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So here I am, a fifty-three-year-old dad with Asperger’s Syndrome (a higher functioning form of autism with pronounced social issues) and a parent to a twenty-one-year-old daughter that I had full custody of since she was five. I generally have a hard time talking with people I don’t know and often the same as those I’m friends with.
“But this is your daughter, J.R. Certainly, you can’t have problems talking to your own daughter, can you?”
I can.
I do.
Last year she transferred schools and moved back in with me while she works and takes classes. Since she’s twenty-one, when I say she moved in with me what I mean is she has a bedroom that is pretty much her home and she occasionally comes out to use the bathroom and kitchen.
Last night as we sat at the table saying very few words to each other and having long and, at least on my end, uncomfortable silences, I realized that this has gone on for the majority of her life.
That makes sense as I’ve been autistic all her life, but just coming to that realization put me in panic attack mode. The knowledge that I could have been a better parent and that my not communicating well could in some way demonstrate a lack of love scared me to death.
I wanted to talk with her about it and apologize, but, well, I’m sure if you’ve read this far you know that I didn’t. It’s not that I didn’t want to. It’s that I physically couldn’t. Twice I tried opening my mouth to speak but the words wouldn’t come out. It was as if something was holding them down inside.
I had a physical feeling of being held back and my words were restrained by fear. Fear of what I honestly have no clue, but that’s how it is with panic attacks. You don’t always know why you’re having one or why you feel the way you feel, physically, mentally and emotionally, you just feel that way.
If you’ve never had one of a severe magnitude, what I’m saying right now probably sounds like pure nonsense. But back to my daughter…
I know that I’ve been a good dad and I know I show her that I love her, and I tell her, but this lack of communicating with her, this inability to make small talk bugs me like you can’t imagine,
Two weeks ago I drove her four hours to the Kansas City airport and last week I brought her back from the airport. Those were a couple of uncomfortable car rides as other than talking briefly about her trip, I didn’t know what else to talk to her about.
Thank God she spent four hours each way texting people. That at least got me somewhat off the hook, but still, how can a dad not be able to talk to his daughter? What’s wrong with that person? Is there something wrong with that person?
Don’t ask me. I’m the guy who can’t talk to people, including the ones I love the most.
I hate to admit it but I’m very envious of the parents who can talk with their kids about anything and who have a close line of communication with them. If you’re one of those people, I hope you know how lucky you are.
You can ask the Executive Editors here and they will tell you that I’m extremely hard on myself, but on this subject, I don’t know that I’m being overly harsh.
Asperger’s or not, shouldn’t a dad be able to have a conversation with his own daughter without feeling physically restrained?
Please do not ask the Executive Editors as I don’t need to be the guy responsible for stuffing their inbox and distracting them from their work. Just take my word for it.
Is this something you’ve dealt with or do you know someone who does? Do I sound like a loon for what I’ve said? We want to hear. Use the comments section and let’s get a dialogue going on the subject.
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Photo courtesy Pixabay.