My Spazzing and Me: Part One

How goes it, my dear reader?  I hope it goes according to how you desire it to go.  Today, I’m just going to write a hopefully quick blurb about stimming, why I call it my spazzing, and why I love to do it.  First up, though, I just want to tell you that I had to people today and I peopled quite well thank you very much.  I managed to get on a bus and a train and then another bus and only got lost once I reached my actual destination.  I may tell you all about the amazing adventures I have on public transportation one day, but today, I’m going to just stick to our regular scheduled random rant.  I adore alliteration, by the by.

Anywho, on to my spazzing.  I don’t like the word stimming.  It tastes weird in my mouth, much like the word fin, pin, chartreuse, although that last one could just be because it’s a fucking ridiculous word.   Charon, my therapist, said that it seems like I don’t like a lot of labial words, but I disagree with her.  I like pop, blop, splatoosh, and such, but only in terms of onomatopoeia.  It still counts as me just being contrarian too, I know, but this is a matter of morals.  So, back on the word stimming, quick recap, I just hate the taste.  It tastes bad and has the wrong shape in my mouth and I just really really hate it.  So I call it spazzing.

Spazzing comes in all shapes and forms, which we can go further into at a later date, but just for today, I want to say this.  I have a tendency to try and hide my spazzing when I’m around non-autistic people.  I have gotten made fun of and bullied in the past for it.  Lately, I’ve tried letting some of my not so noticeable spazzings loose when I feel stressed, but I still feel different and freakish when I do.

I don’t like it when other people notice me spazzing, but I love to do it.  I can think clearer, I can move faster, and I don’t feel as stressed out by the world.  I’ve pretty much just come to the conclusion that by not spazzing, I’m doing myself irreparable damage to my psyche.  Something I should probably talk about in therapy.

Well, that’s the short intro on my spazzing, I guess.  I’m tired as all heck and I sure as fudge can’t even swear correctly right now.


The Sarcastic Autist


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