Disturbing childhood obsessions

[Edward764]

Listening back to my autobiographical tapes for the first time in over 31 years reminded me of a few weird fetishes, one which is very disturbing.
I suspect these anomalies go beyond autism. If so, maybe others know how to classify them.

First, I was reminded of the anger I had for an infant girl in a crib for daring to look like a boy.
When I was about four years old, I was talking to my girl neighbor who lived on the other side of the fence, who was two or three years old. I was not angry at her, but I was angry at her infant baby sister who was behind her in a crib.
I was angry when her older sister told me that the baby was a girl. I was offended because this infant girl had short hair. I guess I thought baby girls were born with long hair, and boys were born with short hair. I thought to myself " How dare this baby girl pretend to be a boy."

The sickening part is that her older sister of three years old went behind her crib and started pulling her hair and making her cry. I enjoyed watching this infant girl being tortured, thinking she deserved it for daring to look like a boy.

In first grade, I was jealous of girls for the mere reason that I liked the letter "g" better than the letter 'b', and the word "girl" started with a "g". I have no idea why I liked g more than b.

Third,I also was bothered that I had two letters that were the same in my first name, and I wanted more variety, so when my parents got me a Mickey Mouse hat at Disneyland ( name changed). I did not like "Kenneth" because it had two "n" s and two "e"s in it. I insisted on letters that were not duplicated, so I had them put "Kenith" on my hat.

Fourth, which lasted into adulthood was my highway fetish. I had a strong desire to start at the beginning or go to the end of interstate and state highways. If I just missed either the beginning or the end, I was very unfulfilled.
When in San Diego with my family at about ages 8-10, I was bothered because we stopped in San Diego and did not go to the end of Interstate 5 at the Mexican border.
My parents always spoiled me, so my dad stopped at a gas station to ask how far the end of 5 was. He said seven miles. My dad then drove 14 miles out of his way so I could go to the end of Interstate 5.
In 1979, when I was 21, I was anxious and depressed over a neurotic infatuation I had with a girl, and I wanted to escape. I therefore drove from Southern California to the Canadian border. But this was only half the reason; I also wanted to go to the Northern end of Interstate 5. The trip was a disaster, as I had two breakdowns on the way home.
But first, I got to cross into Canada. I did not care about Canada, I just wanted to see the end of Interstate 5.
On my return trip, I realized that I did not get complete satisfaction from starting back at the beginning of 5 because I had to use the bathroom. Therefore after traveling south for thirty miles from the border, I could not deal with this unsatisfaction, so I turned around and went 60 miles out of my way back to the border so I could enjoy the beginning of 5 without any distractions.
The concept of satisfaction was also a factor in destroying me academically.
Is all of the autism related, or is some other anomaly more prevalent?

 

[Running Girl]

I see a lot of OCD, especially with the interstates.

 

[SusanLR]

Totally agree with seeing OCD. Not only with the interstates, but with the letters also.

 

[Crossbreed]

@Edward764 , it is good that you recognize them as problems, now.

 

[Progster]

It could be OCD, and it could be autism - there certainly is some overlap between the two.

I had some similar traits as a child... I don't think I have OCD though, a lot of them were down to my not being able to process emotions, or autistic traits. I developed intense hatreds for seemingly random things I didn't understand, or things linked to unpleasant emotions. For example, I was bullied as a child, mainly name-calling, and called a 'baby' by my bullies. I developed an intense hatred for the words 'baby' and 'little'. So much so that I got a pen and blacked out all the words 'baby' and 'little' from a couple of library books. I also had an obsession with Sellotape, which I loved, and a hatred for sardines and teenagers. I had others which I now know were related to sensory issues - having to have the light in the corridor outside my room switched off in order to sleep. Which later developed as an adult into a thing about having to switch all lights off in the house when they are not needed, not being able to sleep or relax even until they are off. Other people find this behaviour a bit excessive. Or as a child having to have my bedclothes tightly packed around my bed, my soft toys all in my bed down either side in a certain order, and getting really, really upset at my pyjamas riding up my leg and bunching up, or an item with elastic riding up my waist and not hanging down like it should. Really hate elastic. Or being furious at Battenberg cake - Wikipedia Battenberg cake, because it would fall apart when I lifted it up to eat it and wouldn't stay whole and this sent me into a rage. Things not doing what they are supposed to do, being as they should be, can still send me into a rage.

I hated my name too, but for different reasons, and insisted at one point that people used a different one for me.

I can relate to you wanting to get to the very beginning and very end of the interstate. That would bug me, too. I would feel like I have to go to the end, or it isn't complete and I wouldn't be satisfied. Perfectionism. If I clean something, I want it to be completely clean, if a bit is left, it's not complete. If I eat, I eat everything on the plate, not even the tiniest scrap or trace of food, because it there is even just a tiny bit, I feel like I haven't eaten everything. My dad used to joke that I would also eat the pattern from the plate In my music collection, I want discographies to be whole, I want tagging to be complete and correct for all 14,000 or so entries. I don't like things half done and left incomplete.

 

[Tom]

... when my parents got me a Mickey Mouse hat at Disneyland ( name changed)...

You're protecting Goofy?

 

[Peter Morrison]

There are a lot of unusual OCD behaviors going on in the world, so I'm not so sure you have to refer to your own as disturbing. To explain where I am coming from, I'll tell you that I have a theory (unproven) that some children absorb a lesson or a rule that gets cemented into their brain and it never get challenged because they see it is a rule, a constant, a forever. How we see the world when we are children gets interrupted by exceptions to a rule. It stands out as odd or some kind of unusual surprise. A child with powers of observation will notice that most girls have long hair and most boys have short hair. These become distinguishing characteristics. The taller kid is older than the shorter kid. Dish towels are different from bath towels. We go through life staying close to the classification of things based on our perceptions and the expected qualities of that "thing". We become aware of subtle differences while still maintaining an understanding of the expected norm. Creative people like to break the molds and express alternative ways to achieve the same purpose. Rules can be broken, but cultural norms can remain strong. You may go through life holding on to the traditional ways, or you may explore options and alternatives for any reason at all.

Being a bit OCD is nothing to be ashamed of. Wanting to drive the entire route from Canada to Mexico is a playful way of indulging a rare achievement. When the US mint came out with quarters representing each of the 50 states, lots of people felt compelled to get ahold of at least one from each state. There was no purpose behind it except to have one from each state. That's a form of OCD. Some people feel compelled to climb the stairs of a famous building or monument. Nobody tells them they have to. They dream it up on their own. It represents some kind of achievement or the satisfaction of a long-term desire. I want to walk the Appalachian Trail end to end. I'm reluctant to do it because it means being away for about 6-8 months. I still want to do it, though, alone.

OCD can be seen as an addiction. The only fun part about addiction is satisfying it. But, it is still a trap. The flip side is that fulfilling the needs of OCD behavior is a form of enjoyment. Exercising that quest is captivating. People collect salt and pepper shakers from different tourist destinations, or they collect drink coasters from different beer manufacturers. I collected stamps, coins, and paper money. I think that many people with hobbies can find their interest to be related to OCD on some level.

OCD behavior is detrimental to your world if it causes you to forego sensibility. Gamblers know the dangers of OCD behavior. It's not like collecting toy trains. The losses in gambling can be devastating. Everyone on the spectrum should be aware of which behaviors or interests can cause irreparable harm. I think that our hyper-focus obsessions can lead us into trouble if we don't choose our activities well.

Edward, you are smart to question your odd behaviors, but I am not sure they are harmful to you or others. Kids adjust their perceptions as life progresses. Some cling to the first rule they encounter. It doesn't hurt anyone if you believe in the value of choice. Choice involves preference, and nobody has the right to question your preference. You are responsible for all of your own decisions without interference or coercion. We should always assess our intentions and our abilities. Just recognize the danger zones. Life can be dangerous, so we don't need to invite potential trouble.

 

[Edward764]

These OCD's were not dangerous, but the ones that affected me academically were part of my academic failures. The other reasons were 27 bullies and distracting synchronicities.

I also have two geographic obsessions, one which still exists today, although it is completely harmless.
As a child, I would study a map of California to convince myself that we earned the satisfaction of actually being in California. My bizarre obsession correlated satisfaction with proximity to geographic centers.

For example, the ultimate satisfaction from being a resident of the US would be residing in Kansas, since it is the middle state.
As a California resident, ultimate satisfaction would be residing near Fresno, whereas if one lived near the coastline in Malibu or Santa Monica, they were too close to the ocean to claim full satisfaction from residing in California.
Back in 1966, our family took a business trip to many cities on the east coast.
One city was Miami. I told my dad that since we were right on the water, we really were not in Florida. My dad got upset and said WE WERE IN FLORIDA!

A related obsession still exists today, although it is harmless.
Today I equate geographic satisfaction with the farther west a city is along the lines of longitude. Eureka California would be among the most satisfying cities in which to reside, while the least satisfying would be along the eastern coast of Maine.
The coastline is not a direct factor. I consider Reno more satisfying than Los Angeles because Reno is farther west, although it is much farther from the Pacific coast.

The very first relevant acaemic obsession started in 3rd grade when I noted the fellow next to me had very dark writing on his paper.
From then on I equated satisfaction from written assignments with how dark ones writing was.
This became debilitating because every detail of every letter had to be dark, not just the collective assignment.
When writing the letter "e", I had to fill in the comet tail of the "e" with graphite; I could not have it tail off with less graphite. I still had this obsession in 5th grade, since my math teacher said she would never accept an assignment that looked like this again. The math assignment was so smeared with darkness it was too sloppy.

My worst obsession came in 7th grade, when I would sabotage my reading since I had to read assignments under fully satisfying conditions free of distractions in order to continue to the next sentence.

I would sabotage myself by creating distractions so I would need to read sentences multiple times in order to gain satisfaction. I would need to start words or sentences again because I would get saliva in my mouth, or I would get an itch, or I would read with Mickey mouse's voice in my head instead of my own voice.
My mom eventually sent me to a reading clinic, but no one knew my problems had nothing to do with being such a poor reader.
I also remember Veterans Day 1969 when we were home from school. I felt the need to inflict discomfort on myself simply because it was easy to do, and I therefore felt obligated to do it. I would squeeze the back of my ankle as hard as I could, twist my head around as hard as I could, and give myself an awful chill intentionally by manipulating my nervous system. No wonder I attracted 27 bullies from 1963- 1987.

 

[Progster]

From then on I equated satisfaction from written assignments with how dark ones writing was.
This became debilitating because every detail of every letter had to be dark, not just the collective assignment.
When writing the letter "e", I had to fill in the comet tail of the "e" with graphite; I could not have it tail off with less graphite. I still had this obsession in 5th grade, since my math teacher said she would never accept an assignment that looked like this again. The math assignment was so smeared with darkness it was too sloppy.

I had a phase where I was obsessive about my writing, too. My handwriting was bad at school, and far from perfect - that used to bug me, but the thing that really bugged me was that I didn't close my 'a's or 'b's or 'd's or any letter with a closed loop or cirle in it. So I used to go back and close up all the loops, and it looked a bit strange and unnatural. Or I would write really slowly with deliberately round and closed letters. That also looked forced and unnatural. Then I went through a phase of hating the way I wrote certain lettters, or wanting to write then certain ways. I hated writing a 'd' with two strokes going up and then back down again. It struck me as being particularly time inefficient. So I wrote it with only one stroke going up. And I always hated the way some people put a circle over the 'i' instead of a dot.