whether perhaps I am inherently un-palatable.
I showed my therapist some of my unpublished writing, and now she can't decide whether I have Aspergers; "you're right," she says, "you are bordering on it." I think she's not sure. Maybe you're not supposed to be able to access that level of honesty and still be a normal human being. I am capable of keeping my mouth shut, but anxiously. My social anxiety isn't like the usual kind, she says. She is afraid of breaking me, by fixing it.
I'm pretty sure this could not happen without my consent, but still the idea is distressing. That I am so broken, or so wrong by nature, I would loose major parts of myself in learning how to function normally. That there is beauty in this structural abnormality. That to preserve this beauty, perhaps the pain will never go away. This idea makes me want to die. So, I'm trying not to think about it.