Spectrum
I have always thought in pictures — they help me to understand how I think things work. One of the biggest pictures in my life right now is a soundboard.
I have tried to explain autism for the past decade and I think that the best picture I have come up with is a soundboard.
So many folks seem to explain *high functioning* and *low functioning* and pigeon hole folks into these dualistic categories — black & white, up & down, in & out. I don’t think it works like that and I really think that it’s unhelpful.
Each aspect of my body, my brain, my emotions, my senses and my abilities are a lever or knob on a soundboard. Some are set permanently and have been consistent throughout my whole life. Some have changed and either moved higher or lower as I age or mature. Others whip up and down in minutes if I’m triggered or hungry, lonely, angry or tired. When we are defined by the word spectrum, which is a picture word, it can conjure up a line with 0 on one end and 100 on the other — and that somehow each and every one of us on the spectrum slots into one of those numbers. That’s why I think folks say things like “well, aren’t we all a little bit on the spectrum?”. No.
For me the soundboard helps me explain to folks that light and my ability to tolerate it is set normally around 8 — and peaks at 10 many times through the day. I can tolerate sunshine and indirect light, but direct light, fluorescent light or bright screens are unbearable, especially at the end of the day.
It’s not always been like that, but I’ve always been sensitive — maybe it’s because my eyes are getting older, maybe it’s because I spend a lot of time with screens.
That’s not standard for every autistic — they may love bright light, their setting might be 2 — that doesn’t mean I’m low functioning or they are high functioning — it just means that in this spectrum we end up on a different setting. It’s almost like every part of our lives, bodies, emotions and senses are their very own spectrums — we are the sound boards — each knob and sliding bar is set by some unknown technician — we have very little control over any of it. We can learn coping mechanism, personal care, boundaries and accommodations — but we aren’t low or high, we are individual. When you me in public it may take every ounce of masking for me to seem like you. It doesn’t mean I don’t go home like a bag of jello and sit in the dark for the rest of the night, exhausted the next day and feeling like my nerves are on the outside of my body.
Please refrain from assuming that you can determine my functioning levels and while you’re at it turn off the lights.
