Alright. Today’s Monday.
I’m on the train to my workplace. It’s jam-packed, people are speaking on their phones, there’s an entire school class in it and I can’t get to my earphones cause the train is too packed to reach for them in my backpack. I’m freaking out. Last night I couldn’t sleep well because my thoughts kept waking me up. I had to change outfits twice before leaving the house this morning because something was always not right.
I am a university student who works as a student assistant 10 hours per week at one of the two departments I am pursuing degrees at, but I spend around 35 hours weekly at said office. I enjoy doing my assignments and studying there. It’s quiet. I’m the youngest. I benefit from being the dumbest person in the room. Family members of mine are worried because they think I work too much and that’s why I’m irritable often. I don’t tell them I am stressed by some of their attempts to get me to do something other than work or research in the intensely busy phase I’m currently in because I know that would hurt them. Another factor that stresses me is one of my colleagues who will rant to me about their problems for at least an hour every day. I will just stand there in their office and listen. I get irritable when I feel like I have a ton of stuff to do and I have to spend my time on things that don’t help me accomplish anything in that area. But I don’t know how to tell my colleague. So I just avoid going to their office.
Last week was bad.
Apart from the aforementioned time-consuming circumstances, I wasn’t exactly delivering peak performances when I got to working either. This might have been caused by the unusual Friday the week prior to that. I was responsible for assisting a guest professor as well as managing their day and bureaucratic matters for eight and a half hours. Before they arrived, there had been some miscommunications via mail which caused a medium-sized fuss at the department and involved two of my professors. Needless to say, I was extra tense picking the guest up from the railway station. Hopefully, I’ll do better this week. I can’t waste any more time since I need to finish that paper before 2019 ends.
So here I am.
So far, none of this has explained why I believe I might be on the spectrum. I think I’m going keep it this way for now and invite you to come along with me as I introduce you to my present life and take you back in time in bite-sized blog posts (and explain why I think I could have ASD, of course). I have no idea where this project will take me. But if I manage to actually maintain this blog, I hope to publish a post titled “And the verdict is…” sooner or later.
Until then, come and join me on my way there. The journey starts today.
Best,
Simetra.
I’m on the train to my workplace. It’s jam-packed, people are speaking on their phones, there’s an entire school class in it and I can’t get to my earphones cause the train is too packed to reach for them in my backpack. I’m freaking out. Last night I couldn’t sleep well because my thoughts kept waking me up. I had to change outfits twice before leaving the house this morning because something was always not right.
I am a university student who works as a student assistant 10 hours per week at one of the two departments I am pursuing degrees at, but I spend around 35 hours weekly at said office. I enjoy doing my assignments and studying there. It’s quiet. I’m the youngest. I benefit from being the dumbest person in the room. Family members of mine are worried because they think I work too much and that’s why I’m irritable often. I don’t tell them I am stressed by some of their attempts to get me to do something other than work or research in the intensely busy phase I’m currently in because I know that would hurt them. Another factor that stresses me is one of my colleagues who will rant to me about their problems for at least an hour every day. I will just stand there in their office and listen. I get irritable when I feel like I have a ton of stuff to do and I have to spend my time on things that don’t help me accomplish anything in that area. But I don’t know how to tell my colleague. So I just avoid going to their office.
Last week was bad.
Apart from the aforementioned time-consuming circumstances, I wasn’t exactly delivering peak performances when I got to working either. This might have been caused by the unusual Friday the week prior to that. I was responsible for assisting a guest professor as well as managing their day and bureaucratic matters for eight and a half hours. Before they arrived, there had been some miscommunications via mail which caused a medium-sized fuss at the department and involved two of my professors. Needless to say, I was extra tense picking the guest up from the railway station. Hopefully, I’ll do better this week. I can’t waste any more time since I need to finish that paper before 2019 ends.
So here I am.
So far, none of this has explained why I believe I might be on the spectrum. I think I’m going keep it this way for now and invite you to come along with me as I introduce you to my present life and take you back in time in bite-sized blog posts (and explain why I think I could have ASD, of course). I have no idea where this project will take me. But if I manage to actually maintain this blog, I hope to publish a post titled “And the verdict is…” sooner or later.
Until then, come and join me on my way there. The journey starts today.
Best,
Simetra.
