Having Aspergers means that I can misinterpret a great time that I had with someone else fairly easily. Unfortunately, my visit to Ohio was causing my daughter great pain. She saw me and remembered how she never had the mother that she wanted. She had a mother with Aspergers who didn't understand her and just got frustrated with and yelled at her.
We would have some enormous screaming fights. I would say things that I were logical, but were harsh and painful to hear for a little girl. I'd call her my porcupine, because I could never penetrate her needles to figure out what she needed. Though I took her on adventure after adventure, chauffeured her where ever she needed to go, and taught her how to be a mountain girl, I failed miserably as a mother due to my inability to empathize when she was sad.
Oh, I tried to empathize. If she had a problem, I'd tell her about a similar problem that I had to make her feel better. Unfortunately, my problem would be something totally horrible and compound her sorrow and overwhelm her. Poor thing.
At least now we've had a difficult discussion for two days about forgiveness, love, and boundaries. I know without any doubts what I've done to deserve our estrangement for three years. I know through our shared tears and hugs that this will be a long road to rebuild our relationship.
Through her tears she's asked why I can't forgive her dad for what he did and accept that he has changed? Why am I asking her to forgive me and accept that I will do better when I can't accept her dad's change? She finally realized that I am unable to see my ex-husband's change due to my inability to understand people's inner feelings due to my Aspergers. I have to observe his actions over a period of years to be sure that he's not pretending to be a good person like he did for years with me. Time will tell me his story of transformation.
My daughter and I made a lot of headway today though. She asked me to be formally diagnosed with Aspergers, since her psychologists think that she's just a complaining teenage daughter. So I took two respected online tests for Aspergers and passed with flying colors, made a document of my test questions with my answers and results, and sent them off to her before she returned from her volunteer orientation as a CNA.
The tests were http://rdos.net/eng/Aspie-quiz.php and http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/9.12/aqtest.html. Apparently, the circular charted results is an Aspie's badge and has to be kept as a source of pride. We are called Aspies, apparently. What a cute name for us. There's even an Aspie Affection dating sight http://www.aspieaffection.com/index.php?page=login&errid=104. My daughter strongly urged me to try to date men with Aspergers, so I joined. I won't hurt any more unsuspecting normal men via my inability to be empathetic. I won't be wasting time on a hopeless relationship path. Someone would have to live with me to see that I have Aspergers. It's painfully obvious then, because I have rigid routines, get over stimulated easily, go off on tangents in one-sided conversations, and have a need to be alone to calm down.
Fortunately, when my daughter, Sara, returned home from her volunteer job, she was happy with me. She told me that my Microsoft Word document of my two test results were perfect for her to show her psychologists in the future. Now people will believe that she has a mother with Aspergers. All that's left for me to do besides be quiet and just hug her when she's crying about something, is for me to research how to be a better mother with the confines of having Aspergers.
P.S. To my blog readers: If you want to support a struggling math/engineering teacher and author, please buy my first book, "The Romance of Kilimanjaro," soon to be followed by my second book at: https://www.tatepublishing.com/bookstore/book.php?w=9781613464960 Thank You!
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