I did not wake up one day out of nowhere to ask, “Am I autistic?” In fact, I had been asking some version of that question my whole life. Why am I so sensitive? How come things hit me so hard? Why can’t I calm down? And in my quest to find answers, I did stumble upon some very helpful things. Of course, many of these supports have taken on new meaning since my diagnosis. Here are four ways I was practicing autistic self-accommodation without even knowing it!
Unless otherwise noted, the content on this blog reflects my personal experiences and perspectives as a late diagnosed autistic woman. Remember, everyone on the spectrum is unique, and not everything I’ve noticed may apply to everyone on the spectrum.
Earplugs and Headphones
I love music. I married a musician, after all! But noises, especially if they are high-pitched or irregular, can be painful for me. I also enjoy things at a lower volume than most people, unless I am in sensory-seeking mode. But more on that later. So about ten years ago, I started carrying earplugs on my keychain. At first, I only used them in very loud settings, like concerts. Then I started experimenting with wearing them more frequently in moderately loud situations, like a busy coffee shop.
Around the same time, my partner was feeling the stress of living with someone who is very noise sensitive. He needs to practice, and I need to be calm. So, he invested in a pair of Bose headphones for me (the latest model of the ones I use is linked for your info only). I started wearing them more and more around the house. Sometimes, I had my own music playing, other times, just white noise.
At some point, I also discovered the magic of headphones plus earplugs. I highly recommend this if you are in an unavoidably noisy place! Baby crying on the airplane? Headphones and earplugs. Construction outside of your office window? Headphones. And. Earplugs. These days I use Loops (FYI, that’s my referral link). I also have the soft foam kind for more extreme situations.
Types of Sound Sensitivity
Ultimately, this was one of my most important autistic self-accommodations. As I track the kinds of things that can send me into a meltdown or a shutdown, sound is high on the list. No matter how pleasant the sound, if it is too loud for me, or I am already reaching a breaking point, I have to be able to muffle it. This is in keeping with research suggesting autistic people extreme decreased sound tolerance. The authors identify a few ways it can show up.
- “Hyperacusis (the perception of everyday sounds as excessively loud or painful)
- Misophonia (an acquired aversive reaction to specific sounds)
- Phonophobia (a specific phobia of sound)”
(Williams ZJ, He JL, Cascio CJ, Woynaroski TG)
I have definitely experienced all three kinds throughout my life, so it was a relief to find ways to manage it.
Sensory Experiences
Anxiety and troubling sleeping have been issues since my childhood. Through trial and error, I have landed on a few different ways to calm my body down. It seemed counterintuitive as I began to learn about my sensory issues, but intense, predictable, and steady-state input can be very calming. It’s also important that I am the one to initiate the sensation, and have control over it while it is happening.
While deep pressure, exercise, and eating only safe foods can be calming, it’s important to listen to your body if something becomes too much! Be careful not to overexert yourself or use too much pressure. When in doubt, talk to a professional.
Pressure
Dr. Temple Grandin, autistic author, inventor, and scientist, is well known for her work on deep pressure. I may not have invented a “squeeze machine,” but I did improvise my way into some form of pressure therapy. A weighted blanket provides even, intense pressure every night as I fall asleep. A bear hug, lying on the floor, and hugging a large pillow all produce a similar effect. Even squeezing a small object can be helpful.
On a similar note, my acupressure mat is always guaranteed to calm me down. It feels a bit painful for the first two or three minutes, but after that mark, warmth floods my back and shoulders. I have fallen asleep on it a few times, though I don’t recommend that!
Intense Exercise
Many autistic folks experience issues with proprioception, a sense that helps with coordination and awareness of your body. For me, this can look like running into walls and door frames in my own home, or accidentally slamming or throwing things I am trying to pick up. Most uncomfortably, I can sometimes feel a bit out of place in my body, or take a while to find a comfortable position.
Intense exercise, especially lifting, seems to help me with this, and it’s now an accepted idea that proprioceptive activities are important for neurodivergent people. I love how I feel after a good workout, and I especially enjoy my lifting and boxing classes, which amount to doing repetitive movements to music! In retrospect, the time I spent with a local rowing club was providing the same thing – repeated push/pull movements!
That being said, it takes me a bit longer to pick up on the motions in group settings, so you won’t find me in a dance fitness class anytime soon. But jab/cross/jab/cross? I can handle that!
Colors
This might seem general, but stay with me.
I have unintentionally been using color to regulate for YEARS. Let’s go back to the college days. It’s a weeknight, I’ve just woken up from a three-hour overwhelm-triggered nap, and I need to go get some food at the dining hall. But I can barely get myself to leave my dorm room, let alone eat something.
Somehow, it occurred to me. What if I only eat pink things? And so I filled a tray with strawberry yogurt, toast with jam, and probably some cupcakes from the dessert spread. It wasn’t the most balanced meal. But I figured that if I was getting enough variety most of the time, then the pink food strategy would be OK for the bad days. To be clear, the color pink was not a compulsion, or a superstition, it was just…pretty. And calming enough that I could get through a meal in a crowded, loud dining hall on days when I had already been through a meltdown.
Flash forward again. I’m on the tenure track, and I’m exhausted. And now teal is the thing. I paint my home office a deep teal, and refinish my furniture with teal fabric and chalk paint. I find an ocean wave light and lie on my back every night before bed looking at the teal waves on my teal ceiling.
Not only was this a sensory thing for me, I’m realizing as I write that it’s also about repetition and familiarity. My current calm colors are pink and purple. And even before my diagnosis, I was starting to let myself incorporate them however I wanted. I even spent a short time with pink hair, which I would go back to in a heartbeat if it was in my budget. But even a pink or purple belt incorporated into my workwear is a bright spot in my day.
Now that I understand how these positive sensory experiences can help motivate me and keep me calm, I’m all in! Another autistic self-accommodation identified and achieved.
Alone Time
As much as I love people, I will absolutely reach a point of meltdown if I do not have enough alone time. I can think of so many conferences, camps, and trips where I was forcing my way through interactions well past the breaking point. As I got older, I could hide the tears and the distress but this led to dissociation and feeling like I was on autopilot.
Now I get why. I was masking constantly, or hiding my autistic traits to blend in. But when I am alone, I can accommodate myself to the max. I can control my environment, do whatever activity I choose (hello, special interests), or just think through my day. I can totally drop my guard and not think about what my face is doing, or how other people are perceiving me.
This is sometimes tough for people to understand. Everyone has moments where they crave alone time, but I see significant damage to my energy levels, mental health, and self care when I do not have a significant amount of alone time. So I started allowing myself more of it.
This began as a simple nighttime routine where I spent a full hour alone in my home office/retreat. More dramatically, a few years later, I made a career change that completely transformed my life in this regard. I went from a professor with classes of 60+ people multiple times a week, to an instructional designer working on projects alone or in small teams. Now I get to balance the best of independent work with team calls and in person training events where I am no longer at the front of the classroom.
It’s not always possible to make such a big change, but even the small wins, like setting aside some time before bed (which also led to better sleep) helped me find a better balance.
Special Interests as Autistic Self-Accomodation
I can remember many different phases of special interests from when I was growing up. Ancient Egypt, Sailor Moon, Spock from Star Trek. Sometimes these interests would cause problems for me, whether from peers thinking I was strange, or my parents growing concerned at how intensely I pursued these things. So I learned to “tone it down.” I didn’t talk as frequently about my interests. And I learned to avoid crossing the line where I would start to annoy or concern others.
Then again, in retrospect, graduate school for Greek and Latin was about the most special interest-y thing I could have done! It was a haven for me, as difficult as it was in many ways. I could spend hours hyper-focusing on a particular text, or discussing a translation with my students, and be rewarded for it rather than judged. And now, as an instructional designer, it’s my job to latch onto new topics and become conversant in them quickly. So even if I was restraining myself in some ways, I was finding outlets for my tendency towards monotropism, or intense focus on a small number of interests.
Letting My Special Interests In
In the couple of years leading up to my diagnosis, though, I stopped restricting myself from pursuing my interests outside of work. And the first topic that grabbed me? Octopuses! Through a series of coincidences, I read Soul of an Octopus and Remarkably Bright Creatures back to back. Finally, after seeing the heart-rending documentary My Octopus Teacher, I was off and running with my new interest. I now have an octopus tattoo, and my whole cubicle is decorated with sea creatures. The capstone to all of this was actually meeting an octopus through a special zoo event!
I didn’t know it yet, but allowing myself to pursue interests like this was key to tapping into autistic joy. It’s sad to think that I wasn’t allowing myself that because of how others might perceive it.
As always, thanks for reading! If you want to stay up-to-date on the latest posts, and access OM, my free meditation tool, be sure to subscribe.
What accommodations have you made pre- and post-diagnosis? Drop me a comment below.
