I’m not sure if any other special needs parents would call themselves over sensitive, but I definitely would. I think my neurodivergence makes me hyperaware of, and affected by, the words and actions of others. I have made a habit of reading people closely, in order to anticipate their motives, movements, and moods. I think this was exacerbated by my strict upbringing and by struggling to navigate social structures and hierarchies at school. 

But I also think that needing to synch my nervous system with my child’s in order to see, feel, and hear what he does, has meant that my cup becomes full-to-overflowing quite quickly – just like his does. I can hardly remember life any other way, but I suppose I must have moved through my days half in a daze, not noticing the minutae of everyday living. Not assessing wind, weather, temperature, glare, or ambient noise. Not noticing busyness, our loudness, or the length of a queue, or the number of dogs at a friend’s house. Not feeling anxious about stairs, or escalators, or who else might push the button to call the lift at the mall. Not scanning for the biggest shopping trolley in the car park of a shopping centre, or keeping at least a foot away from shelving in the aisles. Simply being inconvenienced by load shedding, rather than being hamstrung by a set and strict routine that requires both power and WiFi. All these things were non-things to me then, but they’re all things that govern our level of emotional wellbeing and harmony now. And even if you don’t get bogged down by the smaller details of a life with autism, there are bigger factors which can help you reach a tipping point all too quickly.

I believe that extreme sleep deprivation, needing to consistently dig deep for a lot of patience, and remaining completely non-responsive in high emotion situations at home, greatly contributes to my lack of patience with other people. I’m at mental and emotional capacity at all times, so I can be intolerant (at best) and combative (at worst), when other people bring the drama. Sometimes, I’ll react in the moment. Other times, I just don’t have the bandwidth to respond at all, preferring instead to protect my peace. It really depends on the day and how badly things are dysregulated at home. And though I don’t expect to get any special treatment because of my particular situation, I often wish people would at least consider it before starting up on something.

I was always a peacekeeper. And relatively quiet in the face of stress, struggle, or confrontation. I’ve been conflict-avoidant for most of my adult life. But I seem to have found my voice by becoming a special needs parent. Because it’s far easier to speak out for my child than it has ever been to speak out for myself. And I do speak out for him. And sometimes even for myself now on occasion too. I think I’m far sassier nowadays than I’ve ever been before. But maybe it was a needed metamorphosis. Perhaps having a pair of brass balls is what special needs parenting requires of me. And maybe once we’re through the thick of the neurodivergent toddler dramas, I will be better equipped with the patience needed to deal with troublesome people and challenging situations outside of our autism bubble. Until then, I just have to keep reminding myself… that I need to pause and reflect. Because these days, all too often, I can be over sensitive.