Here this last couple of weeks my household has been nonstop busy. From more than one of us being at the ER, to gas lines being broken in our backyard, to planning for my daughter's wedding coming this Saturday, then some. There's always a time sensitive situation brewing just under the surface of my every day.
For an extremely introverted, autistic person such as myself this is a bittersweet recipe for disaster.
On one hand, it's fun to do things with loved ones, like attend festivals, and getting together for dinners. Weddings are lovely events designed to celebrate the union of those we love. These are the things that make memories, and bind us together as we share in fun times together.
On the other hand, these events always have a falling out with me, unless they are extremely spaced out from each other. With every social interaction, and extra errand I leave me house to complete I feel a little bit more of my energy drain away. It's the times in my life that I love to hate.
I don't know what to call it, maybe shutdown? Not quite a meltdown, I don't think, but a couple days ago after I woke up preparing for yet another day of errands, and social activities in the evening my brain just spilled over. The overwhelm left me stuck in neutral on the outside as I felt myself sink on the inside into a sea of anxiety, and urgency to escape myself. Every noise was deafening, and I gulped for air as I searched for a bubble of silence. At first I rebelled against these feelings. I began to question my own mind. What happened? The immediate answer was nothing. I just felt assaulted by overwhelm causing my environment to feel as if it was attacking me. Thankfully, my husband asked if I needed to rest, and I accepted his offer. I rescinded into my dark bedroom with a tiny bedside lamp, and cocoon of weighted blankets, doing nothing for a bit until I fell into a small nap.
I returned from my dark cocoon of silence feeling much better.
Don't get me wrong. My emotional state is still fragile. It could shatter without much warning until I can get a reprieve from all this activity that is longer than a nap. We're talking several days of little human contact, without a migraine.This line of nothing and everything is a hard one for me to negotiate as each side has it's consequences. One side renders me lonely and the other overwhelmed. I used to feel childish, and flawed for having these different needs. Now I try to mostly accept them as part of how I am, and who I am. Fighting my neurological make up is not going to make it better.
It seems life is a test of the depth of my introversion. Go too far, and I may drown in sensory hell, and the other leaves me with an unintentional silence.