Behavioural / Habitual
I've always had trouble sleeping, insomnia still plagues me in my adults life from time-to-time, I believe it's a combination of the apparent curse of the left-handed / creatively minded and my ASD traits, or maybe something else?...I recall taking 2 - 3 hours to sleep the night before school...maybe I was anxious about the social / large crowds, being in public? I would impulsively lift my head off the pillow then drop it down again, this repetitive act seemed to soothe me and help me sleep, eventually. As I got older, certain events that troubled me, or just simply a running “DJ” of music I’ve heard throughout the day, would run through my head like an uncontrollable jukebox, and sometimes I rerun scenarios I’ve been a part of, and reciting them but with alternative / desired outcomes, wishing I didn’t do / say that cringe-worthy thing.
I can vividly recall the flashing and colourful images of moving spiders and blinking eyes upon waking up, particularly when being woken up from a bad dream / nightmare, strobing until my vision corrected itself. In the mornings I would fill the sink with hot water and submerge my hands in it, this was also soothing for me…why? I have no idea…
I seemed to have developed an obsession with making things fall from a height, I used to drop / throw things (usually different types of paper because it would have the least consequence) from our home windows when we lived on the top (4th) floor in the said estate. I don’t know what it was / is, but I got great satisfaction from knowing what would happen if something fell from such a height and hit the floor…I’ve often found impulsive thoughts of something more detrimental / morbid creeping in, like throwing my keys, phone or even a baby I happened to be holding, over a balcony and into the Thames! To this day, I’m always throwing things down on the bed, sofa, etc. around the house where possible, rather than simply putting them down
For as long as I can remember, I’ve never liked people staring (at me), whether it be people I know, live with, or complete strangers. It would trigger my inside voice / other personality and bring out a demeaning / sceptical nature…I think it’s the fact of not knowing what they’re thinking that mainly bothers me, with my negative experiences of being racially abused and bullied, I automatically assume it’s race-related. Since doing CBT I’ve learned to challenge those thoughts and keep an open mind as to why strangers might stare, but I bet I’m not too far from my initial synopsis…after all, it’s no secret (well at least not to those at the receiving end of it) how institutionally and systematically racist the world is. Nowadays I assume the less harmful; people are nosey or are attracted in some way by what they’re gazing at, whether they’re staring at me or someone else, lie on public transport for instance.
The idea of being social, terrified me, I remember one specific time, we had to go to a Christening or Wedding reception, my mother would encourage me to mingle with the other k**s and make friends, I grabbed onto her leg and wouldn’t let go…until I felt ready to leave her side / interact. This feeling of not wanting to socialize stays with me to this day, just not in such a severe way…in my teens I would always find an excuse to not join the boys on a night out…or if I did end up joining them, it took me forever to stop being a wallflower and mingle / dance, but once I did, I couldn’t stop! Even opening the front door to go to secondary school would make me perspire, body odour was just another easy excuse for being targeted / bullied at school / work, on top of my skinny, tall and goofy appearance with clothes hanging off me…I was an obvious target for bullies at school and college, I spoke with a shaky voice / nervous disposition, when I decided it was OK to speak that is. I still don’t like being in large crowds and feel extremely uncomfortable being the centre of attention…I remember at my 18th birthday party, I broke down in tears and grabbed my mother and said I wasn’t ready to be an adult, the daunting responsibilities coming my way horrified me! That may seem like a contradiction to the part where I said I loved the responsibility, but I think it’s more about the anxiety of becoming independent from my mother…not that we had any plans of me moving out, we got on like a house on fire the vast majority of the time, so she was in no rush to throw me out.
Speaking of which, I’ve always been a giver…I’m not sure if it’s because I have the need to be liked / admired, or needing approval / acceptance but I love to show off my creative talents in the way of giving / offering my artwork…when my business was running, I used to give the client more than they bargained for. This can end up in one of two ways; people love my generosity and return with genuine business, or they see my kindness as a weakness and attempt to take advantage. I’ve always had this thing about saving / wasting time, always revelled in multi-tasking, naturally faced-paced (verbally and physically) and always performing tasks efficiently to the point of obsession, for example, I can’t stop at a simple cleaning task, I would then find a way to use whatever I had in my hand to find other things to clean. Going back to my c***dhood, I remember always fixating on the bath tiles and using my bath / shower water to clean them (whether they needed it or not).
In my younger years under my mother’s parenting, I would sometimes wake in the middle of the night and take something from the fridge to eat / drink…I also recall stealing the odd pound coin from my mother’s purse – sorry mum! I’m not sure when it started, but I became obsessed with genitalia…I remember lifting a girl’s skirt in **************, and my mother gave me a hiding once I got home as it was reported to her by the school. I would draw life-sized naked bodies of both genders, in chalk on the floor of my estate…I probably drew them elsewhere too.
I’ve always liked tactility, I’m not sure why but I’m always reaching out to touch someone on the arm, shoulder, etc. just as a gesture of endearment…but this has gone against me sometimes, as I discovered that not all people like to be touched or have their space invaded if I was to get too close to them, it happened at a work placement while in Cheltenham, where I rushed to greet that lady I was replacing for her maternity leave, I slowly went to touch her bump while she was in conversation with a colleague, she briskly slapped my hand, this made me storm off and return to work…this can come off as seeming immature, but more importantly, inappropriate as I don’t know her personally, but felt it was OK as we spent time together while she was training me…obviously it wasn’t! I love bodily contact, it doesn’t have to be sexual…having said that, I find that every time there’s a new female around me, I get distracted and have notions of “wanting to help them” by giving them my sexual acts…weird, I know – I’m just glad I have this level of self-awareness to be able to recognise and do independently do something about it! Even while typing this, I’m looking for inconsistencies in my typing, making sure there’s a space either side of slashes (“/”) hyphens and (“-“), for example...not to mention the probable over usage of parentheses ("( )") and ellipses ("...").
I can vividly recall the flashing and colourful images of moving spiders and blinking eyes upon waking up, particularly when being woken up from a bad dream / nightmare, strobing until my vision corrected itself. In the mornings I would fill the sink with hot water and submerge my hands in it, this was also soothing for me…why? I have no idea…
I seemed to have developed an obsession with making things fall from a height, I used to drop / throw things (usually different types of paper because it would have the least consequence) from our home windows when we lived on the top (4th) floor in the said estate. I don’t know what it was / is, but I got great satisfaction from knowing what would happen if something fell from such a height and hit the floor…I’ve often found impulsive thoughts of something more detrimental / morbid creeping in, like throwing my keys, phone or even a baby I happened to be holding, over a balcony and into the Thames! To this day, I’m always throwing things down on the bed, sofa, etc. around the house where possible, rather than simply putting them down
For as long as I can remember, I’ve never liked people staring (at me), whether it be people I know, live with, or complete strangers. It would trigger my inside voice / other personality and bring out a demeaning / sceptical nature…I think it’s the fact of not knowing what they’re thinking that mainly bothers me, with my negative experiences of being racially abused and bullied, I automatically assume it’s race-related. Since doing CBT I’ve learned to challenge those thoughts and keep an open mind as to why strangers might stare, but I bet I’m not too far from my initial synopsis…after all, it’s no secret (well at least not to those at the receiving end of it) how institutionally and systematically racist the world is. Nowadays I assume the less harmful; people are nosey or are attracted in some way by what they’re gazing at, whether they’re staring at me or someone else, lie on public transport for instance.
The idea of being social, terrified me, I remember one specific time, we had to go to a Christening or Wedding reception, my mother would encourage me to mingle with the other k**s and make friends, I grabbed onto her leg and wouldn’t let go…until I felt ready to leave her side / interact. This feeling of not wanting to socialize stays with me to this day, just not in such a severe way…in my teens I would always find an excuse to not join the boys on a night out…or if I did end up joining them, it took me forever to stop being a wallflower and mingle / dance, but once I did, I couldn’t stop! Even opening the front door to go to secondary school would make me perspire, body odour was just another easy excuse for being targeted / bullied at school / work, on top of my skinny, tall and goofy appearance with clothes hanging off me…I was an obvious target for bullies at school and college, I spoke with a shaky voice / nervous disposition, when I decided it was OK to speak that is. I still don’t like being in large crowds and feel extremely uncomfortable being the centre of attention…I remember at my 18th birthday party, I broke down in tears and grabbed my mother and said I wasn’t ready to be an adult, the daunting responsibilities coming my way horrified me! That may seem like a contradiction to the part where I said I loved the responsibility, but I think it’s more about the anxiety of becoming independent from my mother…not that we had any plans of me moving out, we got on like a house on fire the vast majority of the time, so she was in no rush to throw me out.
Speaking of which, I’ve always been a giver…I’m not sure if it’s because I have the need to be liked / admired, or needing approval / acceptance but I love to show off my creative talents in the way of giving / offering my artwork…when my business was running, I used to give the client more than they bargained for. This can end up in one of two ways; people love my generosity and return with genuine business, or they see my kindness as a weakness and attempt to take advantage. I’ve always had this thing about saving / wasting time, always revelled in multi-tasking, naturally faced-paced (verbally and physically) and always performing tasks efficiently to the point of obsession, for example, I can’t stop at a simple cleaning task, I would then find a way to use whatever I had in my hand to find other things to clean. Going back to my c***dhood, I remember always fixating on the bath tiles and using my bath / shower water to clean them (whether they needed it or not).
In my younger years under my mother’s parenting, I would sometimes wake in the middle of the night and take something from the fridge to eat / drink…I also recall stealing the odd pound coin from my mother’s purse – sorry mum! I’m not sure when it started, but I became obsessed with genitalia…I remember lifting a girl’s skirt in **************, and my mother gave me a hiding once I got home as it was reported to her by the school. I would draw life-sized naked bodies of both genders, in chalk on the floor of my estate…I probably drew them elsewhere too.
I’ve always liked tactility, I’m not sure why but I’m always reaching out to touch someone on the arm, shoulder, etc. just as a gesture of endearment…but this has gone against me sometimes, as I discovered that not all people like to be touched or have their space invaded if I was to get too close to them, it happened at a work placement while in Cheltenham, where I rushed to greet that lady I was replacing for her maternity leave, I slowly went to touch her bump while she was in conversation with a colleague, she briskly slapped my hand, this made me storm off and return to work…this can come off as seeming immature, but more importantly, inappropriate as I don’t know her personally, but felt it was OK as we spent time together while she was training me…obviously it wasn’t! I love bodily contact, it doesn’t have to be sexual…having said that, I find that every time there’s a new female around me, I get distracted and have notions of “wanting to help them” by giving them my sexual acts…weird, I know – I’m just glad I have this level of self-awareness to be able to recognise and do independently do something about it! Even while typing this, I’m looking for inconsistencies in my typing, making sure there’s a space either side of slashes (“/”) hyphens and (“-“), for example...not to mention the probable over usage of parentheses ("( )") and ellipses ("...").
3年前
