Awesome Asperpowers Aspergirl

My task today is to convince you that I am awesome. It shouldn't be too hard. I believe I will be able to do so. String a few witty words together. Illicit a laugh, and we're on our way. If only we could see ourselves the way others do. You see, it's not you I need to convince. It's me. Ah - the old 'it's not you, it's me.' Sadly, I have never truly believed I am awesome.

In fact, of late, I have been feeling decidedly un-awesome. That's not really a word, I know. But whatever the extreme opposite of awesome is, that is how I feel. Like a tremendous pile of poop, quite frankly. Especially after saying hello to wonderful world of panic attacks. Again. I really believed I would never go back there.  Yet here I am. Drowning.

I didn't want to write a sooky la la post. So I apologise. I hate feeling sorry for myself. Wallowing in self pity. But the reality is this. I've spent a good part of 20 years suffering from recurring vertigo and dizziness, which has mostly been dismissed by specialists as 'anxiety'. It has changed who I am as a person. I cannot leave the house without fear. I wake up and it is there. I struggle to get out of bed head spinning and nauseous.

Then, I've also struggled all my life with just about everything that would generally be considered relatively 'normal' ( I hate using that word, but couldn't think of an alternative way to explain) making friends, getting a job, being organised, communicating. All of this finally had an explanation when in 2011, at age 40, I found out that I have Asperger's Syndrome. I'm one of those females, who fell through the cracks and finally got a late, adult diagnosis.

Me, being awesome. Being 'Agnetha' actually
at the ABBAWORLD exhibition a few years ago.
Yeah, definitely should have gone with Frida, I'm
 meant to be a redhead.

Now that I have the diagnosis, I have some validation and self-awareness that I didn't before. But the daily struggles of dealing with it do not magically go away. Do I have a life threatening illness? No. Am I disabled the way somebody in a wheel chair is? No. But, just because this is something that cannot be seen by others does not mean that I don't have genuine issues and struggles. One of the hardest things about it is the level of exhaustion of 'keeping up appearances.' As detailed in  this post by Tania A. Marshall.

To add to it all, I suspect I may have unresolved anger and issues about it, (the late diagnosis) but I don't know who or what I'm angry at. Certainly not my parents who are completely wonderful and could never have had any way of knowing. I spent years going backwards and forwards to shrinks and I basically had to figure it out for myself and request a diagnosis. Then it  all seems a bit like, yes, you have it. FUCK YOU. There is no real help or support. I haven't been offered any, anyway.

Well, all I was given was some details for a support group which wasn't anywhere near where I live. I am stupidly fearful of going to an Aspergers Support Group. I have this bizarre fear that I won't even fit in with a group of Aspie's. Awkward.

Some of the online forums relating to ASD I have visited have left me with a feeling of overall gloom and hopelessness, instead of being inspiring and uplifting. I don't know if I was just reading the wrong threads and topics. One in particular was a site for children of  'Aspie' parents. It was not light reading or positive at all.  The posts were all extremely negative and about how terrible and awful it was to grow up with an 'Aspie' mother. Comforting.

I certainly hope my boys do not feel that way. I do have a lot of guilt about the way they are being raised. I can hug them and tell them I love them a billion times a day, but all of the practical things to do with parenting, I suck at. Keeping an organised, tidy home. Remembering everything that goes with having three children. Constant socialising at school and sport. The shrink who diagnosed me told me that the hugging thing is way more important, and that I should move towards an acceptance of a chaotic but loving home environment and upbringing for my boys. I'm trying to. But it's hard. I do tend to unhelpfully compare myself with others constantly.

Then, there is also the fact that as a family we have been through so much over the years, that I won't go into in detail, or this post will turn into a weepy, melodramatic saga (oh, wait.. too late). that I would defy anyone who actually does have amazing confidence and posititvity most of the time, to come out of it all unscarred.

So I am struggling. Panicking. Anxiety ridden. Exhausted, mentally and emotionally, when I read this post  also by Tania A. Marshall, yesterday. It details the traits of females with Aspergers. I don't expect you to read all of it, but the point that struck me (well. most of struck me  and I identified strongly) was number 74. This trait:

An inner resilience, strength and ability to bounce back from stress and setbacks time and time again.

And then I realised. I AM fucking awesome and I AM fucking amazing. And that is exactly why. I will pick myself up and keep going plowing on through the pile of poop, until I feel a little bit less poop like. I have done it before and I will do it again.

I am an amazing Aspergirl with my fucking amazing Asperpowers.

I AM FUCKING AWESOME.

Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I Must Confess.

Why are YOU awesome?