Well, now that I got over the brain booger, and realized I wrote the wrong thing (kinesthesia? Where did that come from? Weird tv again?), I will relate the SYNESTHESIA thingy, though I'm not sure that's what you want now, Aylissa.
I read a dictionary definition of synesthesia somewhere, and thought,'Oh, that's nice, so that's what it's called...lalalala,' and swerved off on a mental tangent, as I am wont to do.
Last fall, meeting with friends on a Saturday, as we do every week, we had sat down, and I was focussing on my coffee, trying to ignore the racket in the place, when my friend JP was almost have a seizure in her seat.
She proceeded to tell us about this cool Canadian documentary she'd seen on this weird sensory thing called...dadum, dadum--SYNESTHESIA.
I focused in like a laser. Weird? It was weird?
She said that there are people who experience words as colors or taste and music as textures, and, and, and...
Then I was twitching around. I said I had it. They didn't have it? I thought everyone had it. ANd we spent an hour talking about how I saw words and sounds as colors, and some sounds had an overpowering taste, like oranges, or cotton candy, or cinnamon. Sometimes I'll smell different smells that I realized no-one else could smell, like crayons or roses, when neither item was in the room, yet it seemed to be related to a memory, but this isn't really synesthesia--just a strong sensory response to a recollection.
I told my therapist about the incident, and HE nearly leaped out of his chair. He started to ask very specific questions--like: did I think about my friends when they aren't around, and did I have problem with certain kinds of touch, which he already knew. There were other questions, but he didn't mention Aspergers, until I mentioned it a month or so later, when I had found the term on a website for people with Avoidant Personality Disorder (which he had later told me was a dx he considered, yet it was quite right). Then he started noting when I was stimming, and asking me what I was thinking about when I was staring off into space, and hadn't even realized I was doing it.
That was when the therapy changed, and though it was helping before, it was frustrating for him to ask what I was feeling when I had no idea. I felt like an empty shell, and any feeling was some vague whisp, but I knew something was wrong. There was a dissatisfaction, a sense there was some secret everyone had but me, and I kept searching for it. How did people get together, and have relationships? How did people know what other people seem to be thinking? And why were people constantly attributing feelings and thoughts to me that were NOT my feelings and thoughts?
And now I know. There is a secret. And I will never get it. But there are people like me, who know what I'm going through, and it's a big freaking relief to know I'm not going mad. And it breaks my heart to see these younger people going through it, because now I'm old enough to know people have different feelings and experiences, and I now have a library of experiences to rely on when I relate to people, and it kills me to see these young people in pain. I know what it is. I hate that part. And I hate that there's nothing I can do for them.
Oh, well. That's my story, and I hope we were thinking along the same lines even though I had a brain goober.
Metta, Rjaye.