My Childhood History

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I want to try to write an abbreviated history of my childhood to see if anyone has any similarities. I am wondering if my Asperger's symptoms are mostly genetic or of a more complex etiology, the result of maladaptive learning. It is hard to get a completely accurate portrayal of my childhood because I'm telling it as I experienced it, and sometimes a child's awareness is more limited.

I was born a little late. The doctor who was going to deliver ran late and assumed I would be born later. My mom thought the doctor was right when he said the labor pains did not mean I was nearly ready to be born. When it finally became obvious I was about to be born, my mom tried to hold me in until the doctor arrived. Because of this, I was born with a bump on my head. I could probably best describe this bump's location as upper (as in near the top of the head, not the sides by the ears or the forehead) anterior, but I don't remember if it was on the left or right.

I remember "mythologies" about my infancy and very early childhood. I "decided" to become left handed while teething on a pacifier and thinking about how text is written from left to right; I actually saw a scroll unwrapped in front of my eyes, in a sense (I had better visualization ability as a kid). I chose left because that's where things begin. I remember associating "grownups" with the image of tall legs because, of course, that's all I could see standing from my point of view. Another mythology is how the veins appeared on my wrists. I remember them becoming more visible after a shot; I hated shots as a kid and would hide under chairs to avoid getting shots.

My mom has sometimes remarked that I learned how to walk early, not long after crawling. I can't remember any other motor development milestones. My mom claims I sometimes had echolalia and even pronoun reversal as a kid up until I was about 8, but I don't remember that.

I had a few friends in the neighborhood: a girl from across the street and her younger sister, a boy from down the street and his older brother, and two brothers down the street in the other direction. I remember accidentally poking my brother in the eye once when he was a baby; and, from then on, we've sometimes disagreed. We also fought a lot as kids—mostly playfully; actually, my dad encouraged us to wrestle and fight each other as long as we didn't hurt each other. As for activities, coloring was my absolute favorite. I colored the red dots on the ground outside I always smashed to make red pigment (mites, I later found out); I colored coloring books; I colored trees, people, and landscapes; and I basically colored for hours on end; art was my passion. Not to say I was very good at it. I also liked running, exploring, jumping, etc.

At preschool I was sometimes a bit of a bully. I don't remember the exact reasons, but I do remember being babysat before going to a preschool or daycare center where I was bullied. Then, I simply reapplied what other kids did to me, thinking it was what was to be done (for example, tripping people as they walked by). I did get in trouble in preschool a lot. I balked at time out (same at home; I hated being forced to do nothing). I remember one time one of the preschool teachers asked me to come up with a punishment, which was overly harsh, and they ended up applying on me in a much lessened form minutes later (I complained that I didn't mean it to apply to me). Luckily, I stopped bullying by first grade and became a good student.

In preschool I liked Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Smurfs, G.I. Joe, spiders, running and jumping, and coloring. I was very attracted to colorful things; I remember singing the Ghostbuster theme song in gym while playing with the rainbow parachute. I also liked the My Little Ponies. Heh, it wasn't because they were girly but because they looked more appealing. At this age, I was highly exuberent and optimistic and carefree as any child should be. I had no contamination fears; I played in the dirt without care; I never washed my hands; my parents had a hassle even getting me to take a bath because I thought it was a waste of time since I'd just get dirty again. I never even bothered closing the door when going to the bathroom. Yeah, it's disgusting to recall now. I had no overwhelming feeling of disgust. I do remember my mom washing my mouth out with soap a couple of times when my language got too foul. She was also constantly adamant about cleaning things up; there was always this elusive company who might just randomly show up. I was the opposite of tidy back then, but I guess eventually my mom's constant insistence settled in and I became a bit of a neat freak.

For a while, I was into the Problem Child movies and wanted to wear one of those skelaton t-shirts like some rocker wore. I liked the song "Bad to the Bone." That phase was replaced with the Nintendo/video games phase: Mario, Zelda, Mega Man, etc.

As my parents' first-born child, I was expected to be the most mature and responsible. My dad employed spanking as a punishment, but sometimes he lost his temper and spanked me harder than he should have, which absolutely enraged me; that's why I never developed attachment towards him—because I was conditioned to hate him as a child. My mom, on the other hand, blamed me whenever there was a problem; she assumed I was behind the trouble first and foremost every time. Even now, when she's reprimanding my brother or sister, she instinctively says my name but then has to correct herself. I sometimes smirked when I lied as a kid (still do), but I'd also smirk if someone thought there was deception; or if I was telling the truth but thought it sounded hard to believe. So my mom always interrogated me and I began to smirk and laugh under pressure whether it was my fault or not (more often not). Thus, I grew not to care much for my mom either. My mom's also extremely, extremely overprotective and worry prone.

I'll post later, but I want to ask about an on-campus job at the university career center before my next class.