Not a stimmer ?

When you get to our age to self-identify, I reckon it is almost inevitable that we may not fully register the full significance of a few of our own ways. (But you could also just be different, in a group of people who are all different.)

I went around for a long time after my self-ID, believing I wasn't really a stimmer; even though a whole load of people obviously found some of my habits somewhat unsavory. Nail biting, skin-picking and touching the face; all things that are somewhat frowned upon in COVID times. (Lock-down seems to be a good opportunity to me to do something constructive about it.)

There have always have been numerous ways in which people decide that they would rather not 'work' with you. I vividly remember a teacher who would often bark at me,"Stop that fiddling, boy!". It was a kind of scholastic terrorism, really! ;-) That  haunted me for decades, and then one day recently I realised what was annoying him ( and others). OK, it doesn't automatically seem dramatic enough behaviour to warrant giving it a neologism. But not all stims appear to be that eccentric; especially if we are quite accomplished at masking. I actually revel in my typicality most of the time.

But I also rediscovered a photo from about 5 years earlier that showed me engaging in some behaviour which was just a bit more overt. And it helps that I can still remember quite a lot of my own thoughts at that time. I can remember basically thinking,"Why am I acting like this?" I was obviously conscious that my actions at that time might have been 'fun', but they were hardly likely to endear me to either the other in-laws present or to anyone subsequently browsing the photo album. I stiil find that photo hugely embarrassing; even though I wasn't doing anything remotely anti-social. So I suppose that was the point at which I started to suppress my stims; or at least hide them under somewhat more conventional nervous habits. And if I look at more recent photos (or a mirror), there is still something in my face that I still associate with the stim photo, and brings it all back. It seems almost like a mild chronic form of PTSD. ;-)

When you get to our age to self-identify, I reckon it is almost inevitable that we may not fully register the full significance of a few of our own ways. (But you could also just be different, in a group of people who are all different.)

I went around for a long time after my self-ID, believing I wasn't really a stimmer; even though a whole load of people obviously found some of my habits somewhat unsavory. Nail biting, skin-picking and touching the face; all things that are somewhat frowned upon in COVID times. (Lock-down seems to be a good opportunity to me to do something constructive about it.)

There have always have been numerous ways in which people decide that they would rather not 'work' with you. I vividly remember a teacher who would often bark at me,"Stop that fiddling, boy!". It was a kind of scholastic terrorism, really! ;-) That  haunted me for decades, and then one day recently I realised what was annoying him ( and others). OK, it doesn't automatically seem dramatic enough behaviour to warrant giving it a neologism. But not all stims appear to be that eccentric; especially if we are quite accomplished at masking. I actually revel in my typicality most of the time.

But I also rediscovered a photo from about 5 years earlier that showed me engaging in some behaviour which was just a bit more overt. And it helps that I can still remember quite a lot of my own thoughts at that time. I can remember basically thinking,"Why am I acting like this?" I was obviously conscious that my actions at that time might have been 'fun', but they were hardly likely to endear me to either the other in-laws present or to anyone subsequently browsing the photo album. I stiil find that photo hugely embarrassing; even though I wasn't doing anything remotely anti-social. So I suppose that was the point at which I started to suppress my stims; or at least hide them under somewhat more conventional nervous habits. And if I look at more recent photos (or a mirror), there is still something in my face that I still associate with the stim photo, and brings it all back. It seems almost like a mild chronic form of PTSD. ;-)