Josh, neurodiverse: Looking back, the issues I had with so many things made it really obvious that I just wasn’t “normal.” I guess at the time I was just considered very particular. And like most areas of my life, I think back to issues I’ve had in the past, and how, knowing what I now, know would have completely changed things.
Our pets are important for both of our sensory and affection needs!
Visually, I think I am pretty average and nothing in particular stands out. However, being epileptic (while I was diagnosed with ASD as an adult, I was diagnosed with epilepsy as a child) certainly puts some restrictions on things. Largely I think of my brain like a computer with a slow processor in this regard. If there are too many stimuli too fast, like spinning around on something or a fast-moving thing, I am fine while whatever is going on. But once it's over, it is like everything my brain didn’t process catches up in an instant and I have a seizure. But it isn’t like that with everything, and always has seemed to be more related to me not having a focal point. An example that comes to mind is water skiing. It doesn’t faze me at all because while everything is going by so quickly, I am intently focused on the path I am taking, more than anything else.
Auditory and sound are far more impacting to me. In general, unexpected sound result in aggressive behavior and anxiety. Ridiculously, balloons are a great example. Just the possibility that they could pop is enough that I can’t be around them. I either have to pop them or remove myself; it's reaches the level of a panic attack. Fireworks are another good example. You know all the stuff you hear about each 4th of July regarding dogs and fireworks? It pretty much all pertains to me exactly the same. Thunderstorms as well. But in general, unexpected things are unwelcome and generally have poor outcomes for me. That all said, I love concerts more than just about anything, so not all sound is bad by any means.
Kelly, neurotypical: This is one of the things I most wish I had understood, especially before we had our baby. Though we have a pretty good handle on Josh' sensory needs now, that is largely due to his work in therapy and our research. In the early days after Josh' ASD diagnosis, we were flying blind, and he was being intensely triggered by the way our life was changing with a newborn.
What we wish we'd known: Josh's sensory needs as a component of his ASD are just that - they're needs, not preferences.
Josh, neurodiverse: Smell and taste I lump together, because nothing really stands’ out other than preferring stronger of each. But that applies to pretty much anything. Mustard, vinegar, sour kraut, that sort of stuff is always appealing. I don’t find skunk spray to be obnoxious.
Being touched unexpectedly doesn’t go over well. Tactile and touch in general are as big as auditory things for me. I can’t wear a lot of things comfortably, if at all. When I was dating, one of the biggest factors for me was how someone's skin felt, nothing intimate required. I regularly catch myself petting soft things like blankets or clothes, inadvertently. When I was in middle school in the 80s, silk shirts were popular for a little bit and I was in heaven. I pretty much live in gym clothes and hate the feeling of jeans or anything more constricting than a t-shirt around my neck.
Kelly, neurotypical: I come from a very 'huggy' family and touch is an important part of the way I bond, so this is a significant challenge for us. After Josh' diagnosis, as I learned about his needs and how to explain my own, we made progress. I typically let Josh initiate normal/daily physical contact, and I've told him (under no uncertain terms) how many hugs I need a day to survive. He is mindful of my needs and works hard to remember to hug me when I get home or before I leave. And I work hard to remember that lack of physical connection does not equate to emotional distance for Josh. It's a challenge for both of us, but we work at it.
The other significant sensory challenge we face is our diverging reaction to temperature. Josh is affected by cold in a very visceral way; it causes him physical pain. I deal with chronic migraine, and sleeping in the heat is one of my most consistent migraine triggers. This is an area that we have really struggled to find the right compromise, because it's not about 'preference' for either one of us.
Our dogs are an important piece of the sensory puzzle for both of us. They provide affection to us both!
To learn more about ASD and sensory issues, read here: https://www.autism.org/sensory-integration/
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