I was wondering what to write about today. It’s not as though today has been uneventful but more that what I have experienced needs to processed in a less public forum than my blog, at least that is how I feel at the moment. I was looking through my reader on my WordPress site and there are quite a few posts about stimming. Now I only found out what that meant recently by using Google which got me thinking about whether I stim?
So I don’t know if you can picture this, but I was in two minds about whether this is something I want to write about or not since I don’t know if I have a lot to say. The next thing I know is that I am pacing around the house thinking about this. I notice the dog curled up by one of my shoes and my daughter is nearby communing with her phone. I ask my daughter whether the dog is actually curled up over my other shoe but no, the other one has been moved to the shoe rack in the kitchen. She then tells me she tried to move the remaining shoe but our dog put his noise in it and growled at her. My dog seems very protective of items of my clothing when they are left on the floor in the hallway, so much so that he doesn’t even like me removing them.
During this conversation I have moved into the sitting room and am now staring out of the bay window, looking at the twilight forming. I ask my daughter what time she is being picked up (her orchestra are playing in a fund raising concert) and she says at eight o’clock. It is at this point that I realise that I am pacing around the house and scratching my stomach whilst trying to decide whether to write a post on stimming. I laugh out loud and immediately turn round and head back to my laptop. The anxiety over writing the post has actually set me stimming; how can I refuse now?
I remember as a child noticing that my dad seemed to scratch a lot and thinking that we were similar in that sense, scratching our torsos seemed to be a habit. Nowadays I notice that I tend to rub my legs when I need comfort. I also rub my hands together. I run my fingers through my beard. I also rub my scalp. A side effect of this is that I often have dead skin on my chest and shoulders which is unfortunate because I tend to wear dark tops. Rubbing in some sense if probably my standard behaviour but when I am trying to think through a difficult problem, I tend to start pacing. Moving helps me think and in a strange sense keeps me grounded.
I think the real problem for me is when I sit still whilst being stressed. The rubbing turns to itching then, which is a problem because I have psoriasis and the worst thing I can do to my lesions is to scratch them. My patches tend to be where I scratch unfortunately (though not exclusively). The worst lesions are on my torso and my scalp where the scratching can be difficult to stop, though thankfully I usually have enough control to halt when I start bleeding. It’s a bit of a no win situation really, I scratch to find relief but scratching leads to longer term issues with the psoriasis which in turn is another reason to beat myself up. It is easier to stay calm. At home the dog is a great comforter; at work I find sitting on the toilet a peaceful place to be.
Anxiety can lead to action though and gives me energy to write, connect and learn. It’s a funny old world.