Sensory Overload – A Multitude of Musings

How Sensory Seeking Manifests in Me

Posted on August 22, 2023 by Astrid

As those who visit my blog regularly will know, I am autistic. My assigned staff put “highly sensitive” rather than autistic on my basic info sheet. This isn’t necessarily incorrect, but it is definitely incomplete. Not just because autism encompasses more than sensory processing challenges and because the hyped-up term of “highly sensitive” doesn’t come close to describing my level of overload, but also because in certain ways, I am not hypersensitive at all. Today, I want to talk about the ways in which I am, in fact, a sensory seeker.

The main aspect in which I’m a sensory seeker, is reflected in the way I approach food. I love love LOVE spicy food. I also love crunchy food. I can’t stand mash, because that is about the polar opposite of both. Honestly though, I find the texture matters more than the flavor, since mash didn’t get better with lots of black pepper on it and I can handle bland yet crunchy foods.

I also chew on hard candy. Like, I’ve tried sucking on it, but I really can’t manage to do that for more than a few seconds before I need to break the candy. Another example, but I’m not sure whether this is sensory seeking or lack of proprioception and/or coordination, is the fact that my staff tell me my spoon always clanks against my teeth quite loudly. I also realize now that drinking my coffee quite hot is probably a sign of being a sensory seeker.

With the sense of smell, I have a love/hate relationship. I love my essential oil diffuser, but don’t usually wear perfumes and can’t really stand anyone else wearing them.

In the tactile sense, I’m definitely a sensory seeker. This doesn’t mean I like all kinds of touch. I mean, I can’t stand it when people unexpectedly pat me on the back. Truthfully though, it should really go without saying that you should never touch another person without asking them first.

However, I love tight hugs, or used to before I broke my collarbone in 2019, which never properly healed. I also love to be rough when brushing my hair and am probably a bit rough when brushing my teeth too. When I wear my hair in a ponytail, it has to be tight too. And my shoelaces can’t really be tied too tightly. And yes, my spouse took up the challenge, only to tell me that, even though I didn’t think they were too tight, they actually were.

I of course need to mention my weighted blanket here too. It is 12kg, which is between 20 and 25% of my body weight. That’s on the heavy side as far as I’m aware. Of course, I got it when I still weighed nearly 20kg more than I weigh now, but then I’d often end up adding another weighted blanket on top of it.

Another aspect of sensory seeking I need to mention is being in constant motion, even if it’s small movements with my fingers or toes. I am not diagnosed with ADHD, though sometimes I think I could have it. I wasn’t extremely hyper as a child – in fact, my parents would describe me as a quiet child. However, I was definitely jumping onto lots of things. I no longer do this, but mostly because I can’t due to my decreased mobility. Now that I think of it, honestly I’m pretty sure that my need to walk a lot, is also a sign of sensory seeking and/or hyperactivity.

With respect to the sense of sound, I’m not generally a seeker. I do listen to soothing music on my music pillow when trying to get to sleep, but that’s it. I can’t stand background noise. Like, some staff suggest we have music on in the background while we play games, but I really can’t concentrate then.

Lastly, of course, is the sense of sight. I’m blind now, obviously, but when I was younger, I still had some sight. I definitely was a sensory seeker when it came to the visual modality. The most striking example is the fact that I’d often make shadows on my desk with my hands and look at them.

There are many other ways in which I express sensory seeking, but you get the idea. All this being the case, don’t discount my sensory overload just because I can be a seeker in other circumstances.

Also linking up with Senior Salon Pit Stop.

TGIF: Lonely in a Crowd

Posted on October 21, 2022 by Astrid

Today, Paula Light talks about loneliness in her TGIF post and I thought I’d follow suit. There is this weird feeling when you feel loneliest when surrounded by a roomful of people. I’ve been feeling this way lately.

It’s not as bad as it was during my high school years, when I felt isolated in the full cafeteria because I knew no-one wanted to talk to me. I mean, back then, especially in the first year, classmates were assigned to guide me through the building and I’d be sitting during lunch break with whoever was my guide for the day. It was very obvious that most if not all classmates didn’t want me there.

The situation is different now. My fellow residents definitely do seem to want me in the living room with them. Several ask when I’m coming to have coffee there again as opposed to in my room. Some specifically come out of their rooms to join me when they hear my voice. In short, it isn’t that I’m unwanted.

And in a sense, it isn’t that I can’t connect either, although that’s probably more where my loneliness is coming from. I struggle to strike up conversations with my fellow clients especially when more than one person is talking at the same time and even more so when the staff are having a separate conversation among themselves. I also get overloaded really easily, but don’t tend to notice until it’s too late. As a result, I struggle with a need for connection but also a need for a sensory-friendly environment and these often clash. Lately, I’ve chosen connection, but I fear this will lead my staff to decide I am ready for less one-on-one support. I don’t want to be seen as too demanding of attention, but when my needs clash, I really do need support to find the right balance.

Writer’s Workshop: If I Could Change One Thing About Myself

Posted on March 6, 2020 by Astrid

Mama Kat in one of her prompts for this week asks us what one thing we would change about ourselves if we could. She also asks us to think on why it can’t be changed.

This is pretty much a no-brainer to me. If there’s one thing I could pick to change about myself, it would be to widen my window of tolerance. The window of tolerance is the window at which point someone is stimulated enough that they aren’t bored too much, but not so much that they are overloaded. Each individual’s window of tolerance is different. Some people thrive on challenging activities and exciting stimuli. Others can barely handle any sensory or cognitive demands. I belong to the latter category.

If I’m correct, the window of tolerance also refers to the ability to tolerate distress or frustration. My distress tolerance is and has always been extremely poor.

So why can’t it be changed? Well, I tried. Ever since I was a little child, psychologists have recommended I work on distress tolerance. Now I must say I really wasn’t aware of the problem at all until I was about eleven, but even when I was, I had no idea how to heighten my distress tolerance.

My tolerance for sensory and cognitive demands was manageable up until I suffered autistic burnout at age 21. I mean, I was in classrooms with 30+ students in them, doing my schoolwork at a high level high school. Ever since my burnout though, I’ve hardly been able to function in group settings without getting overloaded. I also can’t seem to handle any sort of pressure.

In 2017, when I was being kicked out of the psychiatric hospital, it was recommended that I do dialectical behavior therapy (DBT). One of the modules of DBT is distress tolerance. The community psychiatric nurse (CPN) who started DBT with me, even wrote increasing my frustration tolerance as a treatment goal without my having asked her to. I didn’t see how I could work on this. After all, seeing this goal written on my treatment plan already created such immense pressure that I felt overloaded without even trying to work on the goal.

I know I have a bit of an external locus of control. This seems to be tied in with poor distress tolerance. I mean, it isn’t that I genuinely think the world owes me a sensory-friendly, low-demand environment. However, I can’t see how I can work on changing my ability to handle sensory stimuli, demands and distress.