Through my son's eyes !

[DS is 10yr old now - this is a futuristic imagination of how he would feel when we tell him about his condition]

I’m a 15 year old. I think I’m a normal 15 year old with the normal needs and normal outlook. Sometimes I think I cannot define ‘normal’. I tried to, but I have failed. So, I’ve used ‘normal’, since I’ve seen other normal people use normal.

My problem is that I think too much, see the details greatly and I can remember the minutest details. Give me a puzzle – actually, I don’t have to see the big picture; I can see the connections and continuity between two puzzle-pieces and connect them together. I’m pretty quick at that. At a young age, my parents have tried using deceit to get me to do something I don’t like. I can think 10 steps ahead of them and was able to say ‘no’ at their first step. I am much smarter than both of them put together. It often frustrated them; but it was my decision to make what I wanted to do.

I am quite good at arithmetic and all the numbers. I can learn things very quickly – one time, when I was in 2nd grade, my math teacher took me to the 7th grade and asked me about the 8-tables. My mother later told me that was because a student in the 7th grade did not know the tables. However, other than shopping, where I have to give a certain amount of money to get what I want, I don’t see any use to the numbers. My mother used to tell me that I could learn mathematics so quick that I used to get bored with the sums when I was in lower grade. What I loved was the words and the play it had. It was fascinating to me that by dropping a letter here or there gave completely a new meaning to what is being said. I loved it and found those phunny.

I loved visuals, songs and painting. I could actually hear a song a few times and then I could sing it out myself. I was told that I’m quite good at that, only if I could sing it in tune. I don’t understand that – but I enjoy listening to songs and singing along with it. There are few of my favorites that remain so for a period of time. I also like painting – particularly I relished the time when my friend came home and painted with me. I really liked her, but I am not sure if I told her that – I hope she got the fact that I was happy that she came home and played with me. It is a special moment for me. I still smile when my parents talk about her.

I am a very shy person. Also, I know I am not well coordinated. So when I go to the playground, I look at other boys and want to play with them. Sometimes I don’t know how to. So, I just like to be in the group with them. Sometimes I get bullied, but I think it is ok – since they are at least talking to me! I try and tell them that bullying is not good; some of them listen, few of them don’t. But although I remember every detail, I forget about it. As my father has said, it is sometimes good to forgive. I think I just do that.

I don’t like certain noises. Just like my father – he does not like the noise of the blender while he is watching TV. I just don’t like that noise at all, any time. I also don’t like to change constantly. I see and remember so much detail that it is tough on me when that changes often. I find it comforting and soothing if things are where they should be. Sometimes, my parents have helped me through it. We have played games that have helped me understand that although I don’t like change, my parents have helped me understand that changes are good for them and help them to stay away from boring. I think, it is similar to, I like chicken and my mother likes appam. We are different.

Ah, my parents. My father – Sometimes I cry and feel like crying when he scolds me; but I remember times, when I have played with him and when he talks to me about his office, his own child-days, asks me about my school – and I remember those well. It makes me laugh. I also make him laugh, when I hid the remote once, when I did not want to change the TV Channel. I can still recall how he hugged me before I go to sleep. During those times, I did not feel scared about anything, even the bullies. My mother, I like her mostest, more than my father – I do think a great deal of her. I’m not very clear how other mothers are, but my mother is the greatest. She is so caring and she takes care of me so well. I really feel happy and good when I hug her. Somehow, when she gets hurt I feel bad – that day she hurt her toe dashing against furniture and she cried out aloud – Usually, when a ‘dashing’ happens, I find them funny; But that day, seeing my mother in pain, I too cried. I love her very much and I do think she does too.

I’m not really sure about this: I’m 15 years now – I was told that I’m different due to how my brain is wired – I’m a kid with Pervasive Development Disorder. I am told I’ll be incapable of thinking, learning, making friends, showing emotions and being affectionate. Maybe it is true.

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