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My ball of wool



Imagine a sound that you absolutely cannot stand at even a low volume. Maybe it's a lawnmower, jackhammer, birds chirping, or sub woofers thumping from a passing car. Maybe it's a complex sound as in a song-THE ONE SONG YOU ABSOLUTELY CANNOT STAND TO HEAR because it brings up turbulent emotions each time you hear it or it makes you angry because it demeans women and/or minorities. 
If you are more visually oriented, imagine the worst nightmare you ever dreamed, watching someone you love die, blinding strobe lights. If you are tactility inclined, maybe it is the feel of wool or burlap being brushed against your skin. Now imagine what ever the dreaded thing is- that it is pervasive. There is no escape from it. If you turn on your TV, there will be a flashing strobe light on every single channel you watch. If you go outside, birds will chirp, not only in the spring and summer, but also in fall and winter-all day and all night.
 At your work/school you will brush up against wool walls, furniture, and electronics-everything you come into contact with including your clothes will be wool. Add this to your entertainment schedule, too. Whatever the dreaded thing is, it will be in restaurants, amusement parks, movie-theaters. Your only choice is to flee and remain in isolation.
 Don't expect much sympathy from most NT's or even some ASDs, either. Some common things you can expect to hear are "Birds are dear little creatures-how can you hate birds?" But you don't hate the bird, do you; you hate the noise the bird makes. "Strobe-lights are sweet, dude, wear sunglasses!" "Wool is durable fabric! Be glad you have clean, warm clothes!" 
Summary: If you are autistic and have a sensory integration disorder specifically centered around one thing (alive or inanimate), you will be seen as a hater of the thing than as a sufferer of the byproduct caused by the thing. 
It's not the thing's fault. Birds must sing in order to mate and secure their species. Wool and strobe lights are what they are. None of these things have waged a personal vendetta on you. It just happened that you were born autistic and had sensory integration disorder that wasn’t treated or is in the process of being treated.
At the moment, however, none of this can help you, because wherever you go and whatever you do, whatever it is that melts you down, keeps you home, unemployed, and depressed, because it exists everywhere and you have not learned to cope with it, making you feel like you are a brand of autistic uniquely apart. And that, folks is a place colder than hell frozen over. 
My ball of wool? CHILDREN. Babies and toddlers. They cry, squeal, scream, and squawk-which is what kids do. Unfortunately, something is not wired right in my brain-and hasn't ever been but worsened during my teen years. 
I've been down many mean streets and hard journeys throughout my 21 year sojourn in my never-ending treatment odyssey. My mom sojourned along with me until her death in 2014. 

It isn't until more recently that I underwent  therapies to force my brain to change some of the way it is structured.This is the best way I can describe my sensory sensitivities to you. 
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