Kiểm tra tính cách Method to My Madness: The Life of a Teenage Aspergian

dragonsmemory posted on May 23, 2012 at 10:44PM
It's only been a couple weeks since I learned that I am an Aspergian. The knowledge hasn't really changed my perspective on myself very much, but it has changed my perspective on my relationship to the world.
Many famous geniuses can lay claim to being Aspergians. Isacc Asimov. Bill Gates. Albert Einstein. And many others. Aspergians are the minority of human population. As a result, we're seen as different, even disabled, by the majority of the world. Yet the quirks in our minds that make us Aspergians allow all sorts of discoveries to be made.
Follow me, Johanna Glass, as I tell my story, the story of a teenage Aspergian. I learned what I am my senior year of high school. That is where my story starts. You'll see every obstacle, every appointment, every trial, as I learn what it means to be an Aspergian.

Kiểm tra tính cách 2 các câu trả lời

Click here to write a response...
hơn một năm qua dragonsmemory said…
PROLOGUE: LABYRINTH
I've always known I was different from the other kids my age. Sure I had friends. What kid doesn't? The problem is, I had some difficulty making new friends. I always clung to the old ones. It made sense to me. Why throw away a perfectly good friend in exchange for another that might not be worth it? That kind of reasoning has helped me avoid the "normal" high school drama. Normality is just a concept, an idea formed by the majority.

My parents and teachers saw my differences right from the start. I was reading by age two. In fact, I was able to comprehend Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by the time I started elementary school.
I was always the well-behaved kid, the quiet one with almost all the answers. I stuck to my few close friends or went off by myself. I stuck to a pattern. The pattern of my life. I and my classmates were still young enough not to fully realize my differences. After all, to a young kid, you were normal as long as you could have fun with everyone else. But I had another side to my personality.
At reading time, I'd sit off to the side, apart from the others, and listen to the story, my mind creating incredible visions of what was happening. I was always more than slightly awkward around the other kids. My closest friend was a girl bythe name of Victoria. She couldn't talk, but by the time I moved away, she would whisper in my ear, no one else's. She trusted me fully to be able to do that.
When it came to the actual work, there were even more problems. I knew the material, as my grades testified. But I couldn't focus on it. There was always some thought in my mind, sound, or movement in the classroom that warranted my immediate attention. I was too curious for my own good.
My parents took me to the doctor to see if they knew anything. The doctor took one look at my report card.
"What are you talking about? There's nothing wrong here," was all he said. And that was the end of it.
Te same thing happened when my parents talked to the child study team. One look at my most recent report card was all they needed to confirm that there was nothing wrong. My parents let the matter drop for a few years. Most likely, it was to see if they could sort me out on their own. But as I got older, things got worse. SOMETHING had to be done, but it wasn't untill my junior year of high school that action was taaken.
hơn một năm qua dragonsmemory said…
CHAPTER 1: CONUNDRUM
My junior year of high school was probably the most troubled year I ever had. I was seventeen that year, and trying to find my place in the adult world. I knew exactly what I wanted to do,.but not where I woyuld learn how to do it.
Up until that time, my parents were trying to find out on their own what was wrong withh me. Nothing they tried seemed to work. They never gave up. I was able to scrape together enough passing grades to balance out the rest by the end of each marking period. It was working for me. I knew the material, and proved it. But my parents weren't saatisfied.
I just took it all in stride.
And so the years wore on.

By the end of my sophomore year, my parents were forming the start of their master plan. It wasn't until the middle of junior year, right around the start of 2011, that action was taken for the first time.
An appointment was made with CNNH, somewhere around Voorhees. ((A/N: I'm too lazy to check right now. Someone can do it later)) The place was inside a sterile-smelling office building. It was quieter than a library inside. I could have heard a pin drop, if any had fallen. The office itself was rather small and dark. The ffirst thing I noticed about the other patients was their age ranges. Most of them were very young, barely even school age. I was probably the oldest new patient they had.

The appointment was fairly straightforward, just a bunch of tests. Other appointments would have to follow. And so it began. Would I ever get away from these appointments? Probably not.
I met with a woman by the name of Sarah on the second appointment. She talked to me like I was different, like I was a very mentally disabled little kid. I clearly was not. I hated being talked down to.
The appointment covered the first round of bases, looking over my test scores. It seemed as though I had a touch of ADD. Just a touch. It had probably been inherited from my dad, who really had it.
Sarah talked to us at length about my other difficulties, even going so far as to draw up a fanciful plan. The plan was a points system . I can't remember all the little details, but I knew it was meant for someone younger and much worse.
But there was one thingg Sarah sugested that we COULD use: a 504 plan. That would enable me to get all the help I needed for the rest of my education, as it carries over through college. The most straightforward part of my new 504 instructed that I sit as close to the front as humanly possible. I nearly cheered at that. Seating charts had always been something to dread. Now, at least, I wouldn't have to squint to see the board.