I promised ages ago to blog about honesty. I had a draft that was all over the place, then my tooth infection flared up and I couldn't do much anything for some weeks (see my previous entry), and now I can't find the draft. Oh well, I'll just start typing and see where I end up.

First I'll link to one of the most beautiful songs I know, I have it on repeat as I write.

Serge Gainsbourg - Variations Sur Marilou. (with English subtitles)

I've been seeing my psychiatrist and will see him again next week. He's ruling out things I don't have (not bipolar, not ADHD), while I do have anxiety and depression symptoms (though I'm improving steadily), and it's becoming more and more likely that I'll be getting my Asperger diagnosis soon. For starters, it certainly couldn't be ruled out, and he wants to have more talks with me about it and what exactly I'll do with the official diagnosis, and what kind of further help to get for getting over things from my childhood and past, including all the damage religion has done.

It'll be one kind of official end of me pretending to be something I really am not because I'm not "officially" anything else. And that feels good. It sucks to be in the grey, unsure area, even though for years I thought it was best for me, a way to hide, something I deserved and should be able to live with. No official paper saying anywhere that there's anything "wrong" with me, no stamp in my forehead, no "cheap excuse" for failing other than that I wasn't trying enough.

Except that why did I lie to myself? I'm not like everyone else, I struggle to do things others do naturally, and vice versa - some things are natural to me that others just can't do.

So many years set myself up for failure in situations designed for them - the ones who were, in fact, unlike me. In some screwed up way thought I deserved all the failing I could invite to my life.

It's not okay. It's a waste of time, a waste of a life. I'm okay as me, with my quirks and illnesses and all, and I deserve to have my problems dealt with and I deserve to have accommodations so that I have the same opportunities to use my abilities as other people do.

The diagnosis is no escape for me from the eye contact and small talk rules and such that you just have to do to get along with people (in fact I deeply despise the people who think it is, and speak about "it's us vs. them" and "i'm not joining in their stupid weather talk" in group meetings), but I think it'll make a lot of difference when I study, work and seek support. Some employers are already positive about hiring Asperger people to do things that are considered boring by most people and need obsessive hyper-focusing, haha.

Anyway, that's it about that kind of honesty.

There was another subject that came to mind about honesty.

I'm a people pleaser to a fault. I'm not talking about making compromises with some of what I want and some of what you want; rather it's almost as though I have a phobia of having people disappointed in me, so I lie that I like the same things they do, that I prefer their ideas over mine any day, that devoting my time to them is more important than whatever else I had on my mind about doing.

Emphasis on the I LIE. I am typing that out just so it's also there for my own eyes to see. It's a lie and I need to stop doing it.

It's ridiculous.

I used to have many different sets of clothing just so I could dress differently for everyone I met, according to their tastes. I used to not tell most people what CDs I really listened to at home because I was sure I'd be met with criticism that I didn't want to hear. I don't do those things anymore, at least - it's been incredibly liberating to wear just what I want, actually, without standing in front of a mirror looking at myself, trying to see myself with the eyes of my friends, trying to decide whether they would think I'm stylish enough for their tastes. And it's not that I want to wear revealing clothing or anything particularly shocking. Lately I've really been into pink and retro floral print, genuine silk, leather and handmade knitwear. As for the music, well, it's just no problem anymore; I've figured out that the people who have a huge negative reaction to my CDs are the ones with the problem. It's just art, darnit, it's not a matter to get so worked up over.

Also, running around doing errands for everyone else so much that my own studies or hobbies suffer is not okay. It IS okay to say that I don't have the time instantly. It IS okay to say I really need to study or rest. Other people say those things to me all the time and I'm not offended. Yes, I am talking to myself.

Okay, this is going in a direction I didn't really think it would go. Umh. If I ever find my draft again, I'll see just what I meant to write there.

On a completely different note, it's really funny what kind of things you can lose, miss sorely, and then get back. Like, eating solid food. I can eat normally again, and it's great, really great - but the first time doing it after my visit to the dentist last week was amazing. For once I think it rings true with me that what didn't kill me made me stronger right away, because I'm actually looking forward to having the rest of my teeth taken care of, and to seeing whether I even have the dentist phobia anymore after the shock treatment that actually saved my life.

Speaking of which I still haven't sent the dentist a thank-you card. I must get around to it.