Well, here's my story.

Well, here's my story.

I don't know where to start. I am an 18 year-old senior at a technical high school. I have Asperger's. My father is gone. I feel worthless.

From a young age I knew I was different. I was considered an intelligent boy but I did not know how to interact. I would much rather sit around and read than talk with anyone. I did not know how to converse. I did not have the work ethic and attention span usually to do actual schoolwork, but tests kept showing that I was just slacking. In my eyes it bored me, it was too easy. Why do work when it won't teach you anything? When the time came to choose a high school, I chose the vocational option - it was compressed academics and then shop. I could not resist the chance to learn something practical. But above all else? It let me start with a (mostly) new set of people. I could try and make friends without the 9 year tarnish on my reputation.

I chose Internet as my vocation because it was where I belonged. Each day in shop, I would spend half my mornings programming and my afternoons networking - I could barely keep my head above water when it came to the latter. I wanted to put the effort in but I was just incapable. It was hard, but programming was easy. Something about the way my mind works. I don't get that often. Everything to a formula, right? Everything structured and logical. The mindset required to program was the mindset I possessed from birth. I kept pace with the best students and I didn't even feel like I was working.

My father was a programmer. He was diagnosed with Stage 3 Lung Cancer in March of 2014. When I went to see him at the assisted living home, I would often tell him about all the good work I was doing. How great it was to actually find something I was good at, something that made me feel useful. I finally had my work ethic and I could tell that he was proud of what I was accomplishing. I knew he was.

He passed away in January 2015. The official prognosis was for six months. He proved the doctors wrong - my father made it to the 16th, eleven days before his 50th birthday. Enough time for one more Father’s Day, everyone’s birthday and Christmas. It was hard, that much I could be certain of. For a long time I couldn't feel optimistic about anything, and I could not be happy for anyone. It was not fair. It was an unsolved equation, a problem with no solution. But I kept with my work. It was the only thing I felt I knew. I could make him proud.

Nearly three years I spent programming. I began to feel content, happy even. Each morning in Junior year I would program next to my best friend - we would bounce ideas off of each other and see what we could get working. It was fun to make things, and when something worked? Wizardry. I looked forward to school. I looked forward to working and to being productive. I looked forward to seeing my friend.

It was nearing the end of my junior year and it was finally time that the companies were going to start hiring us from shop. Of particular interest to me was IBM. They hired from the school each year, and I knew of this since I picked up programming. I was so happy. I would get to have a job, I would have purpose in what I did for others. I would get to work, doing something I loved. Doing the one thing I knew I was good at. The money was tertiary.

When the time came for my shop teacher to send out resumes, I could barely contain my excitement. IBM said they would like to interview me and two other people for the co-op position of a Programming Intern who worked with Watson. I was overjoyed. I had heard of Watson before. Watson was an AI. AI had always interested me: practically, morally and philosophically. Watson was important. I wanted to work with something important. It was my dream job. Not money, purpose. A chance to make my father proud.

I went to the interview with a hard knot in my stomach but ecstatic at the same time. Many of my shopmates were there (including my best friend from earlier) and we were all encouraging each other. It was a fun but stressful few hours. I toured the company as would a child tour a candy store. My heart must have shown through in the interview, because according to them I would have gotten the job.

I would have gotten the job.

IBM hired everyone they said they would, save for me. Though this goes without saying, I was heartbroken and still am. I did everything right. The reason they could not hire me was due to management error - there was no one currently available to train me. The thing that really ended me, though? Two months later, there was need for a new programming intern. They gave this position to an employed shopmate who had never even interviewed for it.

I had done this for nothing. All of it.

Three years. Programming in the morning, keeping my head above water in the afternoon. Nothing. That's what it came to. Asperger's sucks. This was my plan, and my plan changed. I can't adjust. Now, shop weeks take an eternity. Busywork in the morning, busywork in the afternoon. I am not good at any of it. I want my friend back. I want to work, doing something I love. I want to make my father proud.

I did everything right. I did everything right. A mantra.

TL;DR: I didn't get my dream job due to factors completely outside my control, and I feel like I've let my deceased father down.

What motivated me to write this? Therapy. I don't want to bother my friends anymore with this because I don't want them to feel guilty. I just can't take it any more. Today in school, they were talking about their respective jobs and were showing their employee cards and I just wanted to cry. I think they caught on because they looked over at me and just sort of just stopped talking.

UPDATE: Thank you all so much for your support. Know that you've made me feel really special and a bit better. I'm going to head off to sleep now so I can try and face tomorrow with a smile, but thank you for reading my story which has no right being as long as it is.