Overstimulation. Its something people with Asperger's deal with on a nearly constant basis. Although what overstimulates an Aspie can differ in a lot of respects. It can range from sounds, lights, fragrances, touch, you name it. Everybody's got a tolerance threshold for all these things, but an Aspie's threshold can be very small, and you can run head long into it very quickly in today's world.
For me, its a couple of things. The first is crowds. I hate crowds. I say that and most NT's (NeuroTypicals a.k.a. Non-Aspies) are like, "Oh yeah, I hate crowds too." No, no. I mean, if the nice lady blocking the only exit out of a very expensive engraving store in the mall hadn't seen the frantic look in my eyes as I went hauling for the door, I may still be paying off damages.
The second thing for me is sound. Some sounds drive me insane. Finger snapping, yelling, high pitches, these are just a few sounds that can quickly send me over the Aspie-edge.
Lastly, fragrances. Alot of perfumes cause me to get irritable, edgy, slight headaches. They just overwhelm me! Walking though a perfume department in a store is like a Mike Tyson-Stimuli beating my brain and then biting off its ear. I tend to avoid them if at all possible, or at the very least, hold my breath.
Most people know that once an Aspie gets overstimulated, we need just the opposite, very little to no stimulation. Sometimes we need stimulation of a different sort. Some Aspies, like me, bounce their leg up and down all day and drive people crazy sitting behind us in a booth in a restaurant. Some Aspies like to rock themselves (which I do sometimes), or fidget with their hands, or bite their nails. A lot of things we consider to be "nervous tics" can often just be a form of stimming.
So with all this stimuli in the modern world, what's an Aspie to do??
One thing I find that helps, although it takes some practice, is having what I call an "anchor." My anchor just happens to be my daughter. I'll give you an example. I love Disney World. Love love love it. However, its not without a hefty price on my emotional and mental well-being. You can just imagine how taxing a place like that must be for an Aspie, and you'd be right! It drains me like nothing else. However, since I can't stop the drain, I can at least keep the immediate behavioral consequences in check with my anchor. What I call an anchor is just something to keep you grounded, something to focus on, one single simple something, that keeps you from flipping out entirely. I love my daughter dearly, and so she calms me. When we're waiting 30 minutes in line for "It's A Small World" and I'm surrounded by sweaty strangers, I can scoop her up, and she talks to me softly and she pets my cheek and she calms me. She's not a shield though. I'm still going to suffer later, but in the meantime, I can enjoy life with my family like a NT would. I've read about other kids who use this practice with stuffed animals or small toys that they can sort of channel their emotions into. I won't say it works for everyone, and it certainly takes a LOT of practice to put the blinders on and focus on your anchor, but in the end its well worth it if you can succeed.

No comments:
Post a Comment