I just signed up here and thought I should give an intro/history. I don't have a diagnosis but have been meaning to get around to making it "official." I'll get around it to some time but I just don't like phones and speaking on them.
Anyway, here's the history:
Starting right at the beginning it was apparent that not everything was as it should be. I was born much to early and tipped the scales at barely 5 pounds. This was attributed to my mother’s chain smoking of cigarettes and drug use during her pregnancy with me.
I was a fussy, inconsolable baby that couldn’t have regular formula and didn't start walking steadily until I was almost 2 years old. I couldn’t be left alone with anyone. I would scream. Even grandparents were completely unacceptable.
By the time I was 5 I refused eye contact with everyone. Parents included. I would cling to them out of terror in the presence of other people yet couldn't face them. I had to avoid even their faces.
I screamed when the vacuum was on, and not just whining either. Full out fits while holding my hands over my ears or burying my face in the couch and throwing my self around wildly sometimes almost passing out from screaming. I was much to rough with small animals so I didn't have pets. I couldn’t wear jeans because they reportedly were much to stiff and I was terrified because they would “freeze” if I wore them outside when it was cold. I could only wear stretchy legging-like pants. There were two instances where I recall wearing jeans; once to go horseback riding and the disdain on my face is present in every single photograph and also when my family received an emergency phone call to meet at a hospital because my aunt had a stroke (there was no time to wait for the laundry so I had to wear jeans).
I was placed in special education starting with 1st grade and remained there and also on Ritalin until I was 13.
I refused to use the names of teachers. I remember the first time I had to say my kindergarten teacher's name. A prop tree in the room had fallen onto me and it was pinning me to the floor. I didn't call teachers by their names until high school.
I listened to music repetitively, literally listening to the same song over and over for hours on end without ever tiring. My parents still can’t stand to listen to the Disney song “Kiss the Girl” performed by Little Texas because they bought me a “country sings Disney” cassette tape as a gift and I hauled my little Fischer Price tape player around with that song going all day long with the only respite coming when I had to rewind it.
However, the most startling feature was my complete disinterest and indifference to punishment, my love of anger in other people, and complete lack of empathy for injured class/playmates or animals. I would laugh in my parents’ face when being punished and was genuinely happy, and smiled when they were angry. Any living thing I witnessed receiving an injury was funny.
I only had a few friends in school and they were quick to point out that I was indeed very mean which I happily agreed with because their words meant nothing to me. I didn't care.
When I got in trouble and was banished to my room I carved things into the walls with whatever I could get my hands on, and would also carefully turn every item that had a face (like stuffed animals or photos) around so nothing was "looking" at me.
I got calls home from school often. They were usually to inform my parents; "No, she didn't say a whole word all day again." or "She got up in the middle of class and started making animal sounds.. Yes, the humpback whale sounds again." or my favorite "She read the dictionary during reading time and refused to stop when reading time was over." That was 3rd grade. I had a voracious, unquenchable desire to smell things. Particularly plastic and paper. I was obsessed with napkins and the highlight of any trip to grandma’s was when I got to pick out a napkin from the napkin drawer, which was where they stored all their leftover holiday themed napkins, or when I got take a few squares of colored toilet paper (I have never seen blue toilet paper again). My other loves were Saran wrap and new notebooks, paperbacks, or magazines. It was all for the smell but the sound a paperback book makes when squished (like the letter “S” over and over) was also very pleasurable. I still adore all of those things today besides napkins. I had an extremely complex bedtime routine which included straightening the blankets and sometimes redoing the entire bed 10-20 times. Then I would lay down but usually have to get up again another 10-20 times because I had done it "wrong." Once that was taken care of I would normally get again another dozen times to check my door, to see that I was wearing clothes, go to the bathroom, flip the lights on and off and then take a mouthful of water and swallow it only after I crawled back in bed. When that part was over it was time to pray. My hands had to join in a certain way or else it was out of bed to do it ALL over. Including the checking and light switch flipping. If I prayed something in the wrong order, do over. It sometimes took over an hour. I also had to kick my wall to sort of "finish" the ritual.
I somehow started to come around a little in junior high. Things sort of clicked more and high school was basically normal for me.
Today, I still find eye contact offensive and very difficult to maintain and won't use it if I can help it. I am very much a loner too, I even went to a concert by myself last year. I wear earplugs when I vacuum and still get sort of a silly feeling when I see people getting angry. I'm very much the same but can defer and diffuse as needed. I still adore the sound of plastic being crinkled, especially cellophane or plastic lunch bags. And paper and books for their smell and I also have recently discovered that I like to hold bottles of pills next to my ear and turn them over and over gently.
And that's where I'm at today.
01 Oct 2012, 6:15 am
