Testing: Day 1-Formidable Forms

Ahoy me mateys!  Today was the first day of testing, which basically meant forms, questions, and more forms.  Fun fact: I am shit at eye contact and sitting still for more than 10 minutes.  More funner fact: I’m pretty sure that Argon, the Autism specialist doing my testing, is on the spectrum as well.  Because that’s the only way I can logically understand why he would say I make good eye contact.  However, the absolute funnest fact is that I positively absolutely suck at filling out forms.  It’s hard for me to even write my name on the top of the paper.

The place I’m doing the Testing is tiny and claustrophobic feeling.  I didn’t bring my mother because godsdammitall I am a fucking adult and I don’t need help filling out forms.  Spoiler alert for my fans: I do.  My various heathen gods, I do.  However, he let me take home some of them so I can take my time in the next 2 weeks to do them.

I’m not going to do a play-by-play of the entire session, but for those of you needing to go in for an Autism Assessment or have to get re-assessed or whatever, bring a list of symptoms that you’ve noticed in yourself  If you are anything like me, saying ‘I am an individual of great intellect and thusly, I have no need of such things as written symptom list and past diagnosis and current medications, I can remember everything in acute detail’, you are lying to yourself and you know it.  You’ll walk in there, confidently sit down, and as soon as you start to speak all that comes out is some variation of ‘I kan haz the spaz and the not to do the people plz’.

Ah, such articulation, isn’t it?  And that is basically how it went.  He asked me questions, and for the first little bit I wasn’t as nervous and jittery and spazzy, but I had a hard time vocalizing some of my points.  As the appointment drew to a close, my answers became less and less answer-like and ended up resembling various ways of “I don’t know, I don’t understand, I’m bored.”  I was rocking side to side, jumping in my seat a little bit, playing with my toy car that I’ve named Chaz the Spaz toy, and pulling at my hat and ear.  My various heathen gods, please be more prepared than me.

I recommend that you should also  eat enough to keep your stomach from grumbling.  An apple in the wee hours of the morning and a half packet of ramen at 11 equalling 300 calories in total does not equal a sufficient amount of food to keep one going during a stressful intake interview.  Especially if one has the Autism.  And especially if one has to fill out forms.

I really fucking hate forms.  The ones they make you fill out for assessments are particularly asinine and ridiculous.  They are confusing.  They ask the same thing in different ways but not really because fucking forms want to kill your mother and rape your father and burn your house down with all your favourite pokemon cards and religious holiday gifts inside.  I don’t know if people think I’m weird for my way of greeting.  I don’t know how my face contorts itself to display emotions or whatever.  And I certainly don’t know how a normal person goes about their day.

“Write name here” “The Sarcastic Autist”  “Please write date of birth using roman numerals and sacrifice an almost virgin to the Great God Cthulu to determine the amount of hours you’ve spent taking a dump”  “7?”  “Do you begin conversations of topics of interest to other people?”  “Uh… my interests or their interests?  Word it better you dense mother fuckers godsfuckingdammit I hate this so much”  “what is the square root of the cubed radius of a chicken bone from the Druidic era of East Australia”  “Kill me”

I really hate forms.  I hate filling out paperwork and I do not speak politician or bureaucrat.  I speak English sometimes.  Social interactions are hard.  Forms are harder.  Please, for the love of all that is holy and responsible for my weird brain powers, stick me in a room full of people who want to hug and touch me and talk about shit that I have no interest in.  Force me to do eye contact.  Just no more forms, please.

Or at least reward me with an ice cream after.

-The Sarcastic Autist

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