Gotta Keep ‘em Overstimulated
Tuesday, while working on some demos (first drafts) for my next record I was having so much fun I got overstimulated. Overstimulation, for those of you who aren’t familiar, is pretty much exactly what it sounds like, sensory input gets to be too much and it causes a kind of physical, emotional, mental, spiritual overwhelm. Usually, for me, this happens in crowds, if the lighting is too loud or a smell is weird, when I’m wearing uncomfortable clothing, and/or when I’m hungry, tired, sick or in pain. I stop speaking, I feel like I’m having a panic attack, I fight the impulse to RUN AWAY from wherever I am and crouch in a small space in a kind of little ball shape. Sometimes I get the urge to hit, though I haven’t done that since childhood. Well, ok, that’s not true—one time I did beat up a box of Pop Tarts cuz it fell on my foot when I was tired and another time, after a particularly draining day of taking care of 24 crying infants and their extra ass parents, my truck door kept falling closed on me while I was collecting my stuff to go inside my apartment and I 100% started kicking the shit out of that thing like I was Tony Soprano and it owed me money—I only stopped because I noticed a neighbor watching me and saw how Not OK I looked through the lens of the horror on their face. These more physical meltdowns usually only happen when I’m alone.
The one that gets me into trouble when I’m with company is that I lose the ability to speak, my mind goes totally blank, I lose all sense of direction, and I cannot make a single decision. Obviously, this can be pretty annoying from an outside persepctive. It seems like I’m angry, being passive aggressive, or like I’m not having a good time, and in many ways, I am not having a good time. In some cases the sensory overload is worth it. Mostly, though, my favorite way to be in a crown is just outside of it, sitting or stretching, with my eyes closed, listening to the low-humming vibration of many different conversations occurring at once, without any expectation that I should participate. But that’s not really acceptable to the average neurotypical population is it?
Overstimulation because I’m having too much fun is whole different level of “fuck you” from the universe. I love making art. I looooooove making art. I love making art so much it is a hyperfixation of mine. I can talk about it until my voice goes hoarse. I have enough ideas in my head for three lifetimes. I am always, chronically, compulsively creating; whether it’s accidentally choreographing a dance routine when I just meant to vibe around the house, writing writing writing all the time, thinking about/planning/rehearsing my podcast, improvising silly little songs as I move through my days, or sitting down to make an album, I pretty much never stop. I love it. I LOVE it. And I have always been this way.
Sometimes, though, when I get really fuckin stoked on how the making process is going, things turn from fun to scary. My heart starts racing, I get hot and sweaty, I get giddy to the point of feeling manic, my mind starts moving 3-20 times faster than my body but my body tries it’s lil hardest to keep up. I get a migraine, I get nauseous. I have to stop. Sometimes stimming helps—flapping my hands, bouncing my leg, pulling on my hair, rubbing my scalp and face REALLY hard, chewing on something bouncy, going for a really fast walk, moving my body, hypersupercleaning the house. Sometimes I just need to curl up in the dark under the blankets with my eyes closed and call it a day. Sometimes being squeezed by my partner three times in a row helps. This particular day it was finally a cold shower that calmed me down.
I haven’t tried to work on the album again and it is now Friday. I don’t like the feeling of overstimulation. It makes me feel uncomfortable, like my energy is too big for my body. I get claustrophobic in here. Like a pair of pants that don’t really fit digging into my belly, I wanna rip it off!!! But that’s ok.
My process and relationship to linear time is different because of my autism, and that is something I have come to love. I cannot be forced to go faster than I am going. I cannot be forced to be different than I am. And I cannot be expected to do anything when the time isn’t right because I simply won’t. These are boundaries. I work them daily with the capitalist cop in my head. And I am freer for it.
Becoming overstimulated for joy does feel a bit like a cosmic joke, buuUUuuuut it’s also pretty rad because to experience that level of happiness, excitement, fulfillment and concentration feels really special to me. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
