While I was not diagnosed until I was forty-seven years old, my mother knew I was different. In the over-arching thematic scope of My Life: The Movie, my mother was kind. My mother was understanding. My mother was adaptable.
At some point, our entire tribe of five people, developed a tribal language based on movie quotes. A quote from “The Breakfast Club” meant I was frustrated and felt oppressed by silly social norms (please note that these are not the thoughts I thought at the time of thinking, these are just an outsiders interpretation of the contextual clues provided – in other words, at this point in my life, I now have the vocabulary to explain the unexplainable feelings I was having at that moment in time). And… where was I… Oh, yeah, a quote from “Mommie Dearest” meant that my mom was frustrated with our behavior and would like us to adjust it before she has to turn into a mean mommy and beat us with wire hangers. Overall, it was an effective tool that worked until we were teenagers.
In the Navy
I joined the Navy when I was a junior in high school. My mom was mostly against it, but she was accepting and adaptable. However, as 1991 sprang forth and I was about to graduate, the Ira… uhm… AN Iraq war broke out. (I could give you my feelings on how 1991 – 2001 was one long war of aggression meant to trade poor people’s lives for rich people’s money… but that’s for another time.)
I did what I always did, I looked at it logically. The moment the … err… THAT Iraq war broke out with ‘Shock and Awe’, the newsman was predicting the end was soon. I was looking at six months before graduating high school, another month before I went to boot camp, then 2 months of boot camp, and a contract for 2 years of school. Which meant that the war would be long forgotten history before I even touched the water. [The real time line had an added 3 years of working in the shipyard. I did end up in a “war” in Iraq, but nothing like the movies my mom screened for me in those last six months of high school.
At the time, Jack Nicholson was on a come back. He was the Joker, the devil, and a few others. My mom wanted to illustrate how not every job in the Navy is glamorous, so she brought “The Last Detail” home from the Blockbuster Video she ran.
From there I traveled over “Hamburger Hill” and “Heartbreak Ridge”. I saw the “Casualties of War” and while wearing a “Full Metal Jacket” and a pair of “Das Boots”. I understood the message, and I, again, used logic. The cost of training me would put me in a protective bubble inside an air conditioned space. So, none of the movies really told me nothing other than my mom was worried and that she would miss me.
Catch-22
One movie that did catch my attention was “Catch-22”. (I later read the book in my bunk on an aircraft carrier in a designated “war” area.) It’s also a movie that has stuck with me through my unraveling phase of getting diagnosed.
I have a self-awareness problem. I have too much. And, that simple statement has sent me into panic mode over the fact that people will instantly reject the concept simply because I said it. I may convince my therapist to create… no, that is too much. I want to create a certificate claiming I am the most self-aware client that my therapist has met, and have her sign it. She said it, and I just want it in writing.
With being self-aware, I know when I can be perceived as crazy, eccentric, or any other term for not on the tracks. I know the gap between what I know and what others know, so I can either suffer and wait for them to catch up, or run ahead on my lonely journey and just drop mile markers… like… “The North didn’t fight to end slavery!” and then hope that they shout out when they get there so I can track their progress.
I would rather have a person believe me than fight me… but the ultimate goal is for someone to understand me. The difference between believing and understanding doesn’t seem like a very far gap for most people, but when I sit on the understanding side looking at the believers, the gap is enormous. And while the distance seems unsurmountable, it only takes on click, one nugget, one word to knock everything in place and BAM, at the speed of light the person crosses divide… and I can actually hear and feel that moment.
Like when I was younger, I currently lack the vocabulary to fully explain the real physical feeling I get when someone near me traverses from Believer to Understander. But it is real.
