I lived in the middle of nowhere. Literally, it was 3.5 hours to the edge of a metropolitan city. I felt like I had a breakdown at work, after which I was mumbling to myself and shaking just a little while out at the grocery store. I could just see how avoidable I looked to everyone else there. Yet, I couldn’t stop it. It took two weeks to get a therapist appointment. The only one in my town wasn’t taking new patients. The one the next town over wasn’t taking new patients, but had another therapist working under the same company name from 2 hours further over that came to town a couple of times a month.
This guys was able to tell I was autistic in one session. Though he didn’t know what to do with me.
Also published on Medium.