#managing sensory overload

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Autism and Being Constantly Exhausted

Neurodivergent_lou

[yellow-yarrow]

Sometimes I'm like I might be autistic but I don't want to get a diagnosis anyway so idc about that right now

[autistic-sidestep]

sidestep autism moment #9432058

[drmfyres]

i'm gonna eventually make a tag and link it but

the way i'm interpreting helaena's "dreams" is a very intense sensory experience for her. sometimes she can visualize the scenarios, sometimes she can hear what's going to happen, sometimes she can smell the location, sometimes it's a full body experience, etc. she doesn't always have the ability to verbalize exactly what she's "receiving" especially if it's not a clear visual dream. it's very overwhelming for her and she fears having them in public because she can't control how it will affect her, or for how long, or if she'll even be able to decipher it then and there. what some people consider a super future seeing power, helaena experiences as big sensory overload, sensory trauma even, since sometimes what she sees are tragedies she believes she could have prevented had she known how to decipher it all.

i hope this makes sense? i'll keep elaborating on it and really wanna explore it a lot.

[uncivilcivilservice]

It isn't rational but if someone appears in this door

Looking to see if this last room down the corridor is free, I will attack them like a rabid dog

[maochira]

Little doodle for their birthday :]

When I created Takumi, I didn't expect him to become so important to me, but I love him and Satoshi very very much now <3

[crypt1dcorv1dae]

i love raven she is just my autistic little loser failgirl that somehow tricked everyone into thinking she's some cool mysterious goth. no, shes just awkward and doesnt know how to talk to people tbh.

[thethingything]

so, a series of events:

our tourettes flares up really bad

our ADHD symptoms suddenly seem to get way worse

we get one of the worst migraines we've had in months that lasts for a week and a half and involved being really shaky and weak all the time

our restless leg syndrome then also flares up

throughout all this the ADHD and tourettes symptoms are still worse than usual

dopamine is either known or thought to be involved in all of these conditions in some way or another, and I'm kind of looking at the fact that they've all flared up at the same time and like, I don't know what to do with this information but hey at least it makes sense that everything's flaring up together and maybe we can use that to judge when stuff will flare up in future if, for example, one of these things gets really bad suddenly

[squidong]

Diagnosis isn’t what helps. Being believed is what helps. What helps is learning to listen to yourself, believe yourself, and express yourself effectively. What helps is surrounding yourself with people who believe you and take you seriously. Diagnosis isn’t necessary and doesn’t guarantee that - it just gives you extra credibility (but there are people who will try to refute it anyway).

[aliengummy]

1

[thecpdiary]

Managing Sensory Overload in Autism

I have always struggled with sensory issues (sensitivities) even though I wasn't aware I had them as a child. That’s why I found it so hard to watch my twin during her final months.

For those like me with sensory sensitivities, they may already know sensory sensitivities change in intensity and management strategies, as they age. It’s common for adults with sensory sensitivities to find that life becomes more challenging in certain areas, even if they managed well in childhood or early adulthood. This change can be attributed to several factors, including shifts in brain function, increased life responsibilities, environmental complexities, and societal expectations.

Why Sensory Issues May Worsen Over Time

As an adult, I often feel the weight of increased responsibilities. Today, stress heightens my sensory sensitivities, making it harder to filter or tolerate overwhelming stimuli. It’s as if everything – visuals, sounds, textures –becomes amplified, and my ability to cope diminishes.

Reducing Sensory Input

Taking proactive steps to limit exposure to overstimulation can be an effective strategy for managing sensory sensitivities. Tools like noise-canceling headphones, earplugs, weighted blankets, sunglasses, seamless socks, and clothing without tags can help minimise sensory input, especially in situations where avoiding triggers entirely isn’t possible. If you anticipate encountering something that typically overwhelms you, it’s helpful to plan ahead. Having a plan in place ensures you’re better equipped to handle potentially overwhelming situations.

The Complexity of My Environment

Generally places like offices, public transportation, and social gatherings are all more visually and aurally stimulating than the simpler spaces I had as a child, like home and school. The complexity of busy places with lots of noise, often feels like too much for my brain to process at times. When they are overwhelming, I just want to shut it all out. I am still learning.

How My Brain and Body Have Changed

I have noticed though, that as I age, my brain doesn’t seem to filter sensory input as well as it used to. Kids seem to adapt naturally to their environments, but I don’t have that same flexibility anymore. It feels like my neuroplasticity—my brain’s ability to adapt isn’t as strong as it once was. On top of that, noise, bright lights, anxiety and fatigue, seem to make everything worse. When I’m tired or stressed, even minor sensory challenges can feel like insurmountable obstacles.

The Pressure to "Push Through"

What makes it harder is the societal expectation that, as an adult, I’m supposed to push through. Children are given some leeway for sensory sensitivities—they can avoid overwhelming environments or take breaks without being judged. But as the adult, like others with the same sensitivities, I feel like I’m expected to just deal with it. Sensory sensitivities aren't something others are visually aware of, so it's easy for others to misunderstand or forget you work with difference.

My Struggle with Visual Sensory Overload

Also, visual sensory issues are especially tough because we live in such a highly visual world. When I was younger, busy, cluttered environments like shopping malls or open-plan offices seemed fine, now some of those environments can leave me feeling drained. Bright or flickering lights – like fluorescent bulbs or screens are impossible to avoid and can trigger headaches and irritability. And then there’s movement overload – fast-moving visuals on screens – where my brain seems to struggle to keep up, leaving me altogether unfocused and fatigued. When I have sensory overload, the result is mental fatigue, irritability, and an inability to focus. Visually it can be scary too.

I’ve found a few strategies that help me manage these challenges:

Controlling My Environment, Pacing Myself and Taking Breaks

Whenever possible, I try to reduce visual clutter, adjust lighting, and noise stimuli like the tv. When I'm on the computer, dimming my computer screen, has become an essential tool for reducing visual stress. I’ve learned the importance of taking breaks in my day also. Stepping away from overwhelming visuals, even for a few moments, makes a huge difference. Small resets help me regain my sensory tolerance.

Using Sensory Aids

I tried using noise-cancelling headphones to lower my overall sensory burden, giving my brain some breathing room, but tinnitus made it worse, so I had to stop.

Practicing Mindfulness and Grounding Techniques

When things feel overwhelming, mindfulness helps.

Embracing My Journey

Living with sensory sensitivities as I age is difficult. My challenges have certainly intensified, but I’d like to think I have gained a deeper understanding of my unique sensory profile. It's important I continue to prioritise self-care.

Sensory processing doesn’t exist in a vacuum – it’s deeply connected to my mental and emotional health. By taking a proactive approach that combines environmental adjustments and self-awareness, I am finding ways to navigate the world as I age. It’s not always easy, as not everyone will understand what I go through.

For more relatable, inspirational and lifestyle blogs, please check out my site https://www.thecpdiary.com

[compassionmattersmost]

How Modern Technology Supports Life with Chronic Illness: Amazon, YouTube & Essential Tools

Discover how Amazon, YouTube, and digital tools bring connection, learning, and convenience to those managing Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (ME/CFS) and other chronic conditions. Living with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (ME/CFS) is like existing within the quiet spaces between life’s rhythms. The world continues to spin, time flows forward, but for those of us confined by fatigue, much of life happens…

[our-celia]

lily is ready to let go but im not ready to let go and i feel so unbalanced and stressed without her near, and im happy for her that shes setting down the burden of the persona that hurt her but i miss her, i miss her “personality”

[lovelyghst]

just imagine ghost getting his Jacob's ladder piercing while he's dating you and after it's healed yall have sex for the first time and it's just like sensory overload

i know absolutely nothing about piercings, but this idea is simply too good to pass up. my brain is melting.

hmmm, thinking about ghost who, despite not being able to properly get off himself, is still so attentive to his sweet girl throughout the whole healing process; offering you his mouth and fingers whenever he notices your focus beginning to drift off and shift elsewhere, having you rub yourself up on his jean-clad thigh when you can’t seem to shake the burst of energy.

because while you never outright asked him for anything of the kind, he just knew.

and even if you were the one so insistent on following the piercer’s advice—taking each and every precaution possible in avoiding the risks that simon shrugged off as ‘not gonna happen.’—you still felt bad. though, he couldn’t resist your stern pouting for long, turning weak the moment you cocked your head and promised him a sweet treat when he’s all healed up.

so, of course, ‘whatever you say, doll.’

anything to put your pretty mind at ease. he is a soldier, after all. he can wait, even if it kills him. it got pretty damn close to it, too.

which is what makes the first time back so fucking good. that reunion, and the return of that glimmering look you get in your eyes every other time he presses his pink lips to your collar and gently hikes you up the mattress after a long time away.

and truthfully, he was done in the moment you tapped him on his shoulder and told him to guess what day it was.

“shit, baby—” he grits out with a heavy breath, eyes trained on your own as he watches you reverently lick up the underside of his cock. your fingers tighten around the base when his abs pull taut, tongue gliding over the cool metal.

taking your time in feeling each and every barbell leading to the tip, making him twitch in your hand at the hot and wet drag over his sensitive skin. a heavy breath seeps from his lungs, his jaw clenching as he fights to hold off. jesus, you’re too good to him.

a sweet fucking treat, indeed.

you giggle before taking the head of him between your swollen, spit-stained lips, reveling in the quick hiss he sucks in through his teeth as you whine at the familiar taste of his pre leaking onto your tongue. your other hand slips up his thigh while you squeeze your own together, your freshly done-up nails leaving little, pink crescent shapes in his thick skin.

“fuck— not gonna last ‘f you keep that up,” he warns, a struggle in and of itself, and it’s an utter miracle he doesn’t collapse to the floor when you only hollow your cheeks and suck in response. he hardly manages to stifle an embarrassingly whorish moan at that.

god, you look so pretty down there, on your knees for him. so fucking debauched, and so, so perfect.

the way your thumb toys with the piercings as you have your own fun, and how you preen in his hold like a sweet cat when he slips a hand to the back of your neck. he’s going to miss it when he forces himself to pull you away, frowning at the pout you give him as he’s lifting you off your feet and carrying you over to your bed.

“’m sorry, sweetheart… just too fuckin’ pretty for yer old man anymore— didn’t want it t’go to waste.”

he kisses your temple, mumbling his apologies in your hair. you hardly even register your bare back making contact with your sheets, so wrapped up in his hold, before he’s kissing his way down your neck.

“wanna fill yer pretty cunt,” he murmurs, and it’s nearly incoherent as his lips press against your racing pulse point. “make ‘er cum ‘round my cock… know y’missed it too, sweet girl. a proper fuck…”

he’s talking more to himself than anything, and a small gasp from you follows soon after when his arm is snaked between your bodies and his fingertips make contact with your swollen, little clit. won’t even stretch you out with his fingers; he’s had his fill of that over the course of the last month. let him feel how much you missed his cock.

“poor thing’s soaked f’me, baby.” he groans as he adjusts on his forearm and regains his bearings, dick twitching against your thigh with every noise squeaked out from your throat. “cunt’s gonna take me just right, lovie… so fuckin’ well…”

he rambles a lot when he’s needy, you’ve come to learn.

you whine when his hand leaves you to take his cock in a fist, your nails digging into his chest and shoulder when he presses the head to your messy pussy. just the tip in and you’re already seeing stars, the shared moan between the two of you raw and pornographic.

he’s gritting out his swears before you try to shush his dirty mouth with a kiss, and he accepts it greedily, almost too eagerly.

your body reacts to his, simultaneously craving more and trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation all at once. your brain is fuzzy by the time he’s nearly bottoming out inside you, ears deaf to the unabashed sounds spilling from your lips as the feeling of his fresh piercings dragging against your every sweet spot burns itself into your memory.

and before you can catch your breath, a thumb is being pressed up against your sensitive bud once again, your legs constricting around him involuntarily as you jolt with a cry. heat prickles at your skin, his teeth at your jaw making your spine tingle.

he’s telling you to cum, begging you to make a mess of his cock.

his hand picks up its pace, hips grinding against yours sloppier than ever as he pleads right up against your temple for you to use him, just finish him off, fucking cum for him.

you squeeze around his cock like a vice and pull him straight under with you, arms locked tight around his neck as your pretty cunt utterly wrecks him. making him throb and twitch, fucking himself dumb through his high and wringing him dry of everything he’s kept pent up for you. at least for now, anyway.

his and your panting rings out in the room as he sits back on his knees, his cock still hard as he gently pulls out of you. watching his pearly cum bead from your slit, your chest gradually slowing down within the time he takes to drool over the sight of you.

it’s not long before simon has you laying on your tummy with your head in the soft sheets, a pillow slipped underneath your hips to prop you up. not making you do an ounce of work as he uses your warm, pliant cunt as his sweet cum dump for hours on end.

fucking you gently, lovingly, all while trying his best to keep his weight off your back. he kisses behind your ear, cooing praises and choked grunts that make your tummy flutter with butterflies. you can only giggle into the pillow nestled in your arms as he makes up for all the lost time.

filling you with load after load, the number becoming lost on your fuzzy mind after a certain amount, until your belly is achingly full and his cock is numb from overstimulation. only to coax you onto your back, easing your limp legs apart to watch his cum leak from your pretty hole. pressing a flat palm to your lower tummy, sighing in time with your strangled noises as your sensitive pussy drips more of his spend. leaning forward and licking it all up like some starved mutt; groaning at the taste, arms tightening around your hips as he eats his mess out of his pretty girl.

[nochepsicodelica]

"Baby, what's wrong?" Toji leans forward on the bar counter to try and get a look at your face.

You hear Toji's voice, but you feel heavy, like you're being weighed down and you can't move. Your elbow is on the counter, allowing you to rest your chin in your palm. Your head is turned to the side and you're facing away from him. Your leg is bouncing like crazy against the metal bars of the stool you sit on and your heart is racing, your breathing coming out a little shaky as it exits through your nose.

"Hey." Toji's hand goes to your knee, moving along with every bounce of your leg. He doesn't attempt to still you, but he's hoping the warmth will manage to soothe you a little. "It's okay, ma. Listen to me." When you don't move, he stands from his seat and makes his way over to your other side to stand in front of you. "Focus on me." His hands come up to shield your eyes from all the light around you, blocking your peripheral vision so that your main view is him. He lays his fingers over your ears to somewhat muffle the sounds of the lively bar area.

You're overstimulated, overwhelmed by all the lights, and music, and everybody around you. You were so excited to spend some time out with Toji. You've been here with him before, and you remembered you had a really good time— definitely one of your favorite dates with him— so you expected this time to be just as fun. Everything was going well until you made it to the bar, where you're sitting, now, trying to calm down. Everywhere you turned, you made eye contact with someone, there was a group of people that was being way too loud, and the volume of the music being played was inconsistent— sometimes blaring, sometimes at a comfortable volume, and sometimes the music was almost inaudible. You felt like your head was spinning. With all of these things combined, you could hardly focus on Toji who was trying to get your attention, because the bartender was taking your drink orders. You asked him to repeat himself three times, and each time you couldn't process what he was saying. He ended up just getting you your usual.

The sensory overload only worsened as time went by. Whenever Toji said anything to you, you would just hum and nod your head, not really taking in his words. You ended up reaching rock bottom and couldn't respond to him at all. You weren't feeling well, and he eventually picked up on it, which led to this moment, where he's standing in front of you, helping you deescalate this awful feeling.

You blink slowly at Toji, holding his attentive gaze. He picks up your limp hand from where it rests on your thigh and brings it up to his face, positioning it so that you're cupping his jaw and your thumb is pressed against the scar on his lips.

Toji used to really hate his scar. Too many bad memories are linked to it. The blemish reminded him of how unwanted he was, growing up. When he met you, he was really insecure about it, to the point where his heart would sink to his stomach, when he caught you glancing at it for even the quickest second. He found out later on that his scar brings you comfort. Whenever you're stressed about something and Toji does a mental check in, the first thing you do is kiss his scar, before communicating what has you so stressed. Whenever you're sad, Toji pulls you onto his lap and lets you talk out all your feelings. As if by natural instinct, your thumb runs along the strike on his lips, before you wrap your arms around him and melt into his comforting embrace. Even at random times, you'll walk up to him and lay a barrage of kisses on his scar, before walking off to continue what you were doing, like it's a form of recharging, but also your motivation to get things done.

Though the method in which Toji got his scar was vehemently horrid, a lot of the negative memories are overridden by more positive ones of it bringing you tranquility. Before, there was absolutely nothing good about it. It used to piss him off, because it just served as a malignant reminder of his past, and it just sat there on his grim face—useless. Now that he knows that the sight and the feeling of it puts your mind at ease and that it grounds you and keeps you with him, his hatred towards the permanence of the tattered skin isn't as vile.

"Look, mama. You feel that?" He manually drags your thumb up and down his scar, in an attempt to bring you back. Your eyebrows furrow, then relax at the feeling of the familiar texture beneath the pad of your thumb. "Yeah, i'm here. It's okay, doll." When you manage to move your thumb on your own, he lets go of your hand and puts his hand back beside your face to shield you, again. He can feel people watching, but he really doesn't care what it looks like to them. It's none of their business, anyway.

"You wanna get out of here? We can go for a drive or a walk. Anything you want." He sees you press your lips together like you want to say something, but then you stop and just keep looking at him with that same look of exhaustion from your overwhelming amount of awareness. "Alright, let's get out of here, first." He pulls out his wallet and a few bills, leaving them beneath the glass of your unfinished drink, before helping you off the stool. "It's okay, doll. Don't even worry about it. Just hold onto me." You wrap an arm around him and he keeps his hand on your shoulder, squeezing occasionally to remind you that he's looking out for you, as he guides you to the exit.

You both decide to lean against the trunk of the car for a few minutes to get some fresh air. The parking lot is practically empty, save for three other cars scattered in different areas. You've managed to calm down a little more, but you still haven't said anything. It's a mixture of guilt and embarrassment for ending what was supposed to be a nice night out with your lover.

Your shame is visible. You can't even look up from your fidgeting hands. Toji takes one of them in both of his, aiming to start a conversation with you.

"Why are you stressing out on me, my sweet girl?" Your palm rests on top of Toji's, while the thumb of his free hand brushes your knuckles. He tilts his head to look at you as you stare at the ground for a few more seconds.

"I don't know what happened," you say, finally turning to look at him. "I was fine when we were on our way here, remember?" Toji nods, clearly remembering how excited you were when you saw the lit up, neon lettering. "Then, we got inside, and I felt weird—jittery, like when you have caffeine and don't put the energy to use. I felt like people were watching my every move, and my chest felt tight."

Toji hums, taking in the heaviness of your words and considers your feelings. "And why is it that you left me to figure out that you felt like you were dying, instead of telling me from the start?" His words aren't sharp, rather, doused with concern.

"That would have made it our shortest date night ever. We walk in, I say 'baby, I feel uncomfortable with how loud everything is', we walk out." Your brows raise, as if your explanation showcases the better option more clearly—what you chose to do, instead.

"That is one thousand times better than what you went through a few minutes ago." Toji can see your lips twitching, like you're aching to defend your reason for withholding your discomfort from him, but he won't have it. He's not going to waste time arguing over something he will always be right about. Your comfort, your health, your wellbeing— it's prioritized.

"I don't like seeing you that way." He gently pulls you so that you're standing right in front of him. His gorgeous, green eyes effortlessly hold you hostage and his hands settle on your lower back, further adding on to the feeling of being caught up in him. "You were frozen and you went silent— you were just out of it."

Your expression shows the guilt you've been stomaching since you walked out of the bar, and the feeling only intensifies at his evident concern for you.

"Fuck." He sighs, pulling you into a tight hug. "Don't look at me like that, ma. You know I care." He turns his head and takes in the ambrosial scent of your perfume, sourcing it from the side of your neck, where a few of his kisses land. "I don't want you to hide how you're feeling from me like that ever again. You understand?"

You nod against him. "Sorry."

"I'm not mad at you. I don't want you to apologize. Just tell me you understand," Toji clarifies.

"I understand," you confirm, quiet and disheartened, like you've just been scolded.

"Good. Now, tell me you love me." He loosens his hold and pulls you back, still maintaining a fairly close proximity with you. His hands take the ends of your coat and ride up until they reach the first button and hole of it. He merges them and goes up, feeling for the next ones, but when he reaches them, he pauses. Your attention is on what he's doing rather than his request.

"What?" You ask, looking at him.

"I'll wait," he responds, smiling softly at the bashfulness that shines through your expression.

"You're putting me on the spot," you say, giggling.

"You say it all the time. Why is it weird now?"

It's that smirk on his face and the knowing look in his eyes, that has your heart racing. It's the fact that he rescued you from something he couldn't feel—an internal hurricane. It's not hard to say the words, but you're damn nervous, this time.

"I love you, Toji," you, wholeheartedly, declare.

"I wasn't ready. Go again," he teases, because he lives for the way your eyes light up before you laugh.

"I love you, baby," you repeat, a gentle smile curled on your lips, remnants of your amusement towards his playfulness.

Toji sighs, mesmerized by the entirety of you. "You're so pretty, ma," he says, feeding the undying glow of your ethereal smile, in hopes that it doesn't dim again anytime soon. He continues buttoning up your coat, not breaking eye contact with you for even a second. When the last button is done, he shoves his hands into your pockets and pulls you in for a deep kiss. "I love you," he murmurs, against your lips, proceeding with more kisses.

Your hands come up to cup his cheeks, the warmth of his skin spreading through your palms with every ongoing kiss you share. Your hand repositions, your fingers resting beneath his jaw, allowing your thumb to slide down and get as close as you can to his scar, without interfering with the movement of his lips. It rests there until you finally separate from each other. You lean forward once more and press a lasting, final kiss to the strike.

"Feeling better?" Toji asks, a smug grin on his face.

"Much better," you respond. "Can we go somewhere else? Anywhere else. I don't think I can go back in there. It'll be awkward with the bartender having seen everything and just... fuck that. I can't go in there, again."

"Let's go for a drive," Toji says. He pulls his hands out of your now heated pockets, and takes his weight off the trunk, standing up straight and towering over you. "If you see anything interesting, we can stop and check it out."

"Let's get lost," you suggest, grinning mischievously.

Toji's eyebrows pinch in confusion. "Get lost? What does that mean?" He asks.

"It means, let's drive aimlessly and just... get lost," you repeat, enthusiastically.

He loves how excited you are, despite how insane you sound, which is why he doesn't have the heart to shut down your crazy idea.

"You know, it's almost impossible for me to get lost, 'cause of my jobs, doll. I'm sent everywhere, so anywhere we go, I know how to get us back home."

"I can't say the same, so it would be an adventure." You smile, internally giddy at the thought of having a guide through the dark unknown.

"It would be me kidnapping you." His hands go to your cheeks, forcing you to keep your eyes on him, so he can observe you to make sure you are in your right mind.

You laugh at the intensity of his gaze. "Not if I'm willingly going with you. Please? If you hate traveling with me, we'll never do it again. I promise."

Toji scoffs. "That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

You give him a charming smile, one you normally use to heavily influence his judgement.

"Fucking-" He groans, half frustrated, half smitten at the stunning sight before him. You don't even have the time to process the swiftness of him leaning down to press a hard kiss onto your lips. "God, you always do that. You always do that. You know what it does to me and you just... fuck." His breath stutters, and again, he's tasting the sweetness of your lips. His hands are still cupping your face, keeping you locked in with him. Toji doesn't stop until you're both breathing heavily through your noses and panting when he finally pulls away.

"Let's get lost," he says, in your words verbatim. Verdant orbs stare into your soul, in search of the smallest trace of uncertainty, but all he is able to find is wonder and adoration, staring right back at him. "Let's go away, doll."

[lakuronekobaka]

how the hell am I supposed to meet and connect with other queer people in events that are not in bars or under the beating sun of early summer in a ever changing and deregulated climate?