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I don't know why I feel the need to share this, maybe it's because it's been on my mind and it's 2:41 am and it's currently the "time is sludge... Again" part of the insomniac experience, but I want to talk about this. (This talks about my experience with happy stimming under the cut)
It was several years ago when I saw this comic of someone's happy stimming. She, like, waves her arms around and builds up this lovely yellow hue, and it's sparkly and then she expels all of it as at once and- it's truly a wonderful comic. I don't know where it is now. But it really captures the right feeling. And it was so cool... But I was kind of... I feel bad using strong words like "mortified" but that's the best way to say it.
Because Stimming was one of the many, MANY things I have in common with our lovely autistic community. And we're entering a world where people are starting to be able to be who we are and act how we feel, and I knew from the moment I saw it, that something was wrong. I didn't have a happy stim.
Most people who stim are forced to stop because humans are so bad at appreciating the abnormal, and that never happened to me. I'm lucky! But I didn't have a happy stim. And I knew I was supposed to. I immediately knew that. Knew it about me, me as a person. I knew it. There was a hole in me that was taken and I didn't know why! And it was terrifying.
And I kept thinking, And and I kept digging.
I knew about physical stims. With your hands and your feet and your hair. Most of my stims were those. I'd bounce my leg under a table, I tap the pads of my fingers together with my thumb if I was a specific kind of anxious, I move the bones in my wrists back to where they're supposed to be to try and fix things instinctually.
All of those were to get less anxious though. And my mother was always so open to things like that. So willing to learn about every diagnosis and piece of information that needed researching.
I knew about vocal stims. While most people were forced to stop for more crummy society reasons, that wasn't the case for me. I just... Didn't have any? I enjoy talking, I enjoy singing but they weren't... That comic. They didn't have the yellow feel-good-ness. They didn't have The thing.
I like swinging on swingsets. The momentum is nice. I think that counts as a stim but I usually did it to help, wouldn't-cha know it, anxiety. Help me sleep at night. It wasn't the thing.
In my house, you didn't listen to songs on repeat. My mother would lose it. You didn't loop songs in the car, it'd drive her batty. She'd probably have a panic attack. So I never thought of it as a thing? It didn't occur to me. When I got my own pair of headphones, I wouldn't drive her crazy by listening to anything on loop, I could go forever if I wanted. But I didn't. It wasn't a thing and I was apprehensive about it, that's not a thing we do. Don't to it. Even when my mind got loud about playing things on loop, I tried not to let it overcome me. That's not a thing. People don't do that. And I'd long since settled with the dismal answer of never knowing what the stim was. I hadn't even thought of checking because sounds like asmr hurt like sandpaper on my brain.
But recently, I don't know, something changed? I reeeally needed to hear this song again. So I went to the instrumental. And it was great there. I went to the vocal only, it was just the goodest sound. I went to covers and back and eventually I just let it play. I really let it smoosh into my head and memorized the instruments and felt them. It was like following a groove in a table by tracing your finger across it. It was just. The thing. I actually lost sleep because I was enjoying myself so much. I was so happy!
I talked with my mother about it. "I dunno, I really really wanted to hear that song over and over? it has a BAGPIPE in the second verse! Who wouldn't want to hear that!?"
"yeah, I could never do that. I guess my misophonia is too strong for that."
It was so eye opening. Misophonia. It was her misophonia, she'd never used that word before. And it hit me like a ton of bricks. Listening to this song on loop isn't bad, it's just a me thing.
And that's when I realized that I'd found the thing. I'd finally found my happy stim. I've decided to not cry about it, but this was such wonderful news. It's needlessly specific, and I don't know why my kid mind had labed "no looping" as Gospel? I mean there's a button for it and everything. But it's my thing.
I may never have some visible stim that people will see but I have my thing and I'm so beyond society possibly judging me.
I am on ADD meds, have overstimulation issues, anxiety, truly frightening physical disabilities I fight all beneath the surface. And I play the songs that have the thing about them on loop for five hours at a time. And I think I love me for it.
Whoever you are, you're you. You're more you than anyone else. That is something beautiful. You like Fanfic, go for it! You like art? Go for it! You like flapping your hands? Go for it! You like judging Disney for its questionable decisions as of late? Try not to kill them too much. They only mostly deserve it.
Being you is a gift that you should cherish, and reward yourself by being you. Not someone else.
For those that read this whole thing, the song in question is I've Had Enough of You from Billie Bust Up, a video game musical that's currently in development. Listen to all the stuff that's out so far, every song I've heard knocks it out of the park. Listen to it on loop if you want! I think we've established that listening to songs on loop does not, in fact, summon Satan.
Happy Stimming! (why does that sound like a holiday now?)