Wow, I'm a hot mess, but I need to be honest with the psychologist. Honesty is one of my flaws, too, but it's gotten better since I was young (I lied all the time growing up). I want to know what's wrong with me as much as Mom and Dad do, though, so I need to do it.

Almost all the social answers on the take-home autism test are Often True or Almost Always True. It looks like one of those standardized test booklets you would have in school: bubbles for you to fill in. The psychologist told me that while they usually wait until test day to hand out the booklet, he trusts me enough to fill it out beforehand. Therefore, I can't let him down, even if I am the Pinocchio of my family. He also gave me the same booklet for Mom or Dad to fill out, including two more sheets about Social Communication: one for what my parents have noticed in the past three months, and one for what they've noticed all my life (titled Lifetime).

What I've noticed in the past three months is that my mental health has been horrible. My Lexapro isn't doing its job as well anymore (I've been on it for years), so the doctor mentioned putting me on something different that would help both my anxiety and my weight, since I'm underweight. I don't know why—I eat a lot—but it's difficult for me to cross 100 lbs.—always has been. But I am only 5'1. Nonetheless, according to Mom and Dad, I was severely malnourished in the orphanage and was in a low percentile.

Speaking of which, these past few weeks have also made me overly curious about what the true story is with my birth mother. Russia's economy, at the time I was adopted, was terrible, especially in the Ivanovo area. Almost 50% of children were born with disabilities, FAS being the most common. I guess I was in that unlucky half, unlike my younger brother, whom we also adopted from Russia a year after me. There's a chance that the trauma I faced in the orphanage altered my mental health, but the doctor is still figuring that out. Considering that cerebral palsy is a brain injury, a piece of me wonders if I was deprived of oxygen when I was born. I'll probably never know, though.

I finish bubbling my responses, sit back, and hold the booklet in front of my face. I spend the next five minutes studying everything and ensuring I posted my most honest answers. Trouble with eye contact? Almost always. Would I rather be by myself than with others? Almost always. Do I have intense hobbies? Almost always—they come and go in phases. For example, I'll be in a writing phase for a while, then a reading phase, then a video game phase, etc. My brain never shuts off. It runs twenty-four hours a day. Am I considered odd? Yes, highly. This is very true of my school experience. People always treated me differently, especially in college. The girls in the dorm wouldn't allow me to sit on the couch to watch TV—they said it was reserved for the dog. They always gave me weird looks, and I never knew why. My 7th-grade math/homeroom teacher hated me, too, and a boy harassed me in 9th grade (he would tug my hair). But again, I never knew why.

Hopefully, these tests will answer some questions. ADHD makes sense, because my dad has ADHD, and I'm way closer to him than my mom. I wonder now if it's because we both have ADHD. Autism also frequently overlaps with my learning disorder. It's understandable, too, since the doctor before the one I'm seeing now mentioned sensory concerns. While I don't want it to be true, I wouldn't be surprised if it is. The test on October 19th will, hopefully, confirm if I'm autistic. Whatever happens that day, and whatever we learn by the end of this month or in early November, I only hope I have the strength to cope.

And show those people who bullied me that I deserve a chance, too.

End of Part One!: Who Am I?

Current Word Count: 3,740