Extremely Specific Feelings I Hate, In No Particular Order

A very neurodivergent list

If you haven’t read Mary H.K. Choi’s beautiful essay in The Cut about her autism diagnosis, you should. Esme Weijun Wang has written about the topic beautifully in her Substack, too. There’s so much great writing by women who eventually realized that they aren’t broken or irredeemably weird, they’re just autistic. Lyrical, stunning writing that captures the feeling of being out-of-place, an alien masquerading as an adult human female, playacting at normal.

I was officially diagnosed with autism a few weeks ago. It wasn’t a surprise. My daughter was diagnosed four years ago, and the more I’ve learned about her processing, the more I’ve seen that a lot of her challenges are more severe versions of issues I’ve been struggling with and developing coping mechanisms for my whole life. Which made me go, “Huh.”

I’m not going to write a gorgeous lyrical essay about it, because that’s just not my style. I’ll probably write about it someday, but mostly I’ll point out how hilarious the whole thing was. Hopefully I’ll be able to make it funny but also poignant, and make you feel both how uncomfortable it was to spend two hours talking about how stressful I find normal social situations, and also relieved for how validated I felt, and also convey a little bit of the sadness of spending a lifetime wondering how I can simultaneously be too sensitive and an overly rational robot.

It really was a funny experience, though. For example: one of the first things the doctor asked me was if I had any special interests, and I said, “No. Well, actually, yes.”

“What happened there?” He asked. “What made you say no and then correct yourself?”

“Well, I was comparing myself to how my daughter used to just name minerals and their chemical composition, and if that’s what a special interest looks like, then I don’t have anything like that. But then I realized that if you walked into my house, you’d definitely think I have a special interest.”

“What would I see if I walked into your house?” He didn’t NOT sound concerned.

So I explained to him that my dining table looks like this:

I’m in the middle of making a Lego flower wall, like this one. Actually, in theory I’m making two flower walls, because when I told my mom about the project she wanted one too. It’s a big endeavor, even for someone who loves Lego flowers. And this is only a small portion of the flowers I’ll need to make! I still have to put together all of these:

(Yes, there is a single red rose bouquet set included there, even though I’m on the record hating it. I added it to my cart under duress because my mother specifically requested I do so.)

Anyway, after I explained all of that to the doctor, he said, “Yeah, I’d say that’s a special interest.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Big time.”

I actually felt a little embarrassed when he said that, because before that conversation it had never occurred to me that my Lego flower wall was a glaring symptom of my neurodivergence and not just a fun artistic side hobby that I enjoy working on for relaxation or with my kids. And then I remembered the main reason I’ve always suspected I’m autistic: how deeply horrified I always am when I realize a thing I thought was common is actually very strange, and how frequently I seek reassurance that my feelings are normal.

With that in mind, I’ve complied a list of feelings I really, really hate. I don’t know whether these are common or whether I’m the only one who has ever experienced them. I’m trying not to care so much about that last part and just to accept my sensory experience as valid regardless of whether I share it with others! It’s a work in progress.

My least favorite, very specific feelings that other people may or may not share:

I stepped in ketchup

I smiled at a dog and its owner is a dude and now I have to worry that he thought I was smiling at him

There’s something in my house that smells kind of off but I can’t figure out where it’s coming from and maybe I’m just imagining it

I’ve moved an adverb around in a sentence four times and still can’t figure out the right place for it

I went to print something and my printer is SO much louder than I remembered it being

I’m out in public and just remembered this dress has a hole in the armpit

Is my car parked too far from the curb? Maybe a little, but not enough that I need to repark it, probably. Or maybe I should?

Two takeout containers stacked on top of each other are just slightly too tall to fit in the fridge shelf

I just remembered a fragment of a phrase from a book or movie but can’t place the bigger context

I have to leave in 20 minutes and there are 27 minutes left in this movie/TV episode

A picture of me looks weird and then I remember that’s because I always see myself mirrored and actually the weird version is the one everyone else is always looking at, all the time

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Maybe you’re a normal person and you’re like, “Ha! What a funny list!” And then you’re going to be able to go on with your day. (Or even more normal and you’re like, “Um, ok, weirdo. Whatever.”) But maybe you’re staring at your screen and your face is a frozen mask of abject horror. If it’s the latter, maybe consider an autism assessment. And then write about it! Turns out, decades of learning to compensate for a deep existential dread about not being legible to other people can drive people to want to become better at articulating their inner worlds. Go figure.