A Conflict of Sensory Overload Proportions
Last spring, I stumbled upon the autistic trait of stimming, which I had not understood previously due to a lack of consistency in publicly available research. Thanks entirely to the adult-age autism support group I attend, not long afterwards I stumbled upon a second trait I was unfamiliar with. One that influences my very ability to regulate my emotional state and how long I can focus on doing certain tasks.
Until I absorbed enough information to understand it in my own life, sensory overload was a mystery to me. Now, I am beginning to discover more about it. Not as quickly as I would like if I had someone, professional or otherwise, to interpret my experiences in real-time. Depending on the autistic person, sensory overload can be mild to incredibly disruptive. Let us explore this not-so-mysterious nuisance of overstimulation.
And it just happened again. So, here is a fresh example of it. Bear with me as I explain. I was fixated on my writing for the “Autism Experience.” I had my earphones in but was not listening to music. Sometimes, I do, and sometimes, I need the noise canceled out. Suddenly, I overheard someone’s voice from another room: thousand one, thousand two; it felt as if my attention was being pulled in; thousand three; and I clapped my hands over my ears.
Then, in a frantic, hushed tone, I barked to myself, “Shut up!” six times until the meltdown finally subsided. Out of nowhere, this happens, and I know it is not the person whose voice I heard. It was like a switch flipped in my mind because I was so focused. Before I knew what sensory overload was, I felt very insecure and kept it to myself. Nothing was wrong with me, and it was only temporary.
Even still, sensory overload is an unsettling experience. Through my interactions with autistic people on social media, I have discovered other examples, such as someone having a flight response while in a crowded public place and needing to isolate himself. This made me realize that before 2016, when safe spaces and panic rooms started to get stigmatized, there were actually legitimate reasons for those rooms to be needed. There are, present tense.
If sensory overload happens, especially in view of the public, I would feel self-conscious and want to hide it, too. No wonder I still feel so insecure about the one I just admitted above. Once triggered, I cannot control it until the frenzy passes. I am not sure yet when I have experienced shutdowns because I am also ADHD. If I am not busy doing something, I am busy doing something.
Other milder examples of sensory overload, minus the meltdowns, can happen when stress builds up, or I hear repetitive noises like dogs barking and someone using a hammer in the distance. These can feel rather annoying. I would put my earphones in to block it out until the sensation passed. I have noticed that if too many people send me instant messages while I am focused on something, I can get overwhelmed and need to moderate them.
I try not to say something too direct or insensitive, like, “Wait your turn.” If it gets to be too much, I will fixate on the selected conversation until I get to the others. This feels odd because I can multitask. I gather that I multitask when I am in control and can handle the stimuli or communication I am doing. Otherwise, I need to reduce the sensory stimuli, or a meltdown may occur.
One thing is for sure: once I am ready to tackle a special interest or a task without sensory overload, it is game on. That is, until my ADHD taps on my shoulder to distract me from something else. Oh, we do get bored. Sometimes, though, our experience is anything but.
#LetThatThinkIn
Welcome to the next Autism Experience.
Unknowingly Dominating the Conversation.
