I exist in the uncanny valley. I look so close to human, but people know there’s something wrong; and the closer I get to being human, the more uncomfortable they are, as they can’t pinpoint the difference between them and I. But it is still there. Untouchable, but there.
I am merely a crude simulacrum of a human - an abstracted idea of what makes one human, abstracted again from that, until even though my components are identifiable as human, my core is utterly corrupted.
Not all queers and psych patients (as the Nazis would like to call us) are like this. Some can feign some degree of normalcy. It makes us even scarier, when we are transgender and gay and ADHD and depressed in a way that simply isn’t palatable. We are not “one of the good ones”. Those that are get even more disgusted - I am a symbol of all they refuse to be.
Call yourself an Aspie, post your timelines where you pass, go to your gay bars and your mental health advocacy clubs. It doesn’t really matter to me. I gave up pretending I could live like that a long time ago.