Ask any person with sensory issues about how much they like going to parties.
Oh wait, you don’t have to, I’ll tell you for them. They don’t like it.
Large social gatherings are basically the OPPOSITE of the bees knees for SPDers (well, like 98% of us).
I was at a family/friends party recently. There were about 25 people there of various ages. I spent a lot of my time outside (because outside is usually better than inside because sound has no walls to bounce off of).
But then I came inside….for cake. Everyone was watching the world cup on the tv.
Of course, having impeccable timing like I always do, one of the teams scored a goal at that exact moment, and the house erupted in a roar of whoops and clapping. One of the party goers was clapping so forcefully that I felt as if he was slapping the side of my face with a piece of plywood. Oh yes, it was fun.
That was all I needed. I froze as my sensory system tried to understand what the heck just happened.
Things went downhill quickly. Thankfully, my mom was nearby and witnessed the trauma as it unfolded. She quickly removed me from the scene:
Meanwhile, my body moved zombie-like alongside her, unable to really process much of anything. Amazingly, I did not cry. AS usual, my body deals with trauma by zoning out, crying, and/or going full t-rex (which you can read about HERE). This time, however, I just zoned out.
Mom and I had to then walk down a very steep hill to get away from the noisy, chaotic house party. As we walked, she joked about when my t-rex arms would appear. So I started making dinosaur noises and humming the theme song to Jurassic Park.
It was all fun and games until we had to go from steep hill to steeper driveway. Mom was in heels, and it wasn’t pretty:
MIRACULOUSLY, we made it down to the street where we found a nice little path to walk on….a flat path.
The combination of the air, walking, and having my mom to support me (no really, she was actually holding me upright) started to make me feel less like I was going to die. She started verbally bashing people, parties, society, etc…and it was funny.
Even when we came across a barking dog, and I wanted to destroy him forever, mom didn’t miss a beat:
(NOTE: I would never wish a dog to die, but when I’m overstimulated, I can’t tolerate anything and become a vicious beast).
As we made our way back to the party, I decided to sit on the front porch steps and mom said she was going to bring me some cake. She said it would make me feel better. She came out holding what appeared to be the majority of the whole cake squished onto a little paper plate:
Of course, she was right. I felt so much better after eating all that ice cream cake. Food for the SPD soul. This post wouldn’t be complete without mentioning that the cake had blue icing on it that stained our teeth bright blue, so we both looked like this:
So that’s my party story.
Moral of today’s post: If you’re going to a party, especially where there will be loud, obnoxious people who will unknowingly destroy your will to live, make sure you bring a SPD friend or caretaker, such as MOM, who can carry out to safety and give you large pieces of cake.