Vital to have a quiet living environment for this autistic woman

I am like an almost empty glass (there's always a little anxiety stored) when I leave home. That glass quickly fills up with sensory stimuli. I become overloaded and need to return soon or I will go into sensory overload, have a meltdown and wind up hurting myself and possibly others.
At home, there isn't a constant barrage of noise. Thankfully, nobody directly around my house has kids. There are dogs next door, and I do use three different white-noise machines throughout my home to keep me as calm and functional as possible.
Having autism, I feel everything around me to the extreme. I feel extremely angry with someone if they hurt my feelings (intentional or not). I have to get away to a quiet place so I won't harm them or myself.
I have to get away to a place devoid of sensory stimuli to calm down and mentally unpack the stressful events to get to a place where I am rational enough to engage with the world again. That can mean hours or days.
I will always need as quiet an environment as possible in which to live. I hope more housing opportunities for autistic people with sensory issues and impulse control will spread throughout the country and world. Especially for those who cannot financially support themselves and rely on SSI or SSDI.

On the fringe: autism and family gatherings

Child covering ears Family gatherings are noisey. There are a myriad of voices that range in pitch and volume. There is that one person who laughs so loud that tears well in my eyes. Boys yell and bang on the piano. Someone is taking a photo with flash. Greeting people is part of being polite, even when you are already in sensory overload. Perfumes and colognes combine and foods from the kitchen circulate. Men yell at the football game and women laugh at something funny. All this is taken in at the door. There is a long way to wade through before I can put my coat in a quiet bedroom. I have to remember to smile and say "hello" as well as accept hugs. There are a few cousins who cannot stand my presence, though, at age 5, I don't know what I could have possibly done to upset them. I am asked, "Why do you plug your ears?" I am told repeatedly that nobody wants me here. I am the only one who isn't part of a group. Sometimes, I get bullied. A parent ...

To the dad who removed his crying toddler from the waiting room

Young female child crying First of all, thank you VERY MUCH for your thoughtfulness in choosing to remove your crying toddler from the OB/GYN waiting room. I am sure it was boring for your daughter to wait on top of being sick. I could hear the mucus rattle when she coughed. Being patient for a toddler is hard on a good day, but far harder when you are sick. My autistic brain can remember back to when I was a toddler. I was about to go in for my yearly exam. I had a meltdown earlier in the week and was dreading the pain and pressure that always comes from having a metal speculum inserted into my vagina. I have a very good doctor who is both practical and patient, but it is still a very uncomfortable experience. Not having to figure out how to run out of the office, possibly punch myself in the head or knock something over was a HUGE relief. I was able to remain seated and chew my stim pendant, filling out my paperwork (I wish they could just e-mail it-very stressful as I am ...

The Onion in the Petunia Patch Part Three

Young adulthood-present I attempted suicide when I was 17, six months before graduation. I was hospitalized for the first of what would be over 20 spanning from 1997-2006. More bullying and much more blame came from what was supposed to be a place of healing. I was told how spoiled I was, what a con-artist I was; manipulative (as if plugging my ears and screaming at the loud toddler visiting was my way of wanting to “get” something from someone-other than quiet). There were more suicide attempts. In 1998, I saw the next in a series of psychiatrists/psychologists. This man diagnosed me, wearily, with “autistic tendencies”. I was 19. I went on to getting into trouble with the law and almost being imprisoned. I firmly believe if it hadn't been for my mom’s nursing sense and persevering spirit, I would have gone to jail and would not be here today. I questioned God. I began to wonder if He really did exist. I decided that He did, but that He hated me, even was bullying me. How s...

Funkonovo/Allison's autism Blog

Search This Blog