Mom came up yesterday. She brought me a chair, pet the kitten, and then we talked for a while–longer than she planned–about Asperger’s and why I sought a label and how it has helped me order my life. She had a few suggestions for parts of my childhood that were probably characteristic that I had forgotten, like my extreme difficulty with socks (oh, fuck, I hate socks–this is somewhat better now), and clarified a few points that I misremembered, being about three at the time.

She also brought my most recent (save mechanical watches) collection, 1″ button/badges with (usually obnoxious) things written on them. At one point I had dozens of them, and wore them to school every day on my backpack. I sought them out compulsively in stores anywhere we went, prized them and had a complex orginizational system on my bag itself (totally incomprehensible, of course). As I mentioned to Kitty, I think I liked them because when one is struggling for a sense of identity and is acutely aware of a pervasive difference, with no hope of outgrowing it left, then a summation of personhood in a short, witty statement is the next best thing. Also, bright colours! I have always liked bright colours.

I sent her back with my favourite book on Asperger’s, Asperger’s from the Inside Out, and excerpts from The Complete Guide to Asperger’s Syndrome, which is less awesome–I find Attwood to be patchy: excellent in some areas and then just ridiculously demeaning and off-base in others, so I photocopied the good parts.