A Generation of Stimmers

I've always noticed details. Only recently, however, did it occur to me to turn my attention toward my family. Maybe I would see more of me in them than I had before.

Boy, did I ever.

Every single one of my siblings stims or has stimmed their whole life.

The oldest of us, N., stimmed for only a few years before he was restricted from it in school. But in those few years, he did a lot of it. Especially to Mom. She had sores on the corners of her lips for two years straight from where N. would pull at them while being rocked. But as soon as he stopped stimming, he couldn't concentrate. He now lets his hands move whenever he's in private, and quite often otherwise.

A. lasted longer with stimming. He would hum. And this hum was noticed by absolutely everyone. But no one stepped in or told him to stop. They didn't want to interrupt his intense concentration. So he grew up a hummer until his teenage years, when that stim disappeared. However, his hands are now ever active, so he's taken on a new favorite method of concentration.

Then came C. She had the longest-lasting single stim. For about fifteen years, she went on and on with rubbing silk cloths against her lips. Everyone teased her, but yet again, it helped her concentrate. She didn't care that she seemed strange to the rest of us. She needed it badly. Only recently has she stopped doing it in public, but her hands, like N. and A.'s, tap on any available surface.

As youngest, I am also a stimmer. I have so many different ones, it could take up a post of its own. But there is a method behind my madness--I stim to concentrate.

The next generation now stims, too. Especially A.'s son. That little kid has so much personality, so little time to shine, and stimming to put us all to shame. I wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to have some form of autism himself. But the point is, he stims. And he truly is his father's son. One Christmas, he was quietly rocking, attempting to open a present without damaging the wrapping paper. He hummed straight through his failed attempt. And his hands were loose and flapping the moment he was done.

I love that kid. But even more, I was impressed by his concentration, at two years old, opening a present.

The whole family stims to concentrate. And we're proud of that fact.