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I consider many/most of you to be friends by this point, so I'll share along with everyone else.
Besides breaking countless bones over the course of my thirty-four years (reason forthcoming), I have Asberger Syndrome. I'm guessing that not many people have heard of it. It's a form of Autism Spectrum Disorder, which is a way of saying I'm mildly autistic. Sometimes, while in the womb, the developmental center of the brain is affected in various ways; some cases are more severe than others. The result, unfortunately, is a whole laundry list of psychological and cognitive issues, including but not limited to: attention deficit, obsessive compulsive disorder, social anxiety disorder, lack of empathy, spatial clumsiness... you name it. But there are also benefits (think Rain Man with Dustin Hoffman)
In most cases, these things are mild as compared to those who have, for example, strict OCD or ADHD.
Unfortunately, twelve different mild disorders are one hell of a problem with which to deal.
Some "Aspies" are worse than others. Most are functional, some are not. Thankfully, I have a very mild version of the syndrome. Many times, life is made easier for Asperger patients through Cognitive Therapy -- but I was diagnosed about twenty years too late for it to be effective (childhood and adolescence was a bitch due to not understanding my problem). So, I just have to deal with it.
Benefits of the Syndrome: I know four languages, have a near perfect memory, can read about twenty pages of written material per minute, and can do complex math as fast as a man with a paper ass running through a forest fire.
Pitfalls: Clumsiness (explains the broken bones), trouble interacting face-to-face with people, easy to frustrate (but slow to anger), nervous ticks, anxiety, difficulty focusing, and too many others to list.
I guess that's why enjoy restoring pipes so much: for some reason beyond my understanding, I'm able to focus while I'm doing that. The Gremlin that runs the wheels in my brain takes a breather. I enjoy it, I'm rewarded by it, and it brings calm to the storm. The pipe smoking does wonders, too.
Besides breaking countless bones over the course of my thirty-four years (reason forthcoming), I have Asberger Syndrome. I'm guessing that not many people have heard of it. It's a form of Autism Spectrum Disorder, which is a way of saying I'm mildly autistic. Sometimes, while in the womb, the developmental center of the brain is affected in various ways; some cases are more severe than others. The result, unfortunately, is a whole laundry list of psychological and cognitive issues, including but not limited to: attention deficit, obsessive compulsive disorder, social anxiety disorder, lack of empathy, spatial clumsiness... you name it. But there are also benefits (think Rain Man with Dustin Hoffman)
In most cases, these things are mild as compared to those who have, for example, strict OCD or ADHD.
Unfortunately, twelve different mild disorders are one hell of a problem with which to deal.
Some "Aspies" are worse than others. Most are functional, some are not. Thankfully, I have a very mild version of the syndrome. Many times, life is made easier for Asperger patients through Cognitive Therapy -- but I was diagnosed about twenty years too late for it to be effective (childhood and adolescence was a bitch due to not understanding my problem). So, I just have to deal with it.
Benefits of the Syndrome: I know four languages, have a near perfect memory, can read about twenty pages of written material per minute, and can do complex math as fast as a man with a paper ass running through a forest fire.
Pitfalls: Clumsiness (explains the broken bones), trouble interacting face-to-face with people, easy to frustrate (but slow to anger), nervous ticks, anxiety, difficulty focusing, and too many others to list.
I guess that's why enjoy restoring pipes so much: for some reason beyond my understanding, I'm able to focus while I'm doing that. The Gremlin that runs the wheels in my brain takes a breather. I enjoy it, I'm rewarded by it, and it brings calm to the storm. The pipe smoking does wonders, too.
Well let's see, two fake knees, one leg due to be removed in 4 months, 9 pieces of shrapnel, 1/4 of my right thigh is dead muscle, 5 metal plates in face, legally blind in right eye, a severe heart condition bc my mother did meth while pregnant, and ptsd.
My problem:
I have like 4 cavities in every friggin' tooth. I don't know why, I never was a bad brusher, I think it's genetic. When I was a kid when I walked into the dentist office, they were like "cha-CHING!! Here he comes!!" high-fiving each other. I was so scared of the dentist when I was a kid I would cry going, even when I was in my early teens, because no matter what, I would get there and have to have fillings. I hate needles going in my mouth and once almost punched out a dental hygenist (male, of course) who was a smartass when I was telling him to chill with the needles.
It sucks.
I have only had 1 root canal and, lo and behold, it was the guy's very first root canal outside of dental skool. He did an okay job, but this was like 20 years ago before they were supposedly made more simple.
My mouth is truly fcked. Don't know why.
I have like 4 cavities in every friggin' tooth. I don't know why, I never was a bad brusher, I think it's genetic. When I was a kid when I walked into the dentist office, they were like "cha-CHING!! Here he comes!!" high-fiving each other. I was so scared of the dentist when I was a kid I would cry going, even when I was in my early teens, because no matter what, I would get there and have to have fillings. I hate needles going in my mouth and once almost punched out a dental hygenist (male, of course) who was a smartass when I was telling him to chill with the needles.
It sucks.
I have only had 1 root canal and, lo and behold, it was the guy's very first root canal outside of dental skool. He did an okay job, but this was like 20 years ago before they were supposedly made more simple.
My mouth is truly fcked. Don't know why.
Wow, some pretty banged up dudes on here. I won't even bother putting my ailments on. They just don't stack up.
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