Apparently I wouldn’t give my dummy up and when my parents tried to wean me off this baby pacifier, I would take them from other children because I wanted A DUMMY.
We were in Skegness and a child in a pushchair had one and I went right up to that pushchair and grabbed that dummy. I wanted that dummy. I was getting it.
I remember a lot of adult talk about how I was really unusual about my dummy use as an older child.
Only now, you can see hundreds of posts of adults worried about weaning their autistic children from their dummies and think, there was a clear sign. Ignored in the 70s
The murder (not really)
At my birthday party someone drew on the wall with red marker. I decided that someone had been killed and that it was blood. I had a massive meltdown and refused to go up the stairs because of the murder. Pretty dark for a pre school kid.
This went on for a long time. The pattern of the red mark stayed in my head even when it had been wiped off. My mother was furious at me for being silly.
The angrier she got. The more convinced I was that our stair way was covered in blood.
Stop showing off
I think I used to stim a lot as a small child. Lots of rocking and odd behaviour. A lot of hair twirling especially when I got tired. When ever I started to get bad my mum would slap me and shout STOP SHOWING OFF. I heard this constantly. The more I was shouted at and slapped the worse I got,
As a consequence I never really got past that with my parents. The damage was done. It wasn’t showing off. I was stress stimming.
I have since told my mother I am autistic but as she doesn’t really know what it is she isn’t that interested.
It’s hard to have a relationship with this kind of baggage. After all, the more she shouted. The more I got sensory overload. The more meltdowns and stimming. It was just a never ending circle. Brought on by an adult who didn’t have the capabilities to think things through properly.
The pushchair with the green rain cover
This is one of my earliest memories. My dad would walk everywhere with me pushing my pram. It had a green rain cover on it and I loved that cover, I basically spent my baby years being pushed around not seeing anything but the green rain cover. I loved being hidden and being inside something, not on show. Hearing but not seeing.
I used to do this in the garden too. I would sit on a chair with another chair on top of my so I was still inside something. I would pretend I was in the cockpit of a space ship. Or in a ship. I loved it.
To this day I love being in small spaces like that. ultra private with no one being able to see me.
I always remember those walks in the pram when it actually rained and I got the extra bonus of hearing the rain splash on the rain cover. I always remember just seeing green in front of my eyes and being really happy.
That was all thanks to my dad letting me have my way even though it was a bit of an odd thing to do.
Again there it was. I didn’t want to communicate with people or socialise. I wanted to be in my own little world.
Extra note. Looking back I think my dad would have been diagnosed as autistic if he hadn’t been born in the 1920s. So he never had any issues with my autism traits.
Aeroplane shows and bonfire night
My dad loved to tell this one. Apparently any loud noise and I would absolutely freak out and hide in my dads coat until it stopped.
I was petrified of loud noise. I think I was trying to get inside something. Like my green hood on my pram. Dad thought It was about him but I don’t think it was. Bless him.
I think I was just trying to get in something away from the noise .