I’ve spent a few dozen nights under the stars, as a fisherman in Alaska and an avid camper in all sorts of places. One thing I’ve learned is that spending a long cold night outside makes you appreciate dawn all the more. So too, a season of desperation makes an Asperger’s diagnosis feel like a welcome sunrise breaking over the horizon.
Through a combination of poor planning and excessive ambition, I have hiked, boated, biked and driven into the dark before making camp. I love waking up to see the campsite and scenery for the first time. Discovering Asperger’s felt just like that for me. I’d been living at Camp Asperger’s for years but couldn’t see the scenery.
When we with Asperger’s discover our diagnosis, we experience relief, satisfaction, and a perverse sense of vindication. We’d known for a while that we were different, but now we know why and how. Ahhh and Aha! We are ushered into a community of social nomads, and escape from the wasteland of arbitrary anxiety. Dawn rocks.
(So much of the stage of dawn is personal and emotional, I’m going to complete this blog in the first person plural. Please indulge me—I know I don't speak for all Aspies—and let me come back around to a more detached voice another time.)
By the light of our Asperger’s revelation, we start to read. We read people. We read books. We read blogs. We discover that our Asperger’s family has wise parents, Eddie Haskel-like self-promoters, celebrities, and a planetary reach—even if it is the wrong planet. We read wiki’s and forums and discussion boards galore. Some of us tweet. And retweet (please). There’s a very good chance that most of the people finding this site through a search engine are living in the dawn. To some of us, discovering Asperger’s is like finding out that there are others who speak the language we thought we’d made up. It is like grieving the loss of our twin speech sibling (See the movie Nell if you don’t get this reference) and then finding out we are really triplets or quadruplets or more! Dawn rocks again.
I don’t know how this works exactly, but the dawn of Asperger’s is a simultaneous offloading—of the imposed labels of “freak” and “oddball”—while shouldering the mantle of Asperger’s. We Aspies may be different, but we are not alone. We are not the only one. We are a I.
(Five For Fighting - 100 Years)
The dawn of Asperger’s awareness is a curious place for Johari’s window. What was blind to us moves decisively and dramatically into the public arena. Then, we slide a bit of that information into the hidden pane. We learn that we are Asperger, and some of what that means. But we also learn that some of our nature is best kept to ourselves. We look around the community of Aspies and see a few relatives we might rather keep secret.
At the same time, we find out that there are other Aspies, parents, teachers, and friends who have been waiting to welcome and support us. By discovering Asperger’s and stepping into the public realm, we gain access to all sorts of communities, support groups, connections and resources. (Check the right sidebar) By the light of the dawn, we feel better and more optimistic. Dawn connects us to others. Dawn rocks; and dawn rolls on.
Knowing we cannot be banished to solitude ever again helps us feel better about ourselves. Both we with Asperger’s and the parents who love us feel better about ourselves. We should. Dawn is a needed respite in the stages of awareness. Breathe deeply and relax. Dawn is great, but dark days follow. In a way, the sun slips back below the horizon and all that is found seems lost again. Before midday, darkness will eclipse the dawn.
_________________________More insights from the Asperger's Expert are on the main page.
