sensory overload

  • This year was my 39th Christmas as an autistic person, but the first Christmas that I have known I'm autistic. It's been interesting. One of the things I have found a little weird about exploring my autistic brain is that I keep getting these little moments of "Oh, that's why I've always done this...", and this Christmas has been no different.

    I had a big one today. I've been reading lost of posts from other autistics on Twitter talking about coping with Christmas - the sensory overload, having to be social, and how they survive it all - all the while thinking that I've never really had issues with Christmas. I did have a little weep yesterday (Christmas Day itself), but that was because I had a stinking cold and didn't get enough sleep... wasn't it??

  • I thought I couldn't be autistic because I didn't have any sensory issues.

    Then I remembered how much I hate stickers. Thin, shiny bit of paper that stick to your skin. Urgh. And then they peel up at the edges and when you brush up against them they make a flicking noise... it makes me cringe. I hate going on training courses where they make you wear name stickers. I have learned to tolerate it, but I will take them off as soon as I can. The trouble is, taking them off involves touching them, and then when you try to throw them away they get stuck to your fingers...

    While I'm on the subject on thin, shiny bits of paper, I also can't stand receipts. When I was younger I literally couldn't touch them without feeling a bit sick. Now I have desensitised myself enough that I can hold one with a thumb and finger until I can find a bin to put it in. Or I stuff them into a particular pocket of my handbag (which I can then steel myself to empty all in one go). If I'm shopping with my husband or daughter I will just get them to take the receipt. My husband is always telling me off for not keeping them, but, urgh, WHY WOULD I DO THAT???? I can't think of many things worse than a draw full of receipts. Actually, I can. Finding one in the bottom of a shopping bag.

© 2019 Cat McGill