Autism Tales. The Party.
I’m sitting alone in my car in the parking lot. Enjoying the silence. Hating the silence.
I’m about to go to a party. I’ve waited for this event for a long time. I was supposed to go the year prior, but I got sick and couldn’t. But now I’m finally going. It’s my chance. I’d like to meet new people. I’d like to get to know others better. So many opportunities.
I enter the room. I’m fashionably late, so it’s already full of people. There’s music, and chatter, some people are drinking, and some are eating. All the noises, everywhere around me. That’s good, I think to myself. I’m with lots of nice people. Others would kill for an invitation to this event. Why do I have doubts about being here when I barely just entered the room?! Can my brain be any more ridiculous?
Someone says hi and smiles. It’s a guy I met before, but I don’t know him well. We never had the chance to chat. So I quickly say hi and return the smile. He invites me to join his group. They’re talking about some trip they took a couple of months ago. I’m getting absorbed by the story.
Suddenly, the guy who invited me into the group started asking me questions. Silly things. OK… think Laura. Small talk. You can do this. How hard can it be? Everyone else does it.
He wants to know about me. So I start talking about everything that comes to mind. It’s going ok, I think. He seems genuinely interested. But we’re soon interrupted. It’s a couple I know, they’re really nice people, they just wanted to say hi to us. Another conversation ensues. And then another one in another corner. And then someone else comes to say hi and wants to join us.
I’m completely lost. My words don’t want to come out of my mouth anymore. A feeling of overwhelm takes over. I’m trying to focus my brain on one conversation. But there’s just so much noise!
I have no idea how, but 3 hours pass. By this point, I’ve become more or less invisible. I’ve been unable to talk for most of the night. I’ve had a couple of 1–1 conversations that were fine. But anytime the group gets bigger, and everyone starts talking, I’m overwhelmed, and I freeze again.
I look at the time. Three and half hours. That’s an OK time. I try to make an Irish exit, but of course, I’m unsuccessful. I was invisible 90% of the time, but somehow when I try to leave, they all noticed.
They don’t want me to go. More conversations around me. More noise. More overwhelm. This is good, I try to convince myself. They don’t hate you. They noticed you, they might even like you. That’s why they don’t want you to go.
Right. So, I convince myself to stay a little longer. Now it will really be better, I think to myself. I’ll keep up with the conversations and I will not let the background noise screw with my mind.
One hour later, I’m at peace with the fact that it’s never going to happen. I can’t do it. I look at everyone around me. How they’re doing it, I have no idea. This time, I manage to get out and leave.
I’m sitting alone in my car in the parking lot. Enjoying the silence. Hating the silence.
I’m home. I take a deep breath. I made it. I went to a social event. I’m happy. I also hate myself. Why am I like this? Why can’t I be like the others? Why can’t I truly enjoy an event I wanted to attend? An event that was…great. There’s nothing to really say against it. Except that my brain reacted badly.
Back then, I had no idea I was autistic. I had no idea what I was feeling is called sensory overload. And I had no idea how to protect myself against it. Or how to react when it happens.
Do I still experience sensory overload? Yes. Do I sometimes hate myself for it? Oh, how I wish I could say the answer is no. Unfortunately, sometimes I still do.
So what’s changed? I know what is happening to me. And I know what I need to thrive.
There’s a name to what I go through. I’m not alone.
This article is part of my Autism Tales series, where I try to explore, through personal stories, what autism looks like in day-to-day life. Please remember that autism is a spectrum, and it might present completely differently in your life or the lives of those you love.
