Telling Rosie my life story was not di๏ฌcult. Every psychologist and psychiatrist I have seen has asked for a summary, so I have the essential facts clear in my mind.
My father owns a hardware store in a regional city. He lives there with my mother and my younger brother, who will probably take over when my father retires or dies. My older sister died at the age of forty as a result of medical incompetence. When it happened, my mother did not get out of bed for two weeks, except to attend the funeral. I was very sad about my sisterโs death. Yes, I was angry too.
My father and I have an e๏ฌective but not emotional relationship.ย ๎is is satisfactory to both of us. My mother is very caring but I ๏ฌnd her sti๏ฌing. My brother does not like me. I believe this is because he saw me as a threat to his dream of inheriting the hardware store and now does not respect my alternative choice.ย ๎e hardware store may well have been a metaphor for the a๏ฌection of our father. If so, my brother won, but I am not unhappy about losing. I do not see my family very often. My mother calls me on Sundays.
I had an uneventful time at school. I enjoyed the science subjects. I did not have many friends and was brie๏ฌy the object of bullying. I was the top student in the school in all subjects except English, where I was the top boy. At the end of my schooling I left home to attend university. I originally enrolled in computer science but on my twenty-๏ฌrst birthday made a decision to change to genetics.ย ๎is may have been the result of a subconscious desire to remain a student, but it was a logical choice. Genetics was a burgeoning ๏ฌeld.ย ๎ere is no family history of mental illness.
I turned toward Rosie and smiled. I had already told her about my sister and the bullying.ย ๎e statement about mental illness was correct, unless I included myself in the de๏ฌnition ofย family. Somewhere in a medical archive is a twenty-year-old ๏ฌle with my name and the words โdepression, bipolar disorder? OCD?โ and โschizophrenia?โย ๎e question marks are important: beyond the obvious observation that I was depressed, no de๏ฌnitive diagnosis was ever made, despite attempts by the psychiatric profession to ๏ฌt me into a simplistic category. I now believe that virtually all my problems could be attributed to my brainโs being con๏ฌgured di๏ฌerently from those of the majority of humans. All the psychiatric symptoms were a result of this di๏ฌerence, not of any underlying disease. Of course I was depressed: I lacked friends, sex, and a social life, because I was incompatible with other people. My intensity and focus were misinterpreted as mania. And my concern with organization was labeled as obsessive-compulsive disorder. Julieโs Aspergerโs kids might well face similar problems in their lives. However, they had been labeled with an underlying syndrome, and perhaps the psychiatric profession would be intelligent enough to apply Occamโs razor and see that the problems they might face would be largely due to their Aspergerโs brain con๏ฌguration.
โWhat happened on your twenty-๏ฌrst birthday?โ asked Rosie.
Had Rosie read my thoughts? What happened on my twenty-๏ฌrst birthday was that I decided that I needed to take a new direction in my life, because any change was better than staying in the pit of depression. I actually visualized it as a pit.
I told Rosie part of the truth. I donโt generally celebrate birthdays, but my family had insisted in this case and had invited numerous friends and relatives to compensate for my own lack of friends.
My uncle made a speech. I understood that it was traditional to make fun of the guest of honor, but my uncle became so encouraged by his ability to provoke laughter that he kept going, telling story after story. I was shocked to discover that he knew some extremely personal facts, and I realized that my mother must have shared them with him. She was pulling at his arm, trying to get him to stop, but he ignored her and did not stop until he noticed that she was crying, by which time he had completed a detailed exposition of my faults and of the embarrassment and pain that they had caused.ย ๎e core of the problem, it seemed, was that I was a stereotypical computer geek. So I decided to change.
โTo a genetics geek,โ said Rosie.
โ๎at wasnโt exactly my goal.โ But it was obviously the outcome. And I got out of the pit to work hard in a new discipline. Where was dinner?
โTell me more about your father.โ
โWhy?โ I wasnโt actually interested in why. I was doing the social equivalent of saying โoverโ to put the responsibility back on Rosie. It was a trick suggested by Claudia for dealing with di๏ฌcult personal questions. I recalled her advice not to overuse it. But this was the ๏ฌrst occasion.
โI guess because I want to see if your dad is the reason youโre fucked-up.โ โIโm not fucked-up.โ
โOkay, not fucked-up. Sorry, I didnโt mean to be judgmental. But youโre not exactly average,โ said Rosie, psychology PhD candidate.
โAgreed. Does โfucked-upโ mean โnot exactly averageโ?โ
โBad choice of words. Start again. I guess Iโm asking because my father is the reason thatย Iโmย fucked-up.โ
An extraordinary statement. With the exception of her careless attitude
to health, Rosie had never exhibited any sign of brain malfunction. โWhat are the symptoms of being fucked-up?โ
โIโve got crap in my life that I wish I hadnโt. And Iโm not good at dealing with it. Am I making sense?โ
โOf course,โ I said. โUnwanted events occur and you lack certain skills for minimizing the personal impact. I thought when you said โfucked-upโ that there was some problem with your personality that you wanted to rectify.โ
โNo, Iโm okay with being me.โ
โSo what is the nature of the damage caused by Phil?โ
Rosie did not have an instant reply to this critical question. Perhaps this was a symptom of being fucked-up. Finally she spoke. โJesus, whatโs taking them so long with dinner?โ
Rosie went to the bathroom, and I took the opportunity to unwrap the presents that Gene and Claudia had given me.ย ๎ey had driven me to the airport, so it was impossible not to accept the packages. It was fortunate that Rosie was not watching when I opened them. Geneโs present was a new book of sexual positions and he had inscribed it: โIn case you run out of ideas.โ He had drawn the gene symbol that he uses as his signature underneath. Claudiaโs present was not embarrassing but was irrelevant to the tripโa pair of jeans and a shirt. Clothes are always useful, but I had
already packed a spare shirt and did not see a need for additional pants in only eight days.
Gene had again misconstrued the current nature of my relationship with Rosie, but this was understandable. I could not explain the real purpose for taking Rosie to New York, and Gene had made an assumption consistent with his worldview. On the way to the airport, I had asked Claudia for advice on dealing with so much time in the company of one person.
โRemember to listen,โ said Claudia. โIf she asks you an awkward question, ask her why sheโs asking. Turn it back to her. If sheโs a psychology student, sheโll love talking about herself. Take notice of your emotions as well as logic. Emotions have their own logic. And try to go with the ๏ฌow.โ
In fact, Rosie spent most of the remainder of the ๏ฌight to Los Angeles either sleeping or watching ๏ฌlms, but con๏ฌrmedโtwiceโthat I had not o๏ฌended her and she just needed time out.
I did not complain.
