15 June 2007
Asperger’s will either ruin or save my family.
Sadly this post would give away my identity to any family members, but I feel like I need to talk about it. The chances that they would arrive here are slim, so it’s worth it.
My parents are getting divorced. Between my dad’s lies (which I won’t go into, because I don’t know the specifics and I don’t think they’re directly related to his aspiety), my mom’s misunderstandings, and the total lack of communication between them for over twenty years, they’ve had enough. But it’s the third time it’s almost happened. I’m older this time, so I know a lot more of what’s going on (I figure out more, and they also tell me more).
And it’s a little different this time in that now mine and my dad’s Asperger’s is open to the family. I’ve known it for a long time, but he hasn’t. It was only when he read a book that my mom gave him that he was exposed to the working of his brain. She thought he might be offended when she mentioned it, but I knew better. I hadn’t talked about it much to either of them, so when she told me that, I didn’t really say what I thought. I was still being very private about it.
Yesterday my dad took my brother and I to Tastee Freez (yes, that was my brother’s choice. I know…) to talk about the whole situation. He was pretty surprised at my knowledge of what was going on (it really wasn’t that hard to grasp the jist of the arguments, even from the muffled version I can hear from my room) and my understanding of the reasons for everything. He didn’t know that I’d had a similar experience to his when he read the book. He didn’t know that I had such strong opinions about it. He probably expected to give his children a brief explanation of the unfolding events.
If I interpreted my brother’s reactions correctly, that’s exactly what he saw it as. I think he saw it as obvious information that our ignorant father was giving us, and my apparent interest in contributing was merely on account of my own ignorance. Because I’m younger. Of course, I could just be reading way too much into his tone, something which I’m bad at in the first place. But the point is that my dad and I connected on a level that we never had before. It’s interesting that before we knew about our similar conditions, we subconsciously assumed that the other just wouldn’t understand. But once we knew, the understanding, the openness of the speaking… it was incredible. Our whole impression of eachother changed in those few minutes.
I have a plan to bring my parents back together by helping them understand eachother’s brains and intentions better. I’m being a bridge between them, a role that all children have the ability to take. We are in a position where we see the whole stage and characters’ arguments, wishes, and misunderstandings. It is unbiased (in most cases. I suppose if you had an abusive parent, you wouldn’t feel that way), and the parents’ points are very transparent due to genetics. While there is much, especially in the case of marriage, that experience is needed to resolve, a whole lot of it requires simply intuition and the ability to look at the situation without skewed judgement. Children are perfect for this. Sadly for this ability to be noticed and to take effect, the child needs to take the initiative, and the parents need to be willing to hear what he/she may have to say. Luckily I am old enough and have an intimate connection with the things my dad is going through to be taken seriously.
When I talked to my mom today, I purposely brought up the subject of Asperger’s. I waited for the right time, then eased into it. I am apparently by far the expert between the three of us on all aspects of it. She took in what I was saying, occasionally unnerved by my strong opinions. She has a lot of misconceptions about autism in general, most notably shown when she said “…oh, those poor people. [etc] rocking back and forth and…” in response to the mention of severe cases. I think I made good progress, and I will keep attempting to show both of them their true feelings for one another.
The reason I have taken on this task of saving my family is not to keep my parent’s together. My brother is off to college at the end of the summer, and our existence as a nuclear family is pretty much over no matter what. Sure, I’d like them to be happy—they’re my parents. But if all that happened was a divorce, I wouldn’t really care. Since they’ve contemplated it more than once before, it’s not a shock. The real issue for me is that the combination of my brother leaving and my dad (or mom, if you look at it that way) leaving would make our moderately large suburban house unmanagable.
Selling the house. That is the true reason I want to keep my parents together. My mom lived in a bunch of houses as a kid, so I don’t think she gets it as well as my dad. The house is full of my memories. Even the cracks in the walls are of extraordinary value to me; the crayon still on the walls, the strangely hypnotic wallpaper in the bathroom, everything. When the house goes, the family is officially over. I keep acting like this is a selfish way to think, but I know it’s not. That house itself has as much meaning to me as the people in it. The contentment that we own it, that is it ours, is something I’ve never had to part with, and I imagine it wouldn’t be easy.
But alas, they are sparring quite loudly at this very moment, and it seems as if my endeavors to crack the barriers between them (and myself) may end without considerable impact.
Filed by yone at June 15th, 2007 under In My Humble Aspie Opinion, Personal Experience
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