My first jump into the world of medication began one year ago. I was prescribed Welbutrin, which is technically an atypical antipsychotic.
My first observable side effect was an extremely variable mood. I would be weepy, then I would become nearly uncontrolably violent. I would throw things, have panic attacks, throw temper tantrums.
The next thing I would state, is where I think I can relate to those with Asperger’s. I COMPLETELY lost touch with any nonverbal signalling you can think of. Humor, gesture, gutteral responces, nuances, lines of though, facial expression, tone, inflection, stress, cadence, posture. You name it, I couldn’t understand it.
And being who I am, I have always had a knack for knowing when I was missing something. Which made the end of my freshman year pure hell. My friends were worried about me, but they seemed very accusitory. At this point I had lost all connotative definition, I was just operating on the concrete literal. I was SO, SO frustrated.
And so I tried to retreat into my one and sacred refuge. Writing. But my sanctuary had crumpled. I had no ability for poetry, for novel or short story.
So, for that brief period in my life, perhaps two months, I lost complete touch with the nonverbal world. It was devistating, horrible. If I had continued to live my life like that, my body would be a giant mass of scar tissue at the moment.
So next time someone is having trouble with body language, explain your EXACT meaning verbally, then talk them what to look for in order to determine that emotion, step-by-step, as best you can. It would have been possible to re-teach me the nonverbal realm, I think, but it would have been a real torture.
And remember for always, those with Aspergers, NLD, or Autism are saints, truely. They go through a battle everyday that I don’t think most people can imagine. Though perhaps everyone should have a month or so of their life with their NonVerbal brain center turned WAY down. It would foster unbelievable acceptance and compassion.
Looking back, I’m glad I had the experience, but it was a living hell. Everyday I am thankful that I don’t live with that form of disability. And if you don’t, you should be too. If you do, I respect everything that you are.