Yay

I met a new therapist the other day. When I told them I probably wouldn't look at them much they responded "that's no problem at all, don't worry about it", and followed up with "I'm a person who tends to look at people quite a lot - does that bother you as well?"

Yay to people.

And yay to having come far enough that I am quite happy when I meet new professionals to begin with "Is it OK if I take my shoes off? Also, I probably won't look at you much. If the fire alarm goes off I will be a ball in the corner, don't worry about me. I will use a fiddle tool because it helps me. I work well in writing, with direct questions and with time to prepare my thoughts." Well, I don't reel it off quite like that - that would be a little overwhelming for them, but you get the gist!

So much less spoon wastage than trying to mask all those things because I don't feel able to say them or I'm unaware of how helpful they would be. Increasingly I take a similar approach at times in other (social or work) situations where I feel comfortable to too.

Also, how exciting that I now can actually at the beginning of therapy SAY (or write) what I hope to get from it and what I want to work on etc?! Because that is OK. And is even how it's meant to work... Yikes, all that therapy previously has finally got me to the point where I can be useful in therapy 🤣

Stimmy

I'm pretty sure when I went for a gallop after a heavy therapy session this afternoon that I raised some eyebrows. 

Sometimes I have to choose between blending in and staying regulated.* I could have chosen to remain inconspicuous and probably felt stressed and dysregulated all evening, maybe with a few meltdowns in the next day or two, and some struggles to use the right coping strategies. Instead I opted for a five minute galloped perimeter of the car park. I happened upon some beautiful crocuses and exclaimed "CROCUSES!" in a loud voice (nobody was very close!). I enjoyed that so I repeated it a few times. Stopped to take some pictures of the crocuses, resumed my gallop and tiptoed along the kerb back to my car. Tiptoes are great when I'm riding high; it's like it focuses all the sensation into a small but intensive area. I also like to spread my arms as though for balancing. They join in on the gallop too. And a few jumps interspersed for good measure.

Stimming is fun but stimming is also seriously important. 

I think stimming is one of the autistic traits most misunderstood. The word is misunderstood, the actions are misunderstood and the reasons for and importance of stimming are misunderstood. 

Let's start with the word. Basically, it's what it says on the metaphorical tin: a shortening for self-stimulatory behaviour, ie repetitive actions that give sensory feedback for the person using them.  Everybody stims: maybe you're a pen-clicker or a foot-wagger or a hair-twizzler. Stims tend to happen when people are tired or anxious or bored. They regulate our stress/arousal levels.

I don't know if it's just locally or just in childcare but I have frequently heard the term stimming used as a synonym for actions that would be sexual in adults. Of course, these can be a form of stimming, but in some places this seems to be the only meaning of the word, which becomes confusing and unhelpful when trying to talk about stimming in general. Just an aside, but it's a bit of a bugbear of mine because it can be so misleading!

Autistic people often stim more frequently, for longer, and more obviously than others. Maybe because living in a world designed for people who aren't autistic means stress levels are constantly raised. Or because sensory processing is different (the same sound/taste/smell/touch/motion/other sensation registers more strongly or weakly, perhaps with an emotional response as well). Or because the person is less aware of or less concerned with what others think. Or because they are more likely to pay attention to what their body wants (or their body is more likely to demand it!). Probably a thousand reasons.

According to the NAS (National Autistic Society) website, "stimming or self-stimulatory behaviour includes arm or hand-flapping, finger-flicking, rocking, jumping, spinning or twirling, head-banging and complex body movements. It includes the repetitive use of an object, such as flicking a rubber band or twirling a piece of string, or repetitive activities involving the senses (such as repeatedly feeling a particular texture)." 

I have little stims like rubbing my top lip with my thumbnail or pressing my thumb together with each finger in turn, medium ones like spinning my Tangle, or pulling my eyebrows, and big ones like galloping. Some I only use in certain contexts and some I only need in certain contexts. Some are for when I'm calm or contemplative, some are for when I'm wound up, and some pop up in a variety of situations.

I touched on the reasons for stimming above, but they are of course infinite. Major ones include enjoyment, to gain sensory input, to reduce sensory input and to calm and soothe stress eg from unpredictability/change/sensory overload/emotional overload. There is always a reason for stimming: even if the stim is harmful in itself (eg. hand banging or excessive skin picking) it is serving an important purpose. If the stim is not harmful there is no reason to stop it just because it is deemed "strange". If it is harmful or the person wants to stop it in order to mask (masking is risky but is chosen by many people in some circumstances, or happens unwittingly), it is vital to find another way to serve the need it was fulfilling.

When people come across someone stimming in an "unusual" way - perhaps rocking, squeaking, spinning or hand flapping - many emotions may arise. Fear of the unknown, confusion, worry about whether the person is safe or what they may do next, or even simply surprise. The more we talk about it, the more I hope that the natural response will become surprise, or perhaps even happiness that people feel comfortable enough to stim freely in our presence.

I looked odd for sure. But I was regulated after that. Five minutes of weirdo for a chilled out evening, I'll take that.

*There are increasingly spaces where this choice is less necessary, and by writing this kind of thing I hope more places become like that. As I decrease my masking I am tending to find that although I may not be inconspicuous, in some places I am still accepted and respected even when I stim. In autistic online spaces stimming is celebrated and when new "stimmy" finds are discovered they are shared to help other people. Yay to this kind of thing!

Tiny Things

When everything feels bleak around me and hope is hard to see, when I feel trapped or desperate, I often find that it is some small thing of beauty that saves me. 

A tiny unnoteworthy scrap can catch my focus and become treasure that brings a window of escape to get me through the fog or darkness. Yesterday it was a leaf that I impaled (or threaded, depending on your mood...) onto a twig. So tiny and simple, yet with infinite journeys of discovery, new every moment from every angle as it is moved in the light. Shape and shadow inviting me in and away from the heaviness in my heart. And of course my many Peggies helped at other moments.

Once before, it was a holly leaf. The group facilitator seemed slightly put out that it seemed to hold more of my attention than she did, but she didn't know that an hour or two earlier it helped to keep me alive. Thankfully I have rarely ever had suicidal impulses, but in a dark moment those spiky points, the glossy shine and the smooth edges, they absorbed me enough to get back to a place of safety. I think it's only reasonable that I dwelt with them a little longer. Staring in wonder. Entranced by the power of a single leaf. Two years later I still have that leaf, nestled in my treasure basket for mindful moments when it's needed.

I don't usually talk here about my faith, but I can't let this post pass without reflecting that of course, it is not the little things that save me, it is their maker. He offers them in my moments of need and he holds me in his hand through darkness and light, and the darkness is not dark to him. But through the little things, he saves me over and over again as he has saved me once and for all and given me the only true hope that endures after all suffering.

Also note: this song "Tiny Things" by Yvonne Lyon