Stimming

Note: I’ve elected to start with discussing some aspects of the criteria for diagnosis in the DSM-5, out of convenience, before branching out to less medicalized/deficit-based facets of the conversation. Please don’t take this to mean that I think the DSM criteria are the most accurate or complete explanation of the autistic experience, nor is this a complete discussion of those criteria.

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Another one of the perhaps better-known features of autism is mentioned in criterion B-1: “stereotyped or repetitive motor movements, use of objects, or speech.” So, let’s talk about stimming.

See here for a quick introduction to stimming, if you’re not sure what it means.

A common refrain in the neurodivergent community is that “everybody stims.” It can be as simple as fiddling with your pen when you’re bored in a meeting or sniffing a scented candle. But it can be more frequent and noticeable, and serve a somewhat different purpose, especially in autistic people or those with ADHD.

While some stimming can be harmful,¹ it is often the opposite – beneficial for self-regulation and the maintenance of good mental health. There is some evidence that suppressing stims can be actively detrimental to one’s wellbeing.

I think there’s some overlap between sensory sensitivities (criterion B-4) and this one.² Stimming can be triggered by sensory overload, or it can involve sensory seeking behaviour. 

My most obvious stims are probably fidgeting with a Nee Doh Dream Drop whenever I’m on a call (or a fidget attached to my purse when I’m out), and swaying or rocking. But my stims also include things like tracing the edges of my fingernails, a sort of forceful expulsion of air from the diaphragm that I do on repeat to settle myself, very occasional hand flapping, and singing/humming/whistling lines of Christmas songs or nursery rhymes on repeat. Singing features pretty broadly, actually, as I consider that singing in the shower or the car, or at any other stressful time, fulfils the same purpose.

I also get a lot of joy out of watching certain moving lights, listening to certain soundscapes,³ and seeing water moving. It’s a bit hard to explain, but this joy is somewhat akin to the sense of awe you might experience seeing wild animals doing something amazing.⁴ This is something that not everyone seems to experience, and I don’t have the best words to put around it. It may be a concept I try to revisit at a later date.

I got the message early on that stimming is not always welcome, which caused me to move largely to less visible ones, even in private. Recently I’ve been giving myself permission to stim more freely, at least when I’m alone, but I still find myself, without thinking about it, trying to keep my body very still most of the time when I’m out in public.⁵ I sometimes wonder how much it contributes to the sense of insecurity that arises when I’m outside my home.

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¹ That is to say, causing physical injury.

² Actually, I don’t think any of the diagnostic criteria are without some overlap with others.

³ Thank you, MyNoise, for saving my sanity.

⁴ See Lily Alexandre’s amazing video about murmurations here.

⁵ This is A MAJOR PROBLEM onstage. My performance has over the years become pretty visually boring because of this subconscious effort to stay still.⁶

⁶ I’m working on it!

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1. AUTISM IN MY LIFE
2. SOCIAL-EMOTIONAL RECIPROCITY
3. NONVERBAL COMMUNICATIVE BEHAVIOURS
4. RELATIONSHIPS
5. STIMMING ← you are here!