Cosho’s Corner

Welcome to Cosho’s Corner

In April of 2006, I was diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome at 54 years old. I hope that my Corner will enlighten, inspire and delight all readers intrested in learning more about Asperger’s syndrome.

cosho

 

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What the Heck is Asperger’s?

By Marilyn Cosho

Marilyn Cosho-age 4

Photo courtesy of Marilyn Cosho
Marilyn Cosho at age 4 with a family cat. The Coshos had a constant supply of pets during Marilyn’s childhood. Marilyn felt a special bond with them, as do many people with Asperger’s syndrome

So you think it is difficult to keep a routine?
Reducing choices to keep everything serene.

Do you try to make life simple to avoid the fuss?
If you have Asperger’s syndrome, sameness is a must.

It’s extremely hard to never change.
To maintain your day in a narrow range.

No husband, no children, no distractions per se.
You may wonder why this person is so tired every day.

Any abrupt change, I become unnerved,
If I forget to buy peanut butter, dinner’s obscured.

This relates to another difficulty I apprehend.
It’s in finding a different way to solve a problem.

And what of the virtue of keeping on task?
To finish the job, down to the last?

I am drawn to details, like a moth to a flame,
Intense concentration comes naturally, stopping is the strain.

Do you have an idea so you just jot it down?
I’ve spent 15 hours going round and around.

Doing my special interests fascinates my mind,
I become so entranced, I lose all track of time.

The imagination takes over, similar to hypnosis.
No wonder it can be mistaken for mania or psychosis.

Joy and happiness are worth the price,
But feeling there’s not enough time isn’t so nice.

The reason a special interest can be so alluring,
Is that intense concentration is a refuge from all that’s disturbing.

It’s as exciting as Carter’s first glimpse into Tut’s tomb
Or Armstrong’s first stepping out onto the moon.

Einstein and Glenn Gould seemed awkward in day-to-day living,
It was their quest for beauty and order that was all-consuming.

Cleaning or sorting, finding the best whatever,
It might be repeating a seemingly worthless endeavor.

I once spent three hours without any fret,
Picking off tiny dead blossoms from a pot of baby’s breath.

Being with people is a huge drain.
Solitude the only way to find calmness again.

The ratio is about 2:2, experience has shown.
Two hours with people, then at least two alone.

An unexpected call will set me back.
Staying up late will be simply that.

Talking is exhausting, e-mails are better.
I don’t care about clothes, I like my old sweater.

If you’re a doctor or therapist and graduated pre-’94,and your adult patient has symptoms that cover the floor.

And your patient is intelligent but underachieves,
Don’t overlook Asperger’s or you may be deceived.

One-on-one they can speak with some ease,
Being somewhat uncertain, they will try hard to please.

But these older adults have learned to act,
Underneath this fragile veneer, they may not feel intact.

Don’t tell them they’re smart and need to trust their instincts,
That’s precisely their problem, they’re needier than you think.

Honest and loyal, not wanting to be cruel,
Yet I’m often misunderstood and feel childish as a rule.

Underemployed, divorced, and undiagnosed, I was a wreck,
A college degree, conscientious; without much self-respect.

It is hard for people to grasp the Asperger anomaly,
A disguised disability that can create such despondency.

Memory for some things but getting lost following directions,
Sensitive to touch, light and reflections.

Can mix paint perfectly, can hear a gnat,
Who finds value in skills like that?

Animals can fill the need for intimacy,
I wish I could hold a cow or pet a baby wallaby.

The older I get the more aware of my needs I become,
The more deliberately I search to seek out what’s fun.

It’s a marvel to me that kids now can be diagnosed at age three.
I was 54 when I finally found me.

The diagnosis was a life-changing event.
The puzzle is solved, I’m the way I was meant.

So if you ever meet someone you know has Asperger’s,
Please look past their eccentricities, for you may find hidden treasures.

Sept. 1, 2007.

Dedicated to my counselor Sara Hill, a licensed clinical social worker.

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Miniature fairy twig chair

Her fairy twig chairs are extremely delicate, intricate — and beautiful. Photo by Brad Talbutt / Idaho Statesman

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What the Heck is Asperger’s? -A Poem by Marilyn Cosho

 

 

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My Story | Unraveling A Mystery