April 2026 In Review

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’m once again joining Natalie’s monthly recap. April was a month of high hopes. I started my new day schedule, which I figured out pretty quickly wasn’t working, in part because my assigned staff had randomly added several unrelated activities to each time slot. What I had hoped for, was a schedule organized around activities that logically follow one another, rather than it being about rigid time slots. I’m still trying to persuade my assigned staff (who is unfortunately still on part-time sick leave), my support coordinator (who will be off for a long while starting next week) and the behavior specialist (who I have only spoken to once) to change this. However, even though I explained why I believe it’d work in several E-mails, I doubt it’ll be implemented, simply because it requires my staff to be more flexible with my one-on-one.

I’ve realized more and more over the past month that no-one really knows my needs. And that includes me. Some people say I’m autistic and need lots of structure and “clarity” (which they confuse with bluntness). Others believe I have attachment issues and need to build trust in my staff, only to be told that I do chatter to some random temp workers so it’s just me being unwilling. Some say that my emotional development is comparable to that of a toddler while others counter that I’m verbally more capable than some of them. Some say I need to process my trauma, but all the while they add extra layers onto it. And that’s not even speaking about my brain injury, my blindness or the fact that I’m “getting older”, which my physician blames for everything.

This month included a few cooking and baking activities, but not as many as my day schedule allows for. I only did crafty activities twice even though it’s now in my day schedule twice a week. Staff often blame me for not “wanting” even though the few times staff actually asked me, I did get something done. Thankfully, I still do enjoy each time I get to do a cooking or baking activity, work with polymer clay or ride the side-by-side bike.

I’m trying to consume fewer animal products. I was inspired both by my wife, who is a vegan, as well as by the new Dutch food pyramid. I cooked a vegan curry for this side of the home at the end of March. In early April, I cooked a chicken pasta for myself, but the other two meals I cooked this past month have been vegan. One was another curry. The image description app I used correctly identified one of the ingredients as sweet potato, which I think is rather cool.

The other was baked potatoes, onion, bell peppers and a veggie schnitzel (which the EU has decided soon can’t be called schnitzel anymore due to it not containing animal, despite no-one knowing where a cow’s schnitzel is located on its body).

Last month, I said the month was hard only to conclude at the end of writing my post that it was better than I had initially thought. I unfortunately can’t say so of April. The last few days have been slightly less horrible than the weeks prior, but I’m not getting my hopes up about this continuing in the right direction. I feel a little guilty about this, because I did do more cooking activities than I used to do. I’m wondering whether I might be depressed or something. Since I’m also experiencing significantly more sensory overload than I used to, something neurological might also be going on. I’m getting bloodwork soon to rule out a vitamin deficiency (possibly B12), because I’ve been on pantoprazole in a high dose for years and have a history of several deficiencies. I’m not sure what I hope the test will show.

Unmasking…

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’ve been struggling intensely for a while now. The aggressive meltdown that caused me to land with my head on the floor (as I mentioned in the comments on that post, I wasn’t actually thrown) was only the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. I’ve been having chronic headaches and nausea that the doctor says aren’t due to the fall. Last Wednesday, I had a fever just when the doctor took my temp, so she concluded I must have the flu or something. I doubt it, as I didn’t have a fever any other time my temp was taken and I’m not having any other flu symptoms. I’m more sensitive to stimuli, mostly sounds and scents, than I used to be. Unfortunately, my ability to argue hasn’t gone, so the staff believe I’m “oppressing” them when I refuse them access to my room when wearing strong perfumes. This morning, my support coordinator told me to stop pacing my room, saying it’s compulsive and that compulsive behavior only worsens over time. She may be right about that, but it’s not like I’m doing anyone any harm by pacing and it’s not like the staff deal with the reason for my being more compulsive. I’m pretty sure I’m in significant burnout and the obvious solution to my staff seems to be to repress my behaviors that indicate I’m in distress.

I’m trying to read up and listen to podcasts on autistic self-discovery and unmasking. Not that I have the attention span to read for longer than about fifteen minutes at a time. Or that I think any of the recommendations I find, are useful to me, simply because I have an institution and rather behaviorist staff to deal with. I’m also unsure where to draw the line between valid unmasking and infringing upon other people’s rights. For example, apparently I’m not allowed to ask staff to wear less perfume because that’s “oppressive” and I don’t know where it’ll end when I keep “choosing” to be by myself rather than accepting staff who are essentially presenting in a willfully overloading manner.

Hypervigilance in Trauma Survivors #AtoZChallenge

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone and welcome to my letter H post in the #AtoZChallenge. Today, I want to talk about a major symptom of (complex) PTSD which I struggle with a lot: hypervigilance.

Hypervigilance is an increased awareness of one’s environment and seemingly unimportant details in it. That is, often people who experience hypervigilance constantly scan their surroundings for signs of threat, but that doesn’t mean they’re hyper aware of everything going on. In fact, they often miss out on actually important aspects of their surroundings, such as missing part of a conversation they’re having.

There is a sensory aspect to hypervigilance, ie. increased sensitivity to noise, smells or other sensory stimuli. However, there are also cognitive and emotional aspects to it. People who are hypervigilant due to (complex) PTSD often overanalyze the things happening around them and too easily perceive them as threatening.

I for one commonly overanalyze things that I perceive. It doesn’t help that people often expect me to appraise already overloading stimuli differently based on other factors involved. Like, due to being autistic, I get very easily overwhelmed by loud noises, crowded environments, etc. However, due to both autism and C-PTSD, I also overanalyze my perceptions. For example, I often judge myself for being overwhelmed because, for instance, my fellow residents “can’t help” making certain noises.

People with complex PTSD often experience hypervigilance about other people’s intentions too. I for one am always looking for signs that the people who mean the most to me are going to betray me. It’s not like I want to, but that’s been my experience most of my life.

Hypervigilance can also show up in physical symptoms. An increased startle reflex is part of the diagnostic criteria for PTSD. Many people with (C-)PTSD also struggle to relax even when there are no sudden stimuli or changes to the environment. Which, now that I type it, I realize is nonsense: the environment is always changing even when people who aren’t neurodivergent or trauma survivors or both, do not notice. I last week had a meltdown because I was overwhelmed by the sounds in the living room, only to be told by the staff that it was totally silent. Well, except for a fellow resident’s tablet, the TV, the dishwasher and I’m not even counting the relatively “minor” everyday sounds, like birds chirping outside, the staff station clock ticking, etc.

Anyway, hypervigilance like I said can show up as physical symptoms. Many people experience an increased heartrate, heavy breathing, higher blood pressure, etc. After all, stress (and hypervigilance is majorly stressful) activates the body’s nervous system.

I don’t yet know what can be done about hypervigilance. I follow movement therapy, but so far, it’s incredibly slow-going. It doesn’t help that, like I said above, the world is ever-changing. In other words, even though my therapist talks about baby steps, I know the real world doesn’t work like that.

How Sensory Seeking Manifests in Me

Posted on 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.

My Random Musings

Also linking up with Senior Salon Pit Stop.

TGIF: Lonely in a Crowd

Posted on 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 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.

Mama’s Losin’ It