Seeking an adult diagnosis

It’s official. I have Asperger’s.


It was pretty anticlimactic in the end… a letter in the post summarising the doctor’s observations and concluding with the words “I feel that a diagnosis of an Autism Spectrum Disorder, on the milder end of the spectrum, is justified”. This landed on the doormat back in June. It’s taken me quite some time to sit down and share this with you, partly because it can take me a while to process new information, work out how I feel about it and put my thoughts into anything like adequate words.

So, this is how I feel about my Asperger’s diagnosis…

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Why my initial psych assessment feels like a bad job interview


Last week I had my initial assessment with the psych team at the clinic. Quite a few people have asked me how it went, and I meant to post this much sooner, but it’s taken me a while to process my thoughts and feelings about it. And I can’t tell you yet whether I’m going to get a diagnosis, because this was just round two (round one: getting past my GP). I am now playing a waiting game to see whether I get to play in round three.

So what’s it like being assessed by a mental health team? A bit like being in one of my psychotherapy sessions, but with two counsellors instead of one. And they’re both complete strangers to me. Oh, and this time, it’s, like, a test…

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Why I want to stick a label on it


I am overwhelmed by the response to my first post here. Your words have been encouraging, supportive, intelligent, full of praise (which I feel I don’t half deserve) and candour. Some of you have told me that you don’t know much about Asperger’s, but would like to learn (thank you for your open minded honesty). Some of you have said that you would never have guessed, and that my disclosure will not change the way you see me (I can’t help but think that it must, on some level). Lots of you have said my words are inspiring. All of you have called me brave (although when someone is strongly compelled to do something, as I was to share this blog, I’m not sure that brave is the right word exactly. But thanks).

And there have been some who have challenged my decision to pursue a diagnosis. (I am still the same person; I’m a lovely person with lots of great qualities; we all have our differences, our quirks and eccentricities; what’s the use of labelling myself? It won’t change anything at this stage. And if I fail to get a diagnosis won’t I just feel even worse?)

So, why do I want a formal diagnosis?

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My dirty little secret (okay, not really, but I got your attention…!)


I have a secret.

A few people (a very few) already know. If you’re reading this post you are now one of them. (And if this comes totally out of left field, please don’t be too hard on me for not telling you. As I write these words only a handful of people in my life already know this about me. And I didn’t necessarily choose them based on closeness of relationship.)

Just so you know, this is pretty terrifying for me. I’m not very good at sharing. It took me until I was 32 to come out to my parents; here’s hoping that this will be just as anti-climactic.

So, this is it: I have Asperger’s. This may come as a great surprise to you, or it may be one of those “Oh, so that’s why… [insert weird/ill-mannered/inexplicable thing I once did/said here]” moments.

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