My Most Underrated Coping Skill
“You always had a hard time finding your place in this world, haven’t you? Never knowing your true worth. You can settle for a less than ordinary life. Or, do you feel like you were meant for something better, somethin’ special?” actor Bruce Greenwood, Star Trek (2009) final film trailer.
Sometimes you do not know how important something is until you admit just how often you do or use it. There happens to be such a skill that I am using in a very helpful way. In fact, I am using it right now as I write the very words for this article. It is a practice familiar to autistic people, who knowingly and unknowingly use it to help regulate their executive functioning. By any behavioral description, we collectively know it as stimming.
Take a look at the quote above by Bruce Greenwood. I am using a portion of that trailer in a way that is generating a confluence of energy and motivation. The end result is this paragraph, in spite of my stressful life situation. Post-traumatic stress, recurring suicidal ideations, and no mental health care after being forcibly discharged. Walk with me as I explore how stimming may be my most underrated coping skill.
In the context of autistic people, stimming can be defined as any manner of body or mind repetition that serves to regulate executive function. I first learned about it while I was attending a local all-age autism support group several years ago. We were discussing repetitive movement and stimming when I made a curious discovery. I said that I noticed I would drum my hands on various surfaces when I was in a particularly positive mood.
Another member of the group said they had a similar habit. But in the years since, stimming has remained largely unexplored due to my increasing stress. Now I believe I have amassed enough experience to begin exploring how else I engage in stimming. It is not as simple as you might think. While the beating of my hands appears to be just that, there is a beautiful harmony at work in how I use stimming now.
Let’s take a look back at just before I had the urge to write this article. I am not in good shape to do much of anything after my February healthcare discharge. The only way I have been able to do my writing has been by tapping into intense interests. But it does not last. Recently, I wanted to write about my experiences with stimming because I felt I had learned more. How I was able to do it is really quite remarkable.
I have been a loyal fan of Star Trek for a very long time. I grew up watching the original series of films, beginning with the classic The Wrath of Khan during the 1990s. Two weeks ago, I had an interest in watching the trailers for the 2009 Star Trek film. Since its release, I have repeatedly watched each of the trailers at various times. One of them ignited a firestorm of motivation to write. Here is how I harnessed that energy.
In general, I have been quite fond of modern film trailers because they condense an entire movie into an average of three minutes. These trailers are intended to grab your interest so you will go see the movies in theaters. Modern trailers also make use of epic-sounding neo-classical music, which only amplifies the potential interest. When I rewatched the second and final trailer for Star Trek (2009), several important things happened.
First, my love for Star Trek dates back to the original cast members and the characters they portrayed. I strongly identify with Captain James T. Kirk because I have the same first name. Ask me, and I will often say, “Call me Jim.” In the 2009 film, young Jim Kirk is portrayed as having an uncharacteristic lack of confidence. His father was killed when he was young. Without his father’s guidance, Jim lacked confidence.
As a result, Kirk grew up as a drifter for a time. I knew this after I saw the movie at the theater. I really, deeply identify with this kind of tragedy. This is where the film trailer struck a chord deep within me. Actor Bruce Greenwood plays a kind of mentor to persuade Jim to better himself. He speaks the lines that I chose to put at the beginning of this article. When I watched the trailer, Greenwood’s own words lit a passionate fire.
I was filled with an urge to write. But what should I write? The momentary surge of dopamine began to fade. So I watched the trailer several more times. Then I did something that many autistic people are known for: creativity. I downloaded the trailer, cut out one minute and three seconds after the intro scene, converted it to an MP3 audio file, and did something not unexpected. I started replaying it over and over again.
Each time I replayed the fragment of the film trailer, the more motivation I felt to write. Before I knew it, I was writing the opening paragraph to this article, even though my life is little more than dismal. Remember: post-traumatic stress, recurring suicidal ideations, and no mental health care after being forcibly discharged in February — making me a hot mess. And yet, here I am, repeatedly using the trailer fragment to write. How?
First, I love Star Trek. I also have the same first name as the character Jim Kirk. I am enduring a tragic life that I am urgently trying to overcome. The film shows that Kirk is able to overcome his fears and regain his self-confidence. The words Bruce Greenwood is quoted above saying in the trailer resonate as if they were being spoken to me. These are inspirational ingredients, but they need something to make them whole.
Stimming acts as the mixing process that stirs all of these ingredients together. The cake represents this soon-to-be-finished article. By repeatedly listening to a fragment of a film trailer, I have been able to transform various sources of inspiration into motivational energy. With this energy, in spite of a life now filled largely with despair, I am making something out of nothing. Some might say I am using my tragedy as a source of energy.
The phrase “What does not kill me makes me stronger” comes to mind. My autism was neglected so late into adulthood that, at age 42, my potential for a prosperous future was all but ruined. Nothing can repair the damage to my life, not to mention the psychological trauma. By embracing natural autistic stimming, I used what would otherwise be shunned as strange to make myself stronger. I am going to need it…
