Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) and Change

One of the most difficult things for someone with sensory issues is change.  The reason for that lies in the fact that familiarity is safe.  The goal of our neurological system is to keep our bodies in a place where we feel “just right”. Jean Ayres, an occupational therapist, first coins this phrase, claiming that the best therapy will be somewhere between too easy and too difficult.  At home, a "sensory diet" is prescribed, suggesting activities that will challenge without overwhelming.   

To accomplish this "just right", we (all of us) are constantly making adjustments to our environment.  We might avoid spicy foods or back away from a hot stove.  We might crave something salty or sweet or cover our ears when it is too noisy.  Shifting our weight to balance or holding our pencil a certain way all help us to maintain consistency in our body. 

When faced with an unknown, we have to process all kinds of new information.  For many people, this is relatively easy, but for others, the wealth of new input is overwhelming.  In familiar situations, a person with sensory processing disorder (and all of us on some level) has developed coping mechanisms over time.  They know where the quiet places are, what foods they will want to eat (or to eat ahead of time or bring a snack), what clothes are most comfortable, who will hug them or give them space, how long they are expected to sit in a chair and how much energy will be required to complete tasks.  They can plan and also relax as tasks become easier with practice.

Transitions mess all of that up.  For a person with sensory processing problems that has gotten to a comfortable, "just right" place, a change is like an alarm clock going off when you are fast asleep.  It is jarring, jolts you, and puts you into a panic.  That panicky feeling is your body's protection system, the very basis of your survival.  We know it as "fight or flight".  

Pretend that instead of a blaring alarm clock, you were given cues to tell your body to slowly wake up.  Maybe the curtains are slightly opened or soft music is playing.  Perhaps, someone is whispering your name and then speaking louder in regular intervals.  It would hopefully help to eliminate the shock of sleep suddenly interrupted.  Transitional cues and routines help those with SPD in the same way.  

If surviving in daily life is hard without routine, warnings, and predictability, imagine how difficult changes in that routine are.  School starts for the year while summer stops and vice versa.  Daylight Savings Time begins or ends.  It is a holiday or special event.  Favorite places are closed or menus change.  Eventually, all of these changes and transitions become the "new normal", but in the meantime, and to varying degrees those with sensory processing issues suffer.  They no longer feel "just right".

Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) affects people with lots of different diagnoses, particularly those on the autism spectrum.  However, it can also occur all by itself.  It is almost harder that way.  It is invisible to others except for the resulting "behaviors" that they can see.  And that often results in judgments of "weird", "odd", "brat", "problem child/student", "distant", etc....Yes, the behaviors are difficult and probably need intervention, but they are not defiance.  Watch, observe, and see what you see.  You might find you are now looking with a different lens.

Picky Eaters

In the above clip, Kramer refuses to eat a sandwich without Dijon mustard.  Whether we realize it or not, we all have catered to someone’s preferences at one time or another.  For some, this can be a daily battle, especially those with sensory processing issues.  

You see, we all process information through our central nervous system.  We not only sense taste, smell, sound, touch, and sight, but we must learn how to distinguish different inputs from one another and figure out how much output is necessary to accomplish our goals.  In an ideal world, our bodies would respond perfectly to changes in our environment.  We would know exactly how much force to use to open a door, write with a pencil, or handle an object without breaking or dropping it.  We would love every sight, every smell, every taste, and every sound - but not too much.  We’d keep our balance and never be dizzy. Our muscles would allow us to move without wearing out too easily.

However, we don’t live in a perfect world with perfect bodies, and while it is natural to experience both a need for sensory input and sensory overload, some people fight this balance constantly.  Occupational therapists refer to it as Sensory Processing Disorder.

I personally recognize myself in this neurological disorder, and to an extent, everyone has their moments.  The difficulty in self-regulation is baffling to those who don’t constantly fight for that “just right” feeling in their bodies.  Overload causes a “fight or flight” reaction;  not getting enough input results in seeking behaviors like bumping, crashing, hitting, kicking, biting, and pushing,  Areas that are difficult neurologically are avoided.  All of these are “behaviors” and are often viewed as willful defiance and disobedience, when in reality, they are reactions to an upset nervous system.  

Parents of children with Sensory Processing Disorder struggle daily to help their child navigate the world we live in.  They have to constantly advocate and explain behaviors that though inappropriate, are not ill-intentioned.  It is an exhausting job.  I’ve done it for my son, and I hope to educate and encourage others to look at children (and sometimes adults!) with a different lens, one of understanding rather than judgment.  

As you can probably tell, sensory processing is a special interest of mine.  I often feel like I don’t fit in, and I am especially cognizant of the long-lasting effects that come when we are taught to have a negative view of ourselves.  As a parent, I empathize with other moms and dads who are tasked with the difficult job of not only raising a child with special needs but also must continually advocate for them, often to people who view their child as “bad”.

I guess you could say I have a soft spot for what I lovingly term the “out-of-the-box” kids.  In fact, I really have a heart for all those “exceptional”.  So, one of my goals for this blog will be to educate my readers, so that they too can see things with a different “lens” and show compassion.