Being Over-Sensorized
"Over-sensorized"
This is a phrase I created. I use it often and sometimes write it in email and social posts. I know it's not grammatically correct, but I prefer to use it to express what happens when my senses are bombarded with inputs beyond their specifications.
As someone with Aspergers, my senses (sight, sound, touch, taste) are extremely heightened and sensitive. It's like seeing and hearing everything in 4D, all the time. Neurotypical people can block unnecessary stimuli and information that they do not need. Autistics can’t. They see every little thing in detail, all - the - time.
If I am faced with unaesthetic and haphazard visuals, loud noise and sounds, environmental smells, uncomfortable textures (no clothing labels ever), bright lights, extreme cold or hot temperatures, confusing human communication, and excessive socialization. These are Kryptonite to my Central Processing Unit (my brain).
My biggest sensory sensitivity is sound. It is no accident that I am a songwriter where sound is my primary vehicle of expression. Loud noises, people's chatter, construction noise, loud music, ambulance sirens, car honks, children crying, and background music in stores, these things literally kill my brain. These things can be too much for me.
As I say, hell, to me is a going to the store. When my eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and skin receive too much information over a prolonged period, I get "over-sensorized," and my energy dips. I crash, a bit like the screen of death or the rainbow cursor for you Mac users. Unfortunately, unlike a computer, I do not have a restart or shutdown switch. So I have to restart and shut down in other ways.
Most importantly, I need to take decisive steps to avoid these breakdowns as much as possible.
Yes, these are great gifts and superpowers that come with this heightened sensitivity. I can pick up details at a glance and notice subtle things that others may not when I walk into a room. I can live comfortably in quiet, remote places. I could handle long periods of silence with minimal social contact, which some can find extremely difficult or go insane if they had to. This can help tremendously in focusing on a project or task requiring it or dealing with living/working in remote areas. The idea of not having any background sounds or white noise may be highly uncomfortable for some people. For me, I thrive on it.
I love silence. I thrive in it. I think it was more normal and common a decade or so ago. However nowadays, there seems to be background music and noise everywhere we go. Some people go on hikes with a loud Bluetooth speaker blasting music (my biggest pet peeve - please use headphones so others can have a peaceful time) For me, silence is where I can finally hear my thoughts and inner voice and run my CPU at optimum levels. And my time with nature is my sacred time to connect with Mother Nature and the Universe.
I often wish I could live on a planet with other Commander Datas from Star Trek. I would surely not face as many meltdowns/shutdowns as I do here on this planet.
Here are my 12 tips to prevent sensory overload and how to cope with it if it happens anyway:
I quickly try to find a quiet and private place to be, e.g., the restroom, my car, or an outdoor park.
I try to make my way home as quickly as possible to surround myself in complete privacy. Every second counts here.
Sometimes, I end up in my bed, crying under my sensory blanket, up to my head. Sometimes it takes 30 minutes; sometimes, it takes several hours.
If I can't find a quiet place (such as at a wedding or some other gathering), am being forced to stay, and am unable to excuse myself, I would seek help from a relative to send me home. When I was in school, I would call my mother and say I needed to go home.
If I cannot remove myself from an over-sensorized situation, I excuse myself and do as many subtraction meditation sessions as possible.
Daily Nap. This time to recharge is so important to many of us autistics. Even if we are unable to nap, time alone in a quiet place while lying down with our eyes closed is still a great help to recharge in the middle of the day.
If I am going to a conference or event, I book a hotel room in the quietest wing in the same venue itself. This helps me to quickly escape and return to a safe space whenever I need to.
I schedule my calendar and appointments 1-2 weeks in advance to ensure I have enough quiet time before and after socialization, meetings, and loud environments.
I do not live in the city.
I turn off my phone daily and do not use text messages, Whatsapp, voice mails, etc. These multiple modes of communication over-sensorize me. I streamline all communication to email. I do in-person meetings or video calls as my second option. My last choice is audio phone calls, but I will do everything in my power to get out of it.
I avoid grocery stores, shopping malls, or any stores as much as possible. I get everything I need online.
Pre-COVID, I did not drive in the city and opted for Uber instead. If I have to drive, I rent or purchase an extremely quiet hybrid car. Good for the environment, good for my senses.
I hope you found this enlightening—just a tiny glimpse into the daily life of an Aspie. I know it is a lot of work, but it is a choice I do not have. Many people are unaware of how much we work to appear “normal” to people. Regardless, I am proud and happy to have Aspergers, and I truly love myself for it - gifts, flaws, and all.