Today, I got a new swing, a round 4ft, adult sized swing. Usually, when I get a new toy, I’m excited and want to play with it immediately, but today was a little different. Sensory overload hit, and this morning did not go as planned.
No one likes to pay bills, but it’s something we all have to deal with. Now don’t run away just yet. This post isn’t about bills, but I am an adult and it’s my responsibility to pay them. I have a hard time starting tasks, but the fact that these were due soon was enough motivation to get them out of the way today. Except, that’s not what happened. When I went to the website, it refused to accept my payment. In order to get it resolved, I needed to call the company. Of course it was a weekend, so customer service wasn’t available to help sort it out. Instead, I repeated the same steps over and over. Sensory overload took over.
What Sensory Overload Feels Like to Me
Sensory overload isn’t something new to me, and I think a lot of autistics could relate. The best way I’ve found to explain it is to imagine waking up first thing in the morning. Your brain isn’t fully working and there’s no coffee or help in sight. Instead, the fire alarm is blaring, your neighbor is playing disco music, lights are flickering on and off, and your clothes froze overnight, making you cold and unable to move. There isn’t a way out, but there isn’t actually anything wrong. The devices are just temporarily broken.
My partner came in the room and asked what I wanted for breakfast. Unfortunately, that made things worse. Already, all sounds hurt. They were too loud. I needed the world to shut up and snapped at him. Processing anything enough to respond was out of the question. He asked if I needed a hug, but I couldn’t be touched. I wanted to cry.
Thankfully, I was at home, so there were tools nearby to help. I grabbed my ear defenders to block out the majority of sounds. My dog, Cassie, came into the room to do DPT and lick my hands to keep me grounded. (I’ll write more about her in a later post.) My partner decided what to make for breakfast and left me alone to calm down. I switched tasks and avoided the worst.
The After Effects of Sensory Overload
What people don’t tell you about is the after effects, even from just approaching a meltdown. It’s like running a triathlon in record time. Exhaustion takes over your brain and body. I felt numb. My brain did not want to think anymore. It did not want to function. I did everything I could to keep up through the day. If you’ve heard of Spoon Theory, sensory overload takes all your spoons.
So when the Amazon delivery person arrived with my swing, I wasn’t excited. Outwardly, I showed no emotions. I had been waiting a week for the swing, after researching the best one for adults for almost a month. Yet, the arrival couldn’t have been on a worse day, or so I thought.
Despite my exhaustion, I put together the swing. Thankfully, it was easy to do and didn’t require much thought. During all of this, my partner came to the room. He asked if the swing made me happy, expecting to see my jumping up and down with excitement. I said “no” and continued to make the swing. Once outside, I adjusted the height and just laid on it, gently rocking back and forth. It was cold. My fingers were icicles, but I didn’t care. My partner came out with the dog and pushed me. It was perfect.
How to Help Someone With Sensory Overload
What I’ve been thinking about is how would someone know how to help and what that would look like. It would have been easy to interpret the sensory overload as being rude or that I’m “bad” because the cause was less obvious to others.
First, when someone is experiencing sensory overload, give them space. It’s okay to ask if they need anything, but you’ll likely get a better response with yes or no questions. For instance, asking what I wanted for breakfast was too much processing, but asking if I wanted my ear defenders (or getting them for me) would have been perfect.
Second, don’t take responses personally. I couldn’t control snapping or saying “go away” when my partner tried to help. He didn’t do anything wrong. My brain just couldn’t handle it. Being able to quickly move past this is incredibly helpful. Think back to the example with the fire alarm. You’re on high alert, and it’s the environment that’s the issue, not a person.
The final thing to remember is that just because things seem immediately better doesn’t mean the after effects are also over. Sometimes, this takes days to go away. In my case, the swing helped.
Showing Emotions
Emotions are the last thing to come back for me after sensory overload. Even though the swing made me happy, I wasn’t expressing it and I couldn’t even recognize it myself. I probably looked like a robot going through the steps to assemble it.
For this one, I think watching where I spend effort would show my emotion. When my brain is shutting down, where I devote effort to is likely what I think will make me happiest. Somehow it knew to make the swing. Looking back now, if I was unable to put it together myself, watching someone else do it for me would have helped as well. When communication fails, it’s hard to figure out what to do, but in the end, it was the best day I could have had.
