Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

PLEASE NOTE: This post contains a major spoiler for a classic piece of literature. If you haven't read said work and intend to do so, feel free to stop reading at any time.

First of all, allow me to apologize for the delay between my previous post and this one. I recently started a new job and have been quite busy.

I've had the title of this post in my head for a while. I'm sure most of us have heard of the title characters from Robert Louis Stevenson's famous nineteenth-century novella. Though I've never actually read said work in its entirety, I'm familiar with its premise.

The novella, entitled in full Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, takes place in Victorian London and tells the tale of two men - the kind scientist Dr. Henry Jekyll and the violent, evil Mr. Edward Hyde. The reader eventually comes to learn that Jekyll and Hyde are in fact two different personas of the same individual. I find that the dichotomy between the two is an appropriate metaphor for how I feel at times as an autistic person.

Before I proceed, allow me to say that I intend no disrespect toward other folks with ASD in implying that a neurotypical presentation is analogous to Dr. Jekyll and a neuroatypical one analogous to Mr. Hyde. We all experience our conditions differently, and I respect that. I ask that readers take the following for what it is - an accounting of my own dealings with my neurodivergence and how the Jekyll-Hyde opposition helps me to understand and express them.

Much of the time - in fact, I'd say most of the time - I'm able to navigate day-to-day life as well as the next person. I get up, shower, change, go to work, come home, chill, go to sleep, and do it all over again the next day. When there's something that needs doing, I know how to get it done, or if I don't know, I figure it out. I have my likes and dislikes. I try to take care of myself as much as I can.

Other times, things are different. I'll be conversing with someone while barely looking at them, instead looking down and away and speaking with a tone and cadence that differs from how I normally interact with people. Sometimes, I won't speak hardly at all, preferring to communicate in another way. Or I'll be walking around in public and verbalize whatever's in my head, without directing said speech to anyone except myself. One might catch me flapping my arms, banging my fists together, fidgeting with whatever object I can get my hands on, or moving my muscles in some otherwise unusual way. Almost always, I find it physically impossible to sit still, instead rocking back and forth in whatever chair I'm sitting in. On rare occasions, I may not even leave my quarters other than to eat and use the facilities.

I don't know why my symptoms don't present themselves all the time. I almost feel like it'd be easier if they did, and I'd like to expound on that further in a later post. I know that the ending seems abrupt compared to my other posts, but it's getting late where I'm at, so I'm going to sign off here, but I'll be back again soon.

- A.A.