May 5
I'm 48.
Last week I was diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum.
So much of my life now makes sense.
The anger.
The rage.
The anxiety.
The depression.
The need to flee social situations when I didn't have a role to immerse myself in.
The obsession spirals that consume my life.
The diagnosis doesn't change who I am. Doesn't change my daily struggle to fit in.
I'm hesitant to tell anyone in my life beside my partner and my sister because I don't want to be seen as a label.
But I now know where these emotions come from. Know that these are a part of me as my arms and legs.
There is power in that knowledge. I no longer feel the shame of thinking there was something wrong with me.
It's never too late to improve yourself!
