I'm mentally ill and I'm OK, I create all night and I'm antisocial all day



          Around the same time that Y2K was a thing, I learned about a new word:  Aspergers.  I pronounced it with derision—two words: Ass Burger's.  Because, even though this was a label which seemed to apply to most of the personality traits which made-up the who I had always been, it didn't change anything.  It was just another rose-by-any-other-name thing.  Knowing there was a new medical label for the person that was me (who avoids doctors, of every ilk, like they're machete-wielding street-corner bullies) had little impact on me.  I have always been comfortable with my introversion and bewildered by the behavior of what extroverts refer to as normal.

          In the 1980s, I referred to myself as Über-introverted.

          By the late 1990s I easily joked about myself as someone who was at the, "Unabomber-level of introversion; without the bombs and with a keener eye towards manifesto writing."

          Today, I still pine for a shack in the woods, rarely find myself in a position to use the term Aspergers in conversation (which is more-than-probably because listendon'talk is my normal, and not because I avoid identifying which brand of homo-sapiens I was born into), and never refer to Aspergers by nickname or acronym (for the same reason it's penis, not willy or cock).    
     
          Aspergers has now been moved under the umbrella of Autism Spectrum Disorder.  Some people have a problem with this change.  Some other "new mental illnesses" (now identified as such by the DSM) include: arrogance, narcissism, above-average creativity, cynicism, and antisocial behavior.

          I am now classified as a person with autism.  Personality traits are now referred to as diseases by machete-wielding street-corner bullies.

          These distinctions are causing some people to sit up and bark.  Others are shitting in their bed-clothes.  None of this has any more affect on me than when I learned—over a dozen years ago—that a new label existed for my introversion.

          La de da.
          Kay sera sera.
          Sometimes you just have to say what the fuck.  

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