Saturday, March 9, 2019

Hypersensitivity

I feel the need to talk about what I call my 'hypersensitivity'. I know that term is broad, and what I'm describing may actually be better described with another word, but it's the word I've always used.

I'm not going to go into the emotional sensitivity, although that could be a whole thing on its own. I want to focus on the more physical piece. Partly because I know it can be hard for the people around me to understand, and partly because a lot of people around me don't actually know any of this. 

Let's start with the baseline level. My baseline level of sensitivity, particularly to touch but also sound, is already pretty darn skewed. I am ridiculously ticklish - everywhere on my body is susceptible to tickling from any form of light to moderate touch. I don't have ticklish spots, I am one giant ticklish spot. I also startle easily (and go into punchy mode when startled, most people only startle me once and then decide they don't want to do that again), and find loud or chaotic environments very stressful. However, I am pretty good at coping with the world when in my baseline state and can make do.

But then there are the times I go into overdrive. It's almost like my nervous system goes on the fritz and just doesn't know what to do. 

For touch, this looks like me suddenly finding almost any touch incredibly unpleasant. Even touch that I normally like suddenly sets all of my nerves screaming. It isn't quite pain, but it also isn't quite not pain. Some level of very firm, very predictable touch can be comforting in these moments, but even then it's really hard to say. I'm lucky that I'm not bothered by clothing or textures around me too much during these times (I know some people are). 

For hearing, this means that I will suddenly find noises too loud (even if the rest of the time I would find them tolerable). I also will startle easily from moderate-loud noises, or just find the entire environment overwhelming. This leads to a panicky feeling, and again that not-pain-but-kind-of-pain sensation. For example, we went to dinner tonight at a restaurant that had the hockey game on at high volume. The entire time I was in that restaurant, it was like a prolonged version of the nails-on-chalkboard experience. My spine was on fire with discomfort, I had to focus on an e-book to try to tune everything out, and my brain was screaming at me to leave. I literally sighed in relief when we left the restaurant. 

For sight, this can be an exaggerated startle reflex or it can be finding movement out of the corner of my eye intensely irritating. This particularly happens with small, repeated motions just out of my area of focus (cue nails-on-chalkboard feeling). It can also be general sensitivity to light, and a need to go into a darker room. 

I also can get sent into this state by having too many demands at once, this is part of why I realized I could never go back to being a classroom teacher for K - 12. You can't go into a state of shut down in the classroom when too much is happening at once, you have to be able to respond to it all.

Why am I telling you this? 

Partly because I know it's hard for the people who experience being around me when it happens to understand. My mom didn't know what to do with my touch sensitivity when I was a kid, to give you an idea of how wonderful and new-age my she is, she would instead just sit and try to 'rub my aura' since she couldn't actually touch me. I know it sometimes hurts people and feels like rejection when I suddenly can't handle touch or being talked to or being interacted with.

If this happens, I promise it's not you. It's not what you're trying to share with me, or a lack of love and appreciation for you. It's me and my weirdly wired nervous system. 

I also share this for those who don't deal with it as directly, but spend time with me and may have noticed me suddenly get very irritable over things that seem small. Almost always that means I'm in this state or trying to stop from going into it. Or I'm hungry, which I also react adversely to (maybe connected?). I just am pretty good at hiding this when I'm out and about in the world. But watch - there's a good chance I will disappear as soon as I can. You'll find me somewhere with my headphones on and my eyes closed trying to cancel out the world. 

And finally, I share it so I can share what I need in these times. Because I know it's hard when someone you love is suddenly reacting so strongly to things they may otherwise not react to. I can't say that what works for me works for everyone, but here is what I generally need and how to help me: 
  • Alone time. Preferably somewhere where I can be in control of my environment. I need time where I can control what stimuli I am exposed to (touch, sound, sight) and with reduced stimuli to let my nervous system relax. Depending on how intense my reaction is, this may mean hours or even days. 
  • If that's not possible, then any control I can be given over my environment can help. Maybe it's not possible for me to leave the loud space (such as attending a conference), but if I can get to a more open space where I can prevent being bumped into and be in control of what/who touches me that can bring the edge off. Noise cancelling headphones are a blessing for being able to be in control of my sound environment at times. 
  • Comfort items can also help when I'm not able to have alone time. This might be something like a heavy blanket, or something cool to touch, or a fidget to play with.
  • Try to have patience. I'm a walking contradiction. I love touch, especially hugs, until all of a sudden I don't. I love vibrant music and art until all of a sudden I can't stand any of it. I want to be in the thick of people and life and joy, until I need to be alone and in control. And I have no control over how this all works. I'm trying, I promise I am.