Sensory Sensitivities

One of the more widely known things about autistic people is that we may have sensory sensitivities. But what does that actually mean?

Criterion B-4 in the DSM criteria for autism includes “hyper- or hyporeactivity to sensory input.” That means experiencing sensory stimuli either more or less strongly than the average person. In reality, it can be a mix of both – hyperreactive to some things, or at some times, and hyporeactive to (or at) others. This can result in sensory seeking or sensory avoidant behaviours.

I have a fairly narrow window of tolerance for many kinds of sensory input. I like to keep my world fairly quiet, bland, odorless and still. Occasionally I will add a little more intense sensory input, in the form of, say, music on my headphones, a single more flavourful element of a meal, a YouTube video in the background, scented hand soap. But I only want those added things in the context of the cultivatedly avoidant space I spend most of my time in. Not having control over the added sensory elements often leads to overstimulation.

I’m prone to crying over loud noises (like a crash from the kitchen) and raging over persistent ones (like chewing and typing, the hum of the refrigerator, or someone in the street with the bass cranked on their car stereo). I’ve heard it suggested that this heightened sensory sensitivity can feel like pain. I would agree. That crash from the kitchen? It’s like being unexpectedly slapped in the face. The typing, or the car stereo? It feels more like a skinned knee, or maybe a throbbing headache. But it is definitely overwhelming in a way that – I am given to understand – not everyone has to deal with.

I do own some really good headphones with Active Noise Cancellation and a couple of pairs of earplugs. I prefer the headphones, generally speaking, because they don’t feel as uncomfortable. But they do feel somewhat uncomfortable, so they’re kind of a last resort anyway. The earplugs I use mostly for going to shows.

I’ve always been a “picky eater.” It wasn’t until recently that I was able to see this in the light of hyperreactivity to sensory input. For the most part, I avoid condiments. I avoid strong flavours. I don’t eat spicy things. I don’t enjoy salad dressings or pickles. I avoid recipes that use vinegar, sour cream, cream cheese, or mayonnaise. Yogurt and eggs I can only eat some of the time. Some of it is textural, but a lot of it is just avoiding flavours.

When people think of sensory input, they’re usually thinking about the “five senses.” But, of course, we have more than five. There are actually a whole bunch, but in addition to those commonly discussed five, perhaps the most obvious ones are interoception (awareness of what’s going on inside your body) and proprioception (sense of how your body is positioned and moves). If you do a body scan, these are the senses you’re using. But they’re also (supposed to be) subconsciously active. You know how they talk about the magic of being able to catch a ball thrown to you without thinking about the math involved?¹ Most people know where their bodies are and what they’re doing without thinking about it.

I am not the most in tune with my body. I’ve always been noticeably clumsy. In elementary school, I was a regular visitor to the office in search of band-aids. I have multiple scars on my knees from simply falling (in case you wanted to know why skinned knee was so easy to reach for when I was trying to describe the experience of persistent unpleasant sounds). Not tripping over anything, just… falling. I used to trip running up the stairs all the time (this was in my teens and early twenties… I was fairly experienced at walking by then!) and I would run into doors because I didn’t manage to turn the doorknob in time to open them.² I run into things with distressing regularity. I also struggle with identifying things such as where, specifically, pain is coming from and what kind of pain I feel.³

I often seek proprioceptive input. I don’t like to sit in a neutral posture. I twist my feet so that I can feel the tension in my muscles. I like to hold the dog in my arms (lucky for me that she only weighs about 10 pounds and also enjoys being held). My favourite fidget toy is my Nee Doh Dream Drop, and I squeeze it while I’m watching TV or on a video call. I’ve always been very big on hugs. I hugged everybody until I discovered that not everybody likes hugs, and then I became much, much, much more hesitant.⁴

This is not a complete picture of my sensory sensitivities, but I’m hoping it gives a little bit more context to the term, at least as it pertains to me. I didn’t really understand until I was fully an adult that I was unusual in this regard, so I can imagine that people for whom the external world doesn’t feel like one big sensory assault might not realize that there are people for whom it does.

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¹ Not something I can actually do very much.

² I say this like it’s something that doesn’t happen anymore, but I actually did it yesterday.

³ You know, the kind of questions doctors ask to figure out what’s wrong with you.

⁴ Resulting in definitely not meeting the Four Hugs a Day minimum and increased anxiety.

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1. AUTISM IN MY LIFE
2. SOCIAL-EMOTIONAL RECIPROCITY
3. NONVERBAL COMMUNICATIVE BEHAVIOURS
4. RELATIONSHIPS
5. STIMMING
6. SAMENESS AND ROUTINES 
7. SPECIAL INTERESTS
8. SENSORY SENSITIVITIES ← you are here!