Who Am I?

Carrie Cariello

Let’s play a game, shall we? I’ll give you a bunch of clues, and you try to guess who I am.

I am not a person, place, or thing. You can’t see me or touch me or smell me.

I am considered a human condition, but really I am a collection of symptoms.

He doesn’t play with other kids.

The seams in his socks make him crazy.

She doesn’t like it if we drive home a different way.

He’ll sit and take the vacuum apart for hours.

He won’t look at me.

She doesn’t look at me.

When will she look at me?

I am the twitching finger and the flapping hand.

I am the silent toddler with downcast eyes and a tippy-toe walk.

I am a diagnosis, a disorder; a box you check on the medical form or a postscript at the end of an e-mail.

P.S. I’m not…

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