6 months since my life changed forever: Goodbye to the notion of normal

To continue the series of the 6 months since my life changed forever (and yes, I know it's been more than 6 months exactly), one thing that I realized today is that I had to say goodbye to the notion of normal. There was definitely an intial grief process because it was the loss of my perceived identity as a typical 26 year-old Christian female who was pursuing her career post-masters degree. When I was told that I might possibly have Asperger's Syndrome, I was faced with the prospect of identifing as a member of the individuals with Autism Spectrum Disorders community that I had always viewed from the outside as a student or reseacher looking in. Yes, I had read articles about ASD and knew some of the descriptors sounded eerily familiar, but I had thought, "And here I am, having basically overcame some of these difficulties reading these articles as a future interventionist." Suddenly I was going back over textbooks and articles reading them thinking, "This might be me. I always wondered, but this might be me. These descriptors may be immovable for my life."


My friends told me that there would definitely be positives about pursuing a diagnosis such as receiving services to help me and finally understanding how God had made me. But my mind was reeling when they told me Aspergers Syndrome. I told them, "Imagine if someone told you, 'You might have cancer.' Well, you guys are basically telling me, 'You have cancer. Of your development.'" I wasn't mad at them. I was just scared that there was a sledgehammer about to come down and absolutely shatter all my previous notions of who I thought I was.


Well, figuratively speaking, the hammer did come down. It fell in a bit of a different place than I expeccted with the diagnosis of PPD-NOS. But still, though I knew my identity in Christ was unshaken, my identity of 'a typical girl with a bit of an eye problem' was shattered. My identity as another interventionist in the HDFS field was shattered. I was not a typical post-graduate. I was not a typical person in my field. I didn't know what the future held for me with my new diagnosis. I didn't know how to think about myself. Yes, I knew that God had a purpose for me and that He loved me regardless, I just didn't know where to go from there. That's why I clung so tightly to Dr. Grandin's story in the beginning. I had to see how God directed her life so I could trust Him to direct mine.


After many tears and pondering my life, I am ok with not being normal. No, I don't want God to make the rest of my life a carbon-copy of Dr. Grandin's life :-D I'm NOT THAT CRAZY HAHA!!!!!!!!! But I don't hold the expectations of a 'normal life' over myself and hence get mad at myself when I don't meet them. For instance, I can feel more comfortable in the group-home with the clients than in a staff meeting. Previously, I'd chide myself for that, but now I just say, "Meh, that's how the way God made me." Of course, I've learned some coping strategies and learned how to speak up at staff meetings so I can contribute in a good way.


One major step I took last sweek was making an appointment with the Departmet of Vocational Rehabilitation. Definitely not normal. But I figure, if they can help me learn interview skills and different ways to help me cope at my current and future jobs, than that works for me. I avoided getting disability services for my eyes in undergrad because I had intense shame at admitting any weakness. Anything that would make me stand out from the norm, I avoided.


Yet as God removed the shame of me being different, I felt more free to access these resources. I had to believe that God loves me even in my weakness; that He does not grieve that I am not 'his perfect little child' because I am not apart from Christ. He looks at me - flaws an all - and because He sees Christ in me - He loves me. Not for my abilities or goodness, but because of Christ. As I let go of this notion of trying to be normal, I embraced this truth, and this has made a ton of difference.