Among the Squirrels

11 October 2008                Sleeping now in the park

I was diagnosed in July.

They tested me this past summer, in public places and without my consent. Who carried out the tests and who paid for them, I don’t know. They tested me with sounds, foods, colors, behaviors, staged situations, bla bla bla. It lasted over a month, all this testing. I’d be in some public place, and all of a sudden somebody’s doing a test, while one or two other people sit at tables and write notes about my response, or type away on a lap-top. And please don’t insult me with talk of delusions or paranoia or stupidity: I’m smart enough and plenty sane enough to know when someone at a table on one side of me is running a psychological test on me, and someone at the table on the other side of me is watching me and taking notes. These are in no way normal experiences for me in public places.

                                                                        

Update 1 Sept 2009:  So I was living among the squirrels and crows and blue jays and sparrows and chicadees when I first wrote this post, in Turners Falls. The testing had taken place in the summer, in Greenfield, and many of the things I recognized as tests as they were happening. Matthew apparently knew all about this, because when I questioned him about the rhyme and reason for one particular test, he said it was a test of my character. When the tests were over, he told me I had Aspergers. Whether or not you believe that depends on who and what you believe Matthew is, and you’ll make your own judgment on that.

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2 Comments

  1. ruthnoakes said,

    June 14, 2010 at 11:45 am

    What a confusing time it must have been…and quite sad that no one can truly see it through your eyes, even though your words always grant excellent detail. The emotions that go along with these things can’t be understood fully by someone who has never been there, but I’d liek to understand more, hence reading your posts.

  2. mishibone said,

    June 15, 2010 at 9:58 pm

    Well, it was infuriating to a greater degree than it was confusing. And it was degrading. And it was deplorable, and vicious, to me, that not one “Christian” in this cesspool gave me a spare room or a couch. Christ, I’m an evil bloody atheist, and I would have done that much for a middle-aged woman with physical illnesses, whose evicition was illegal, and whom I knew to be harmless.


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