"I'd be curious to know what you made of those questions/the test itself."
-- Curious readerThere are loads of problems with it. There are with pretty much all psychological questionnaires. The main issue is distinguishing the subject's internal experience from the way the subject is actually acting from the way other people perceive the subject. An awful lot of psych disorders boil down to "one of these things is not like the others", and figuring those out is difficult at best.
Questions regarding social functioning are especially tricky. The answer varies a lot with the exact phrasing. I have the same problem with informal tests for things like narcissism, where my score swings from "perfectly normal" to "Lex Luthor" depending on whether they ask me if I think it's the just and correct natural order of things that I be in charge of the entire universe (fuck no) or just whether I wind up in charge of things a lot anyway (all the time). I, and my giant bag of opinions, have a limited amount of control over how other people perceive me, and virtually no control over what they do about it.
In my case, going over the test, I'm pretty sure the reason I land squarely on the borderline is because when they ask me if I like and feel competent interacting with other humans, I say yes, and when they ask me if I prefer to be by myself most of the time, I also say yes. It breaks their scoring scale, which is constructed on the premise that people who like other people want to be around them all the time, and that people who want to be alone a lot feel that way because other people make them deeply uncomfortable. They're often linked, but not always, and for me at least it's a spurious correlation. I do like people, but I really am happiest when I spend most of my time sitting in a room staring at a computer screen.
I expect that why I go thunk on the autistic end of the scale on a lot of questions is a combination of the pareidolia, the weird thinking patterns, and the fact that when I've had too much people-ing I don't just want to go home, I have a complete fucking breakdown. If I'm trapped out of my burrow past the point where I've had enough, I lose my ability to be a functional civilized human being. Manners go by the wayside PDQ, and it takes a lot of effort to not be a raging bitch to anyone who talks to me, because I vehemently want them to go away before I overload and short out completely. If I still can't get out, my back knots up and my head starts to hurt, and I start hunching over with my shoulders jammed into my ears, trying to stare at a wall or a desk or a computer screen or something else that doesn't mind being glared at. If I still can't get out, I start losing stuff like my ability to make decisions. Not just big decisions, stupid little ones, too. Moggie has seen me curl up in my chair with my hands fisted in my hair and wail I DON'T KNOW and sincerely mean it when asked something innocuous like what I want on my pizza.
I'm similar when I'm sick, or when I've just woken up. People who live with me learn not to talk to me or ask questions when I've first shuffled out of my room for the day. There's no point -- I'm outright hostile, and I can't answer coherently anyway.
I assume this is a weird thing about me because of the trouble I have in getting it across to other people. It's not weird for me; I live in this head, and it's always looked like this in here. My parents, at various points in my life, liked to try to train me to get up early and come out and be sociable like a normal human while I was out of school for the summer; it pretty much made me want to stab myself in the eye the entire time, just for a change of pace, so I dug in my heels and refused to cooperate. No amount of observing how other people act and trying to keep myself calm while doing that has ever worked, so I decided to hell with it. People who can't cope with my hermitage don't really make good in-person friends for me.
On a happier note, the fact that I don't feel disconnected from people even if I'm not staring at them means that Moggie is still my Watson even though I'm 2500 miles away now, and can't drag her to the grocery store at 11:30pm because we both forgot to eat and nobody wants ramen. She and I are apparently very interesting together, if you pay attention. I've no idea how she's managed to make it eight years without outright strangling me, but I'm glad she has, because I'd probably be dead now without her.