Are you an Easy Whistle-Noser? A Vicious Whistle-Noser? Not sure? Read on to find out where you and yours might fit -- or have a fit -- in our corner of the Sensory Spectrum.
For some of the Full Spectrums, Sensory
Processing Differences mean that sometimes we simply cannot process the whole
package of sensory input in a given context -- or that we process it very, very
slowly -- because one element is (or a
few other elements are) overwhelming. In other words, the processing
(registering, digesting, understanding) of one impression among a multitude –
whether visual, auditory, aural, proprioceptive… -- utilizes all the energy we
have available for that function in a given moment.
Sensory Processing Differences sometimes force
or inspire us to get totally lost in the experience of what we are sensing. In
some instances this can be to the detriment of “successful” interactions with
the “normal” world; in some instances (sometimes the very same instances), this
can result in extraordinary creativity and emotional bliss.
With Sensory Processing Differences, when we do
(or taste or smell or see or feel…) certain things (or do/taste/smell/see/feel…too
much of even non-triggering things) we get anxious, irritable, dazed, even sick
(helloooo, migraines) because our neurology cannot prioritize or cope with sensory
input in such a way that it is manageable. Further, we may not even NOTICE that
we are anxious, irritable, dazed, sick…because we are processing something
else.
Processing one or a few aspects of our sensory
environment -- say, the presence of people, or people plus sounds
– can preclude effective simultaneous processing of most other aspects, such
as:
what
we are thinking or feeling,
what
we are learning,
what
we see,
what
we smell,
where
our bodies are in space (proprioception, vestibular function),
what
those people are saying or expressing in social cues…
Later, we can sometimes put it together, in a
sort of delayed processing process, if you will. In the moment? Too much.
Here are some examples of SPD in daily Full
Spectrum life:
WHISTLE NOSE
Some of the Full Spectrums are Ultra-Norms in
the sensory department: both Z and Pardner are neurotypical. This means, among
other things, that they manage and process the sensory experiences of daily
life with ease and aplomb – thoughtlessly, effortlessly... (It might be worth
noting that all parties mentioned herein with Sensory Processing Differences
(G, myself, Full Spectrum Grandmother) are biologically-related – and all those
without SPDs are not.)
I once literally shocked Pardner by mentioning
– casually, because to me this was obvious
– that sometimes in the night when I
wake up I cannot go back to sleep because of the whistling sound my nose makes
when slightly stuffed up. Rationally, I know it’s just a small noise that is
coming from my breathing and that I should ignore it, but – trust me on this- I
cannot, even as I know full well I am losing precious, precious sleep.
Figure I – Whistle Nose
“Whistle Nose” was the name we’d made up long
ago for this phenomenon…a phenomenon which apparently had profoundly divergent
meanings on the Sensory Processing Spectrum embodied between us. We were both
totally surprised to discover after all these years that we’d each had very
different feelings about Whistle Nose!
To Pardner, someone with “normal” sensory
capabilities, Whistle Nose was simply something funny that happens sometimes.
For me? Sure, there was potentially a somewhat humorous aspect to it, at least
during designated waking hours. But, mostly, to this Highly Sensitive Person,
Whistle Nose is a mild but pernicious form of torture that can actually adversely affect
my quality of life.
SCHOOL
Where can I even begin with School? Even at its
most pared down, there is just way, way too much going on in the classroom for
my son G’s learning/academic brain to function anywhere close to optimally. How
this manifests is in increased dysgraphia (writing issues, simplistically
speaking) and dyspraxia (coordination challenges, ditto), decreased
organization and intellectual progress, and highly awkward social interactions
on his end.
Getting the “right” things to be background so
that the important thing(s) can be in the foreground for healthy, efficient
processing is a complicated and ongoing endeavor.
His Team and I have long agreed that the
benefits of being in the classroom outweigh the negatives (another post…), but
it bears inclusion in this post
because pretty much anyone with SPD is going to find any institutional setting
– such as a store, or an office, not to mention school – challenging. Knowing
this, we can at least investigate ways to improve and/or modify such common yet
impactful situations.
SMALL WINDOW OF COMFORT
Full Spectrum Grandmother uses this phrase to
describe herself, and it resonates for G and me as well. Before we learned
about SPDs it was a helpful, slightly jokey way to convey to others that she –
like certain other Full Spectrums – is intensely affected by her environment.
One area of sensitivity has always been temperature, and Full Spectrum
Grandmother has been known to alternate air conditioning with extra socks and
sweaters in her ongoing attempt to find her “just right” temperature. Just last
weekend, she told me she was having a challenging time figuring out where to
stand in the back yard: “In the sun,
it’s too hot; in the shade-too cold!”
We get it. We are the ones trying to get comfortable
over here while you move back and forth in the grass, Full Spectrum
Grandmother. Really, for many of we Full Spectrums, any number of sensory
impressions can preoccupy, consume, even injure, us. (See: G with visuals and
auditory; Mama with, oh, just about anything, but especially light and
artificial scents…)
Textures and tightness are another Window of
Comfort concern for Full Spectrum Grandmother. Things that are too tight can
make it hard to focus; things that are too loose can be dysregulating as well.
Rough textures can, in effect, abrade the brain; soft can feel disconcertingly
– and distractingly - slimy…
Figure II – Small Window of Comfort Spectrum
Trivial? Maybe to someone whose brain doesn’t
red-alert things like temperature, texture and fit so that they occupy the
neural vanguard of one’s existence to the exclusion of much else!
ALEXITHYMIA
In our particular
Autism Spectrum chunk live two people with extremely advanced verbal skills and
the verbal processing ability of two hunks of cheese. Alexithymia is defined as
difficulties in perceiving, defining and expressing emotions; and although we
may not exactly fit some of the clinical definition (impaired creativity? Au contraire.),
it’s in many ways a good name for what we experience.
Whoohoo! There is a word for this!
For some, alexithymia
is permanent; for us, it is mostly situational and sometimes temporary – but
always a challenge. For example, both G and I are extremely sensitive and are
prone to having a feeling. When we get that feeling maybe we will be shaking or
crying or angry – but we cannot explain what the feeling is and/or why we are
having it at that moment. One very important repercussion: we cannot “justify”
that feeling to others, especially the person (or persons) associated therewith. This can feel very destabilizing and unfair. We know we are having an emotion,
but that emotion PLUS OTHER STUFF (people, words…) equals far too much to make
sense of at once, never mind hold our own in interaction.
One problem with this
scenario is that people often will want to
talk about things as they occur -- which is not generally something that we
would be able to do with clarity in that moment!
After we have plenty
of time and space to PROCESS what happened, we can usually (not always) give a
cogent explanation both of what the feeling was and why we were having that
feeling in that context. If people are willing to wait, this is when we might
be able to explain ourselves and our reactions…for me, preferably in writing.
G is being raised in a
family where it’s totally fine to cry, even when you don’t know why you are
crying. I was raised in a WASPY family where nobody talked about their feelings.
It took me a long time to realize that I was actually unable (vs. disinclined)
to talk about my feelings because they were too strong to understand in real
time. There’s a big difference. WASPS may choose not to talk about feelings;
alexithymia removes that choice.
This relates on a very basic level to SPD.
Think of it like this: If I am listening to you -- and actually hearing and
understanding you -- I am probably not looking at you (or at least truly seeing
you). If I have a big feeling about our interaction while I am listening to you,
unless the understanding of this
feeling is given the neurological front seat (which is not under my control in
that moment, and so unlikely), it may just look like I am dazed…or barely
holding my own in conversation…I may seem very upset (possibly for unclear reasons) or I
may seem just fine. I will probably remember every word you said because of a
different neurological quirk (eidetic memory) – and that’s good, because the
real impact/import of our interaction will for me only emerge over time.
G and I – not always but a lot of the time and
most assuredly when feelings are strong – do not essentially “know” what we are
feeling until after the fact. For us,
alexithymia is inextricably linked to SPD. G and his generation, as people
growing up with more awareness around SPDs, will have a lot more in their toolboxes
to develop self-awareness, moderation and expression than older generations. At
the same time, this growing awareness has – I hope -- enabled many of us to
feel more comfortable saying stuff like, “I can’t fully process this right now.
I will get back to you about it later.”
Is that enough input? Probably! Just one last
bit: Learning about Sensory Processing has brought us some relief, particularly
through the use of Sensory Diets and Sensory Breaks. More good
news: using these techniques and insights will probably bring subtle but
pervasive benefits to your lives, not just your, you know, senses and
processing. Once you know you are experiencing Sensory Processing Differences,
there are a lot of general resources online, so I have just shared some of our sometimes-quirky
personal solutions below.
1.
A Sensory
Diet can be therapeutic and formal, or it can be a way of being more
conscious and evaluative about how we move through our days. Regulating and
actively engaging with what you and/or your child consume/experience through
your environment, even just a fraction of the time, can be super helpful. This
may mean small steps like avoiding the cleaning products aisle at big box
stores – or avoiding big box stores (the lights! aaaaaaaack!) altogether when
possible. It may mean finding new ways to introduce your child or yourself to
new textures and tastes -- or it may mean finding ways to get the nutrition you
need without exposing yourself or your child to edible agony. It may – may! - even
ultimately mean transcending food-related sensory challenges by being really
smart and lucky about your overall sensory diet over time! It may manifest as
it does for us in planning plenty of down time on the weekends – and being
emotionally prepared for those frequent days when we cannot avoid doing too
much.
Setting
boundaries on what you do and where you go can feel burdensome, but it feels
less so when you realize that you are actually able to enjoy, process and
integrate what you do do.
2.
There is
little a real Sensory Break cannot soothe, if one is available. The key
is having the wherewithal (a small patch of uncluttered mental space?!) to
REMEMBER to take that Sensory Break – or to offer one to your child or someone else
you know who needs one! (My dear friend Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg
introduced me to this concept and I will forever be grateful.) Many schools now
have Sensory Break Rooms. Some kids might need intense movement or “arousing”
activities, others, complete silence and darkness or “calming” activities…I’m
not crazy about labels like “under-reactive,” over-reactive,” etc., but you can
figure out what works for you and yours with creative experimentation.
For adults and children, that key ingredient of
a good Sensory Diet – the Sensory Break -- can be as simple as going to the
nearest bathroom (or even closet), closing the door, covering your eyes and
ears with your fingers and taking deep breaths. Please, in the name of all that
is holy, let there not be an air freshener in the bathroom. And, thank you in
advance, dear universe, if it is not too much to ask, no Whistle Nose.
Love,
Full Spectrum Mama
