Neurospicy Summer

Summer has arrived!

I love the cheerfulness of sunshine-y weather, and I love being able to be outside more and to let Little Peggy wander freely through the house and garden without having to pile coats on or worry about wet feet. I LOVE being able to hang the washing out to dry on the line more often (or having it dry without being rained on thrice first...). Summer feels light, airy, cheery and free, at least when it's not oppressive and deathly like last year's 40°c heatwave...

I'm sure you sense a "but" coming.

Is it the "but" of "incessantly hydrating and applying suncream to toddlers is a pain, even when they're compliant"? Or the "but" of making sure you don't kill the plants (all two of them) by forgetting to water them? No, I'm sure everybody has their own minor inconveniences of summer, just as with every season, but you don't need me to tell you about those.

I don't want to be negative about summer or about being neurodivergent, but at the risk of sounding like a whinge-er I want to talk about a few considerations that feature more particularly in a neurodivergent life and might not seem an issue to others. Some are from my own experience and others are observed, mostly from my neurospicy work life. Perhaps they seem minor or strange to you or perhaps you think, "well that's annoying for everyone." Maybe so, but if someone in your life has seemed out of sorts this week it could perhaps be that they are dealing with some of this or similar, on top of whatever else life is throwing at them right now, and the struggle is genuine.

Suncream

Gotta start with that one! Suncream can be a sensory nightmare for any child (or adult) but even more so someone with sensory processing differences. I remember screaming blue murder at my Mum as a child "you're pulling my arms off!" 

The smell, for one - love it or hate it, we all know the distinctive smell of summer. But if you're a child you probably don't get to choose it, you can't get away from it once it's on you and you're stuck with that extra, possibly distressing, sensory input all day. And then consider arriving at school to find that there are six different brands of suncream that your classmates are all wearing: six different smells to constantly filter through the brain's processing departments.

And next there's the texture - sticky sticky sticky! You stick to yourself, and stuff (like sand) sticks to you. Also everyone looks shiny all of a sudden... Personally I can tolerate suncream although I do hate the texture of it. I buy the spray on creams now I'm an adult, because they leave me less sticky, and I apply sparingly only in the places that really need it. Adults in childcare settings tend to slather on liberally. It's much quicker. And you know they're safe from the sun. But maybe think twice - perhaps you could improve a child's day by applying carefully.

And finally, let's not discount the effect on routines and expectations: suncream adds an extra (and unexpected, for a while) step to the routine of going outside or getting ready in the morning. This could be a real problem for some people.

Routines

While we're on the topic of routines, these can change with the weather too - often we go outside earlier in the day to avoid the worst of the heat. This means other things move around and we don't know what to expect from day to day. "Yesterday we went straight outside when we got to school, I can't wait for today." But then today we don't. Or, "We've gone outside before our usual morning activity. When will we do that activity? What if we don't do it at all?".

We may also need to schedule in extra drinks, especially as recognising thirst (interoception) can be tricky for neurodivergent types. Washing routines may change and any other routine you can think of really! 

Clothing

Hats... some love 'em, some hate 'em. Some, like Little Peggy, can be adamant one way or the other depending on mood.

I have enough of a problem swapping from winter to summer coat (and then to none), but there's more to the summer adjustment than this.

They are awesome shorts
from a wonderful friend.
And now they say neenaw
instead of brrm!

In our house we've also had to work hard on the transition to short sleeves. Little Peggy is not so keen on them. Even before the hot weather he wouldn't tolerate having sleeves rolled up for water or messy play. If his trouser leg or sleeve (or mine!) got pushed up he would pull it down or say "oh no" to ask me to. I remember getting shorts out a few weeks ago to see whether we had any in his size. I knew about the short sleeves/trousers issue. I pulled out a pair of shorts with cars on and he was so excited: "brrm brrm!" He wanted to put them on. First they went over his trousers, then I persuaded him to take the trousers off so I could see if they fit properly. I thought I'd done it. Then he insisted on putting the trousers over the top. Even the joy of the car trousers was not enough to get his legs out, so he wore two pairs of trousers that day!

I'm all for people making their own choices but I also need to protect him from overheating now that it is hot hot. Luckily it is now already hot in the morning and we've worked out that it seems better if we put shorts and t-shirt on straight away and long sleeves are not seen. He still usually tries to pull his sleeves down but I think he's getting used to it - there is less "oh no"ing. We've only managed to be sock free one day so far!

And of course in all of this I have great sympathy with him, because I hate it too. I like the sensation of chosen textures (usually 95% cotton 5% elastane!) against my skin. I do NOT like the texture of skin against my skin. ESPECIALLY when it is warm and sticky. I wrote before about trying to get round this issue when breastfeeding. As a child I didn't like skirts or dresses. For many reasons, but one of them being that your legs stick together, at least in summer ones when you don't wear tights or leggings underneath. A big hoody makes me feel cosy and safe. Having the air on my skin is not as bad as touching skin but still feels uncomfortable. Maybe it's partly the weight from the clothing that I like too, adding proprioceptive input to the tactile sensation.

And neurodivergence doesn't just mean autism although I write a lot about that. Mental ill health also comes under the banner (as do many spices that aren't in my personal neurocupboard - ADHD, dyspraxia and many more) and can add further difficulties to the summer experience. In the past I have worn long sleeves to cover self harm in contexts where I felt I needed to. Eating disorders often come with body image issues or body dysmorphia and people may feel uncomfortable in clothing that does not cover their body or shape. People with certain types of trauma may also wish to hide their body. OCD may be triggered by a whole host of summer-related factors.

Temperature 

This one is so obvious that I nearly forgot it! Some people's bodies are particularly sensitive to changes in temperature, and this can also be a sensory issue for autistic people. Simply being hot is distressing or overloading. 

Interoception problems can play into clothing problems meaning that people don't register when they are too hot and can even become ill from overheating or dehydrating without realising.

Sweat

Tied in with temperature, the sensations of sweating can also be problematic if clothing becomes wet (NOT OKAY!!), skin feels different (don't even think about drippy sweat!!) or the body smells different. The need to wash more could be difficult for sensory reasons or because of a change to routine.

Sunshine/light

The sun is bright! Which is lovely. And at the same time it can lead to sensory overload. I love sunny weather but I struggle with too much brightness, and I'm not even someone who gets migraines! It took me ages to realise why I would feel so overwhelmed and exhausted after visiting my family in the post-covid restriction era. I thought it was because I had become unused to spending time there, but eventually I realised it was because I was sitting in the conservatory all day (to minimise contamination). I had brightness all day and I was overloading me. I started wearing my sunglasses for some of the time and it was better. But I also don't really like wearing sunglasses because they change the colours of the world and make it less vibrant and beautiful (to me, anyway). So it's swings and roundabouts! For some people the sensation of sunglasses on their face will also be too overloading so that's an issue to consider as well.

Fans

Visually whizzy, noisy ear-fillers, and disturbing air-movers! Actually, some autistic people really LOVE fans and find them very stimmy. Some love them but find them overstimulating. I find that the sensations (air blowing on me and sound especially) fill my brain, which I can cope with if I'm doing OK but is too much if I'm already a little overdone.

Food

When the weather warms up people suddenly start doing strange things like eating cold food for tea (dinner/evening meal, whatever your preferred terminology!) and eating outside! "Ooh it's too hot to eat much this afternoon we'll just have a light lunch" (what if I'm ravenous?!). These things often happen at short notice too, which is even more difficult for NDs to cope with. Obviously they're not strange to everyone but it's useful to note that what we may not even register as a change is a big difference in some brains.

Change

Perhaps the underlying issue with all of this is change - most neurodivergent people struggle with change, and the changing weather brings all of these different changes I've described and many more I haven't noticed or highlighted here. Even children playing outside more changes the auditory landscape and can be troublesome for some people. Even good changes are hard for a neurodivergent brain to adjust to, and some of those that come with summer are difficult or even distressing for some people.

Executive function

Perhaps this should come under routines, or under change, but all the changes that come with the season change can put an extra strain on executive function. Things that were previously automatic routines may need thinking about (when leaving the house I must now try and remember to take my sunglasses and to water the plants, as well as taking my dinner bag and rucksack which is my routine). There may be additional decisions to make, for example with clothing choices - perhaps I had a routine of which clothes I wore on which days and now I need to develop a new routine of summer clothes, which involves choosing outfits for a time. I need to choose whether to wear a second layer and when to take it off (bear in mind the complicated equation of tactile sensory issues, interoceptive issues and psychological issues as well as practicality about having a place to store the discarded layer and trying to remember to take it home again later!). Of course difficulty sleeping in hot weather impacts on executive function too.

All of these factors mean other executive functions such as emotional regulation become underfunded, as it were, with the effort diverted to adjusting to the changes.

So if you care for someone of a different neurotype, hopefully this will give you an idea as to the kind of things that might be going on for them. It may not be as simple as "defiance/temper/control" in children, or irritability/inappropriate behaviour/exhaustion in adults - the brain and body are doing a whole lot of extra work to try and come to terms with changes, discomforts and confusion. What looks like an overreaction may well be proportionate to what is happening for somebody. Compassion, understanding and a step by step approach can all help to make these things easier, as well as making sure there is even more time/space for whichever activities/environments help your person to be well regulated.

Lost in a helicopter (sensory-being/object mindfulness)

Another day, another sensory-being mindful walk. I don't get these so often now - my sensory-being* is usually shared, which is wonderful in its own way - so being given nearly half an hour to myself with the instruction/agreement to use it for a mindful wander was a relished treat.

And the fact that I could take up that opportunity in autumn is not taken for granted. My brain was in a place where I could lose myself in the moment where often I tend to either become overwhelmed because of associations and memories, or to avoid or dissociate for fear of that happening.

So anyway, off I toddled on my mindful wander. My feet found a spiky floor that they enjoyed feeling through my shoes, and then some benches that are pleasant to stand on. However my attention wasn't drawn after that by the Wander Path (oh pants, it looks like I still haven't written a post about that to link to!) like it often is - most times some sight or texture will invite me in to linger but none did. I didn't push it, just wandered on, waiting to see. It was the scent of the fir trees in the end that called me, but what it called me to was a helicopter - the kind that you used to spin in the wind as a child; sycamore seeds.

And so I was lost to the world for a good five or ten minutes, first feeling the flat sides between my fingers - still and moving - the veins of the seed pod making gentle ridges beneath my skin. Inspecting it closely, drawn into the visual pattern, then turning it sideways and seeing the pale, smooth line it made against the backdrop of fallen leaves on the path below, feeling that line between my thumb and index finger, smooth yet sharp, curving round infinitely. The bump of the seed at the end in contrast. Then deeply breathing in to see whether it had a scent of its own: not the sniff you do when you think you want to smell something, or you want to demonstrate that you are smelling, but the deep slow inhale through the nose that allows your sensory receptors to really do their job to the full. Helicopters have a scent. Then I have to say I was thinking about as many senses as possible and did have to find out if it had a taste too, so I did lick the helicopter. I felt the patterns from earlier on my tongue. I became more deeply acquainted with the helicopter, understanding more of its being with every new aspect I experienced and the longer I spent on each. I went back to smelling, and one side smelt stronger than the other. The first side smelt stronger after I licked it - maybe one side smelt stronger because I had licked it more? It felt different between my fingers from when it was dry. I held it up to the breeze, watched it spin to the ground and it was gone. My moment finished, it passed on to its own next moment; the fleeting crossing of our paths stretched out by my curiosity and a suspended moment in time.

*sensory-being explained here by Jo Grace of The Sensory Projects, where I first encountered the concept. Or search my previous posts for my own witterings on the subject and how it overlaps with mindfulness - you can start here.

Fine Mesh Part II: Sensory

Aside from language, I of course receive sensory information through a fine mesh. In fact perhaps this should have been Part I because the sensory world is more fundamental, but as a linguistic being my brain approached it through the linguistic lens first.

In the sensory plane my differentiations are again narrower and slight variation from normal or my expectation results in having to recategorise and my brain alerting me to "Error!". I think the narrowness of filter also means I can perceive sensory input as many, many pieces of data that I must process, rather than a whole or a few items. Or maybe the mesh is narrow because I perceive the input in that way?!

When perceiving through fine mesh, the simple data "I am hearing a sound and seeing a movement" may become "I am hearing another sound as well as the multitude of background noises, and the new sound is made up of differing pitches/timbres/volumes etc. I am also seeing a thousand new pictures a minute as something in my field of vision moves." My brain is trying to work out what all those pictures and sounds add up to and how that aligns with previous experiences to see whether I need to respond in any way.

It's no wonder I end up overwhelmed sometimes - even though I may not be consciously processing each item my brain is working overtime for me. A messy room becomes not just one messy room but 3264 (see "wild exaggeration" below!) items that need tidying.

It is said that autistic people tend to focus on the finer details rather than seeing the whole picture and it's hardly surprising if what we are perceiving is a whole lot of input that makes up the picture, rather than simply the picture! This goes for the metaphorical picture as well - any scenario in life such as a social situation or an event unfolding as well as a literal piece of art.

Perhaps prosopagnosia (face-blindness) is also related here. I am only very mildly affected by this, but maybe if I am perceiving many pieces of information it is harder to put them together to recognise one face. If there is a minor difference or lack of context the data don't all match so the connection is not made. And yet in compensating to over-recognise... maybe there is one feature that is similar and so in knowing that I need to make connections I assimilate the new face to one I know.

I've just realised that this chimes with something Temple Grandin speaks about in her book Thinking in Pictures that I was given for my birthday, and also Donna Williams in Somebody Somewhere. They both speak about fragmented perception and I have only just twigged that they are speaking of a similar (though in Donna Williams' case, much more extreme) idea. To literally see/hear/sense the fragments must be a very different way of being.

Another aspect of sensory input being finely sifted for me is similar to what I described in the previous post about linguistic accuracy. I may see things (or hear, smell, taste, feel etc) in a more precise or attuned way, so I might register a display at school not being straight or symmetrical more quickly than others and be more bothered by it. A speck of dirt on a dish I've washed is detected by my fine mesh and recategorised as "not clean". Perhaps that's why I love asymmetrical designs: errors don't glare in the same way, and an intentional "error" is fun because you meant it (cf. puns, wild exaggeration of numbers, language play like spoonerisms or swapping vowels, mismatched socks etc...). 

I tend to eat one food per forkful because too many flavours and textures at once are overwhelming and I don't taste or feel any of them - in fact it blew my mind when I realised as a grown up that some people would put meat and vegetables on their fork together! It had just never occurred to me to do that! I can enjoy them and taste them better one at a time, so I do. In a sauce, where the flavours should blend together sometimes I can't process them all like that and one gets picked on by my brain and that is all I can taste (usually salt but sometimes a herb or other spice). I only add salt to bland foods such as chips for this reason - then I am not missing out some other flavour by tasting the salt. Ma Peggy and Peggy Toes (one of Little Peggy's Aunties) have extremely fine meshes for taste - Ma Peggy couldn't drink milk from a particular supermarket for several years because she couldn't stand the flavour and Peggy Toes can detect a change in a familiar recipe in an instant, asking what has been done differently.

I don't have perfect pitch but my pitching is closer than average. A slight error in tuning is bothersome. Some CD/mp3 players have a function where the music can be slowed down or sped up and this is used at times in dance classes to match the music to the speed required for an exercise. I could always hear when this had been left on accidentally, even if just by one notch, and often nobody noticed unless I commented (when they would usually discount my tentative comment - which was actually a desperate plea to put me out of my misery! - unless they checked, when they always found it to be so!). Even when it had been set deliberately it caused me constant discomfort to hear the distortion even if slight. My fine mesh alerted me perpetually to the slight difference from normality: "This is wrong".

These are just some examples - I could probably find them for other senses, these are just those that pop to mind first.

As with my need for precision in language, these issues if verbalised can get me labelled as obnoxious, pedantic, fussy, a pain, so again I often try to mask by not raising them. Of course that makes my comments inconsistent and perhaps thus less believable and even more inviting of the judgmental labels. And the mesh or my tolerance for variation/error does change with my stress levels which means sometimes I notice less or am able to mask more.

Well, I've wandered far from the original beginnings of my musings but it's been very interesting! Some of it is just ideas or typing as I think so it might not make much sense or I might change my mind about it in future, but I'd be interested to hear your thoughts and experiences.

Do you have fine meshes or course meshes, or a variety? Do you like your mesh style? Are there other types of meshes I've not thought of beyond linguistic and sensory? 

For me, despite the extra brainspace it takes up in perceiving, understanding and interacting with the world and the anxiety caused by my mesh being different from a lot of people's, the world is tremendously beautiful through my detailed and nuanced lenses and I wouldn't want it any other way. Precision is pleasing, details are delightful and accuracy is absolutely blooming lovely.

Edited to add rambling thoughts:

Could another lens be social? What would a social fine mesh be? Narrowly defined roles, behaviour, phrases, patterns in communication. That is what autistic people try and do in order to understand non-autistic communication and "get it right". But of course there is no fine mesh and we are inevitably lacking in some way. So we wish for a fine mesh because we are fine-mesh people, but the non-autistic social world has no fine mesh.