a meta-analytical thinker. It means I think about my own thoughts. However, now that I know that, it’s caused me to think about how I think about my own thoughts and then to think about how I think about how I think about my own thoughts, etc. ad infinitum. It’s like Inception up in my brain now. It’s crazy. OK, I gotta stop thinking about this or my brain will literally explode.

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