My wife filled out an assessment form for my son because she thinks he might be autistic. When she gave it to me to read I had a bit of a shock: every word felt like a description of ... me.
I don't know how I feel. I think the word is discombobulated. I've been reliving every incident from my life.
"Dad," my son had asked, "what would it mean if I'm autistic?"
"It changes nothing," I said. "You'll be the same loveable person."
Those are words I need to hear myself too.