How Playdough Helped Me Accept My Autistic Repetitive Behaviour

To be diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder (ASD), a person needs to have “persistent deficits” in three domains; social interaction, communication, and restricted/repetitive behaviour. “Restricted/repetitive” behaviour includes rituals, stereotypy (repeated movements), and restricted interests in specific topics, or “special interests”. 

I feel it doesn’t get as much attention, and as someone diagnosed with autism at the age of 10, I’d like to share a bit about how some of my restricted/repetitive behaviour evolved over time – using an analogy to illustrate why some things just “stick” and “become a thing”; how they become absorbed into my daily routines.  

Imagine opening a new can of playdough (or slime, if you’d prefer), it’s soft and easily moldable. Now bring that playdough into your kitchen and drop it on the floor. I must preface this next part by saying, no one has a perfectly clean kitchen floor. And if you do, you probably aren’t using your kitchen, or you’re lying; I know you’ve got dirt and crumbs like everyone else. 

Don’t pick it up, just leave it there for a bit. Then, go back to it, and press it down as you roll it all over the floor. For the sake of this analogy, let’s assume your kitchen floor is of average cleanliness. When you pick it up again, you’ll notice it may have absorbed some bread crumbs, some dirt, and maybe even a bit of pet hair. 

Now try and remove the crumbs, dirt, hair, and whatever else your playdough may have absorbed while it was being rolled on the ground. I’m not sure how familiar you are with playdough, but it’s virtually impossible to remove these tiny bits of debris. 

You’re probably wondering what children’s toys, the cleanliness of your kitchen floor, and the level of difficulty of removing dirt all have to do with repetitive/restricted behaviour. The playdough is symbolic of my brain. When it’s figuratively rolled on the floor, this is to say, exposed to different activities/routines, it will sometimes pick up the activity/routine and not let it go.

Sometimes this is a good thing, you might go far as to say it could be an advantage. I’ve got a really functional and efficient morning routine that’s completed in a ritualistic manner. It always gets me to work and I rarely forget the items I need each day! I’ve also developed similarly efficient routines for hygiene and household tasks.

The flip side of having dependable and highly efficient routines is the emotional catastrophe I experience when a portion of it is unavailable or unable to be completed.

 When the routine must account for so many specific and unpredictable variables, it becomes very difficult to uphold. And when it falls apart, it can often lead to a meltdown.

As an adult, I generally make my own choices about what things to do and when/how/where to do them – at least to the extent that any other adult has control over those things. But what I cannot control is other people. So if they play a part in the routine and aren’t able to participate, or if being in the space would negatively affect the routine, it can cause distress.

So I try my best to self-manage, that is to say, to keep my figurative kitchen floor as clean as possible. This means that I do my best to monitor for patterns in my own behaviour and try to notice when it becomes a trend. If it does, and it’s a routine or ritual that could easily be “ruined” by something outside my control (many of them can be), I’ll try to disrupt or adjust it myself. Unfortunately for me, I don’t like keeping the figurative floors clean, it’s a lot of work.

It feels a lot better to drink one kind of tea between the hours of 10:30-11:30 pm when two of the living room lights are on and the one kitchen light is on at 40% capacity. And it’s even better to do it while watching one of three specific TV shows alone in the living room. But that’s a lot of variables to be messed with, especially if you share space with other people.

Like most autistic people, I too find comfort in ritualistic behaviour. It brings a sense of control and predictability into a world that too often feels chaotic. 

Adult life (for most people, autism or not) is a balancing act between doing what we might prefer to be doing, and what we should be doing at any given moment. The trouble is when autism is thrown into the mix and you lose your balance – you let the cleanliness of your kitchen floors go – you can absorb too many/too specific routines, and everything can come crashing down. 

And the process of attempting to remove the crumbs, dirt, and/or pet hair can be a painful reminder of the need for flexibility, which is inherently difficult for those of us who are hardwired to seek out and maintain routines and rituals.

So, Reader, if you struggle with inflexibility in your daily life, my advice to you is to go mop your kitchen floor. That is to say, monitor your daily habits for a while and take note of any trends. 

If you can keep the debris on the floor to a minimum, they’re less likely to get stuck in your playdough (aka your brain). 

This helps keep you aware of when your brain picks up new rituals and routines and that way, you can decide for yourself if you need to redirect that or if it’s one of those beneficial routines.