I really haven’t written much about myself in the past few days because I’ve thought it hasn’t been worth writing. It’s like the Love and Rockets song “No New Tale to Tell.” Same crap, different day. Except for now, my moods have been very erratic.
I don’t remember if I had written about taking myself and Casey to the neuropsychologist at the end of July for testing. Casey had a full work-up of testing so we’d be able to see exactly where he is intellectually, and on the autism spectrum as well. For myself, well, I wanted to know exactly what the hell is wrong with me. Is it bipolar, just depression, or something else?
I received the results last week, and I’ve been in a downward Kamikaze nosedive ever since. I am not nosediving about Casey; it’s about my results, just further proving what a total fuck up I am.
It is now official that Casey has Asperger’s Syndrome. He also has issues with anxiety and nervousness. His IQ measured at 117. The neuropsych. doc said that this score is 3 points away from being labeled “gifted”. Some of his auditory testing showed some red flags, so we will need to watch him on this.
Coincidentally, Casey and I both took the same auditory test. Ironically, we both scored very similar on it as well. The doc said that with me, too much auditory input makes me crash.
Actually, let me back up on the whole results meeting. We discussed Casey first because he was the “easier one to explain”. Then when it came to me, the doc looked at me, and said “you’re a mess.” He was quite blunt with my results and his interpretation on me. I did cry at a few points because he was so spot-on with his interpretations.
He said that I am in a spin cycle. I keep spinning and spinning, and if I keep this up, I will end up being suicidal again. I have lost who I am (this is very much true), I don’t seek out friends (again, very much true) because I don’t think anyone will like me if I’m not the “expert”. I am incredibly isolated, alone, and very stressed out with having two children with special needs. He even said he didn’t want to be in my shoes with having two kids with special needs.
He also did say that I had to get out and try to get back into life again. He said that I have “spunk and pizazz” in my personality, but it’s been lost over the years. I need to have friends again. I need to get back into my hobbies again, and “I don’t give a shit if it’s too hard to do it” (his words). Did I mention how he didn’t mince words?
Herein lies the problem: I don’t see any value in myself. I don’t love myself. The only two reasons why I am keeping myself alive are my boys. I started to feel suicidal today, and I looked over at the boys, and I snapped myself out of it. I’m back at the crossroads of introversion and extroversion; of testing my limits to see how far I can go, or staying at the boundary.