The truth about Asperger’s Syndrome that nobody wants to hear
A word of warning before we proceed. This piece might ruffle a few feathers. I’ve noticed that happens a lot when I tell the truth. My mother is a sociopath. “Nu-uhh! She’s always very nice to me!” And Ex Number One is an emotionally abusive porn addict. “He can’t be! You must have done something to provoke him.”
But I’ve really done it this time. I’ve trampled ground that has recently been dedicated as sacred and holy. I’ve described what it was like to attempt a healthy relationship with someone on the autistic spectrum. And it’s not pretty. “You can’t say such horrible things about him! He can’t help it!” Maybe not, but his inability to function within the structure of normal adult behavior doesn’t require me to put up with his (ahem) eccentricities.
As a rule, I don’t throw pity parties for people who have injured me, intentionally or otherwise. My reason is very simple. From the sharp end of the stick he stabbed me with, his motivation was a moot point. Whether he “meant to” or “knew what he was doing,” or not, the wounds he inflicted still hurt. They still left me bleeding, and in serious need of medical attention. Too, his motivation was not my fault, or my responsibility to fix. Nor was it an excuse to let him get away with poor behavior.
