WTF is a stim?
Many months ago, when I was still really new to this whole my-son-is-autistic thing, I came across many new and exciting and confusing words. Stimming was one of them.
Stimming. To stim. A self-regulatory behaviour which consists of the repetition of physical movements, sounds, or the moving of objects. It is considered a form of self-soothing and is most prevalent in persons with developmental disabilities, most particularly in persons with autism.
Thank you, Wikipedia!
So, what is stimming? It’s toe tapping, knee bouncing, hair pulling, nail chewing, hand flapping, head shaking, pen/pencil twirling, bubble wrap popping, picking at oneself, head banging, self-slapping, toe walking, spinning on the spot, rolling or spinning something over and over again, opening and closing a cupboard door repeatedly for extended periods of time, fiddling with the trinkets on a piece of jewelry, using a fidget spinner, yelling out the same tone and holding it…you get the idea.
In most situations, stimming is pretty innocuous. It’s also very, VERY common. Like, almost everyone on the planet does it. I, for one, chew my nails, bounce my knees, and click pens. I also have a bracelet of which the string is all stretched out from all my fidgeting with the beads on it. I have a co-worker who chews on those plastic, coffee stir-sticks. It could even be argued that chewing tobacco (or gum) and smoking are also forms of stimming.
Lots of people stim. Every day, all day.
True story (a.k.a. ‘Grandpa’s “First” Stim’):
Grandpa & The Boy
One day, a few months back, when my dad was visiting, he was asking me questions about ASD and ASD family life. I was explaining different quirks we now have had to learn to deal with and stimming came up. I explained briefly what it is and why I support when others do it. We then carried on with our visit and other discussions.
A few hours later into the same visit, we were all sitting in the living room watching my son being goofy and I noticed my dad doing something he has been doing for years. You see, my dad plays the bagpipes. Honest to goodness, Scotland-the-Brave-is-my-jam-and-his-ringtone, bagpipes. When he sits for a while and is otherwise not really engaged in anything, and sometimes even when he is, he will start to “play bagpipes” with his fingers.
When I noticed this during said visit, I turned to him and said “congratulations Dad, you’re stimming”.
The look on his face … (LOL)
“I never really noticed,” he said.
“Of course not. You’re not autistic. People won’t make a deal of it because your stims aren’t as noticeable as others might be. But it’s exactly the same as when Daniel flaps his hands, walks on the tips of his toes, or spins a wheel repeatedly. It’s the way you regulate yourself from boredom or nervousness or any other kind of sensory overload or ‘underload’.”
“I never would have thought of it that way. Isn’t that neat.”
He then continued “jamming” on his thighs.
So, what’s the big stimming deal?
Why is it then, that this term is not more commonly heard or discussed outside circles dealing with persons with special needs? Clearly, it’s happening a lot and nobody really pays attention to it otherwise.
Maybe that’s why. The whole “the actions of persons with special needs are more noticeable because they themselves are more noticeable in general”. I have a theory that when people say that stimming is more “prevalent” in persons with developmental disabilities, what they actually mean is that it’s done more frequently and is more obvious.
Then again, have you ever sat in an exam hall that’s almost painfully quiet…except for that one person who is furiously tapping their pencil on the desk? That seems pretty obvious to me.
Regardless of the why/why not, stimming is a commonplace behaviour. Moreover, it’s acceptable (or should be). Think about all of those times when you were overly bored, or happy, or upset and you held those emotions inside until suddenly, you just “stimmed-out?” You regulated yourself to help handle whatever was going on around you at the time and, more importantly, you felt better.
Now imagine that you’re doing a movement stim, like toe or finger tapping. You’re really into it and then all of a sudden someone told you to stop. To stop, and not do it again. I’m betting that eventually, the urge to continue on tapping, or to perform some other form of stim, would start to press on you and may even build towards the edge of overwhelming. I am also betting that that situation likely doesn’t happen very often. This may be the case, however, for many autistic persons.
From no-stim to pro-stim
When therapists and professionals were speaking to me about behaviours my son might exhibit, stimming came up briefly. It was also mentioned that they would be working with him to diminish these behaviours in him. And I was taken slightly aback. Why? His stims aren’t really harmful. I mean, yes, the screaming-yelling, very loud, local stims I can understand why they wouldn’t be helpful in a classroom, but hand flapping? Head shaking? As long as he is able to get grips with himself and continue on with his work, I didn’t see a problem with a few stims. Especially as there is research out there showing that movement in children can help them to concentrate better and work more productively.
That was the moment I became pro-stim. Providing a person is not hurting themselves, or others, and not upsetting to a work/school setting on a whole, then I say “Keep Calm and Stim On!” In my opinion, if it’s okay for “atypical” people to stim without fanfare but for a person with autism stimming has to be stopped or “worked on” then that is a double standard. I do not appreciate double standards.
I understand the need for teaching non-disruptive methods of self-regulation and stimulation and stopping the stims that are harmful. Consider, though, the differences between sending an upset child on a break from their homework to play with their toys (or tablet), to allowing an upset child to spin a wheel for few minutes for the same reason. I don’t see the difference. Do you?
The moral of all this is that stimming is A-Okay and happening all over the place, all the time. The general consensus from persons with autism about stimming is a positive one (this is based on what I have read about online thus far). Rather than working on minimizing those behaviours, which help them to deal with already difficult situations and sensory overload, we should be helping them to recognize when a situation is becoming overwhelming and know which methods work best for them to regain self-control and “inner peace.”
I stim. You stim. He stims. She stims. We stim. They stim.
And it’s no big deal!
In 2013, my son was diagnosed with Global Developmental Delay, Sensory Processing Disorder and Autism Spectrum Disorder. The testing process took almost exactly a year so I had a pretty clear idea as to what was coming, but nothing was able to prepare me for eleven words: “Our tests conclude that your son has an Autism Spectrum Disorder.” Even though they were said in the gentlest way possible, with a look of sympathy on the developmental pediatrician’s face, the words rocked my world and changed my life forever. I cried right there in front of the doctor, who patted my back and assured me that my tears were normal. However, I felt anything but normal.
I can’t remember the first time I’d heard about autism. I know it was years before being a parent was even a notion and I know I didn’t pay it much attention or give it much thought.