I was born with Asperger’s so that I had markedly different ideas and behaviours from the average girl,
In my book,
Unforgiving, Memoir of an Asperger’s Teen, I talk about how frustrating it was, growing up in the 60’s when the syndrome was unknown. I spent my whole life hearing that what I said or thought or how I reacted to situations was ‘wrong’. And maybe it was.
When I married Chris, we had problems, the same, I like to think, as any other couple.
I worried about saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing. Being the wrong person.
Even more so, now that his health is so fragile.
I’m sure others caring for their loved ones must feel the same, Asperger’s or not.
But that out-spokeness is helpful at times, too. Sometimes it is exactly what the situation calls for. I can face these times. I want to
know. I ask questions, probe, push a little. Sometimes a lot. So people look at me like
Where do you get the nerve? That’s okay. People have looked at me like that all my life. I need answers. Chris needs answers. I’m willing to stick my neck out to get them.
It’s loving him that kills me.
I remember when he had his first heart attack twenty years ago, I was scared stiff. Scared he’d die when he had so much to live for. Scared I’d be without him.
I kept telling myself,
If I can just get him home, just be in bed beside him again tonight, everything will be all right. It hasn’t been perfect. We’ve had our ups and downs. But even with this final blow, we’re still together. Thirty years and counting. Still happy to see each other.
And, Asperger’s or not, snuggling together at night is still the very best part of my day.
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This Caregiver’s Journal began in August of 2014. Although the first blog article was actually written on New Year’s Day, 2015, the rest are in chronological order from August 5th, 2014. What is written here has gone before.