Sensory Overload: How To Quiet The Noise

You ever walk into a room that is way too bright for your liking and feel the urge to walk right back out or at least put your hoodie up to kill some of the light? Or have you ever felt the urge to leave a theater because it was too loud just to look around and realise that no one else seems to be bothered by it? Ever catch yourself fleeing from a situation because the room was too crowded, there were many conversations going on at once, people touching, laughing, and all you wanted to do was be alone? Chances are you have experienced sensory overload.

I’m going to briefly go over what that is exactly before I start talking about a personal story about the overwhelming events and experiences that led me to where I am today: a little lost, but okay.  

What is sensory overload?

Sensory overload is when your five senses — sight, hearing, smell, touch, and taste — take in more information than your brain can process. When your brain is overwhelmed by this input, it enters fight, flight, or freeze mode in response to what feels like a crisis, making you feel unsafe or even panicky.  

A loud party or movie theater, multiple conversations going on at once, bright lights, people arguing loud or even speaking too fast can all produce symptoms of sensory overload.

Causes of sensory overload

Triggers may be different for different people, but really anyone could experience sensory overload. Sensory overload is associated and is a common symptom with several other health conditions, including sensory processing disorder, fibromyalgia, autism, and post-traumatic stress disorder. People with different health conditions all experience sensory information differently. If you want to read more about how people with each health condition experience sensory overload click here: https://www.healthline.com/health/sensory-overload#related-conditions 

In fact, all the facts at the beginning of this post are from this site. 

Different senses that are affected:  

Smell and taste: strong aromas or spicy foods 

Sight: crowded or cluttered spaces, bright lights, strobing lights, or environments with much movement such as crowds or frequent scene changes on television. 

Hearing: loud noise, or sound from multiple sources, such as several people talking at once 

Touch: tactile sensations such as being touched by another person or the feel of cloth on skin. 

Vestibular: such as dizziness or motion sickness 

Our brains operate like a machine, like a computer system let’s say. Our senses relay  information from the environments we are in and our brain interprets this information and tells us how to react. But for people experiencing sensory overload, there is too much information to interpret and their brains cannot analyse it all at the same time. Some people explain this as being “trapped” sort of. Their brain doesn’t know which information to focus on, so it goes to flight or fight, or freeze mode.  

Our body starts to panic and tells our bodies that we need to get away from the overload of sensory information that our brains are unable to interpret. A lot of people have the urge to close their eyes or plug their ears when the noises or lights become too much.  

Symptoms of sensory overload

• extreme irritability 
• urge to cover your ears or shield your eyes from sensory input 
• stress, fear, or anxiety about your surroundings 
• difficulty focusing due to competing sensory input 
• feeling overly excited or “wound up” 
• restlessness and discomfort 
• higher levels than usual of sensitivity to textures, fabrics, clothing tags, or other things that may rub against skin 

My experience 

Sensory overload is just a small role that has made me feel as if I came into this world damaged, like I had a defect. My whole life I felt like everything hit me way too hard, like I was way too sensitive for this world. I felt like I seen through so many things that other people didn’t. I read people like a book it felt, I was able to finish peoples sentences, understand their train of thought before they even spoke two words, or sometimes no words were permitted at all.

My mom would walk into a room and then forget what she went in there for and although I haven’t seen her for hours, I’ll know exactly what it is she came in for. I’ll remember a conversation we had earlier in the day or week (not even consciously, it’s just a sort of knowing that floats into my mind) about let’s say about her wanting to try straightening her hair. So, when she comes into the bathroom one day where I know the straightener is kept, my mind instantly just knows precisely what it is she’s looking for. 

It doesn’t only happen with people I am close to, but with acquittances, peers, or even strangers. I have overheard people talking and I hear someone take what the other person said, the wrong way. The person who said the statement was leaning in a completely different direction than where the person who listened to the statement, was leaning. Misunderstandings really have a way of messing up a lot of civil conversations or even relationships. It’s unfortunate. And it has its way of really messing with my head. Now, not as much as it did in the past when all I wanted to do was be a mediator for these misunderstandings and help people understand that it didn’t have to be this way but instead could be that way. And because I wasn’t able to do this, I’d just be a kid claiming things that made no sense to people, instead I became a sad kid. And when I got older, it turned into anger. 

When it came to kids in my class, my friends or my sisters, the amount of times I have finished their sentence for them as they either stuttered or forgot what they were going to say, is immeasurable. A lot of the time people are shocked and say “How did you know what I was going to say? That’s weird.” Or something along those lines. I also have annoyed a lot of people with this over the years, especially when it came to boyfriends. They claimed I never let them speak and that I am not a physic, I can’t just assume what people are going to say because I am not always going to be right. Which I knew, but I also knew that I was right most of the time. I started keeping things to myself more though instead of interrupting people to finish sentences that I had no right to finish for them. 

I also felt like I could really read into a person’s soul. I see someone acting like a hard-ass, know it all but I knew deep down they are insecure and have a soft heart but got hardened to the ways of the world, due to whatever circumstance: maybe bullying, never fitting in, being neglected as a child.  

There was a time, I don’t even remember when it started but at some point throughout my young life, I started to believe that somehow, I was one of the “glitches in the matrix”. I believed that I could read the lines written by God or whoever made the whole cosmos. I thought I understood everything when it came to people, whether they were young or older, how they feel about the world, how they act in adverse situations, how they develop. In my opinion its the small moments in the first contact with strangers, the first social interaction that builds the first personality traits of an individual, which for me, opened a window to their soul within the first few moments. It is as if these realizations of who a person was were already there in my mind, you know, predefined, as if in the first contact with someone, my mind enters into a process of externalization of their whole essence and interpretation of life. I could see their fears, insecurities, everything we can call weaknesses and also their courage. 

Everyone’s personal behavior was never a mystery to me, I understood from an early age the faculties of each one to be honest and understanding for the most part. I saw compassion born in naive hearts, and I saw the will to do good in its purest and fullest form. I also saw the other side, the falsehoods, lies, cover-ups, bad faith, disrespect and malice, arrogance. The emotions and feelings that many came to discover as the years went by, and that others spent a lifetime without ever experiencing.  

For a long time I did think that this was a defect, a disease, that I had come damaged into this world. After all, how could it be normal for me to understand and interpret the actions of each person, directly linked to their way of thinking without even knowing a book on sociology or philosophy? It was all too overwhelming. Add in the sensory overload I felt in most situations, I felt like a wreck ever since I was old enough to start making coherent thoughts.  

I could see so much manipulation coming from people close to me, even if it was done unconsciously at times, but I could also see those done on purpose and I could see the results of the effect that a statement in the wrong context, a sequence of words or attitudes, a badly told and directed story, could cause.  

I spent a lot of time just observing the world, the social, all the interactions and how they connected, and I realized how to fit into different scenarios. I learned how to interact with people who frightened others just by their posture or demeanour. I learned how to make a socially awkward person who was pretending to be having a good time, comfortable.  

 It started to sort of feel like a blessing when I realized my ability to read people, to accurately predict different reactions that random people might have from the same context. It brought me a sense of clarity, because for the first time, I was able to interpret the world in an almost conditioned way. 

My keen perception enabled me in many situations to act in a coherent and sympathetic way instead of just blurting out the end of someone’s sentence. Regardless of who was playing the protagonist, I quickly understood the situation and the behavior of individuals and in a simple way, I was able to resolve contexts that would have normally generated into imminent conflicts.  

Finding peace with using the ability I had to help people throughout my life did give me a little more hope for the future. But I knew I couldn’t help everyone and I knew there would still be misunderstandings everywhere causing unwarranted conflict and it still had its way of messing with my head. Also there is a variety of other reasons why I still felt lost as a kid, so finding peace with this wasn’t exactly enough as the years went on and things became more overwhelming.  

I did feel as if I had this intuitive mind that could read between lines other people couldn’t but I can say, when I seen kids being so harsh to other kids with no worry in world, as if it didn’t bother them at all to hurt someone else’s feelings, it confused me. It almost seemed as if they found joy in it, it shocked me and I wasn’t able to wrap my mind around it entirely.  

Nature or nurture?

I grew up with two sisters, we all had the same upbringing but we are completely different people. Both of my parents have big hearts and are usually pretty soft, my dad more than my mom. It’s rare you will hear anything harsh come out of their mouths unless they are really angry or if they said something, not knowing the effect it would have.  

My sisters and I were raised by the same parents but we are not entirely like our parents, nor are we exactly alike to each other. Some people say personality is based solely off nature (which is pre-wiring and is influenced by genetic inheritance) or nurture, (influence of external factors after conception) but I truly believe that there is something inside of each of us, if it’s our soul or whatever else, that makes each of us, us.  

My one sister that is a year older than me was tough growing up. She didn’t take any crap from anybody and had no problem standing up for herself or her sisters. If someone said something harsh, it was easy for her to simply insult them back. For me, I coward down, put my head down, accepted the insult and sometimes even started to believe it. Even if there was a thousand mean things I could say to hurt someone’s feelings, I could never bring myself to say them out loud. I knew how things stuck with people, I didn’t want to be a reason someone may feel insecure about themselves or feel less then. I knew there were people who found joy in the opposite though and those kids I felt sorry for because something must have happened to them along the way. Most of them at least, but I do know some people are just destined to be evil. I felt sorry for them too because they would never get to experience the amazing feeling of helping someone out of selflessness. The power we have to effect each other is major and using this power for good has got to be one of the best feelings in this world.

I minded my business, wasn’t mean to anybody, usually helped people in need whenever it was in my means to do so, so when people were harsh for what seemed to be absolutely no reason, it sort of broke my heart a little more each time. It made me even more overwhelming sad as a kid.  

Whats the point of it all anyway?

I started to question God and why he would put so many humans that are so indifferent to each other all on the same planet. Did He expect us to find true happiness here? It seemed more and more impossible as time went on to find any kind of real lasting joy here. Everything was exhausting. I thought too much, my brain on constant loop of all the thoughts that liked to bounce around the corners of my mind. Not just the big things either.  

I definitely had some form of OCD as a kid. My brain worked weirdly but I just sort of assumed everyone else’s worked the same. From things as little as having to count the ceiling tiles or lines in the vent before I left a room cause it would bother me if I didn’t, having to step on every crack in the sidewalk or every pinecone or piece of debris and if I missed one I’d circle back to make sure I got it. I used to look at barcodes or serial numbers and have to sit there and repeatedly recite it until I remembered it clearly without looking at it. It used to bother me so much because I did not want to sit there and waste so much time doing this, but if I didn’t it would bother me more. From the smaller things to things like scratching my skin raw in certain spots because I didn’t know how to stop the pattern in my head.  

I don’t know how to explain it, I wish I knew more about the mind but I know I had this specific beat in my head, it had eight notes, I still remember it today. Actually I am singing it in my head right now. Anyways, I went through a stage where everything I did whether it was touching a new piece of material, or something hot, or if it was scratching myself, I had to do it on this beat. Even turning off a light switch, I had to do it eight times in order to follow this beat.  

Sometimes I would scratch the eight times though, then I would keep repeating it over and over again until my skin was ripped open and bleeding as I kept happily singing the song in my head. I didn’t want to hurt myself necessarily but I also didn’t know how to stop myself.  

I remember having different excuses for my parents and teachers: “I fell off my bike.” “I was learning to roller blade and fell.” “I was climbing a tree and fell.” I think there was only one teacher who may have expected I was lying because she called me to the side to ask me a couple questions about how it happened. I guess it was to try to see if I was lying or not. Kids are not very good at lying but nothing ever came of it so I assume she brushed it off as kids being kids. 

I remember biting my lip one time by accident and then I had to do it again to the beat in my head, eight times. I bit harder each time and I repeated doing this for like a year or longer afterwards. It was actually one of the worst pains I remember to this day, I’m pretty sure I almost bit my own lip off once or twice but again, I didn’t know how to stop and man, did it fuck with my little mind.  

I was sad and in distress without even really knowing it. I had a great childhood, amazing friends and family. My family and I were and still are very close, they always have had my back, my friends back then as well. My mind just moved too fast, everything hit too hard, everything so damn overwhelming, people who made things so confusing when they could be so simple. I think hurting myself was somehow a form of release in this chaotic world. When the world seemed harsh and everything in disarray and I was just a child with no voice and no ability to change a thing, I think hurting myself was one thing that made me feel like I had control. I could control the pain I was feeling because I was the one causing it.  

As I got older I didn’t stop hurting myself but instead did it in different forms. I would punch brick or cement walls repeatedly until my knuckles were swollen and bleeding. Trying to do it harder every time. When the bruises came out and the bones almost felt broken (I’ve fractured a few) I would punch again, and again, and again until I thought about nothing else accept how much pain I was in. The pain raced up my arms and through my body. The rush of adrenaline to the brain made things okay, if only for a little while. I stopped doing everything on par with that stupid beat in my head though, at least. Instead I would punch three times really hard, stop and then go back for another three, and another, until I couldn’t take it anymore.  

I think it was in high school that I started hitting my head really hard with my fists, one time I blacked out for a few seconds after doing this. I have smashed my head off walls, fist through walls, I’ve thrown things, punched things like mirrors or windows, basically I destroyed a lot of my parent’s house. The stove handle and glass, most of the walls had at least one hole in them, the hooks and towel handle in the bathroom, the mirror, a window once. Picture frames, plates, cups, bedroom doors, closet doors, but mostly I hurt myself.  

Eventually, in high school I got into a toxic relationship. All we did was fight. It turned physical fairly early on in the relationship. I was a coward and I allowed it for years. I tried once to fight back but it only made things worse for me. I think I accepted this “love” because I didn’t love myself nor life in general. Maybe I thought it was all I deserved? Maybe I thought it didn’t get any better than that? That all guys kind of sucked? I truly can’t say that I know where my mindset was exactly back then but I know I would never allow that for myself again. At least I truly hope not. 

Everyone hears a different song, sees a different picture

Okay, so everyone sees the world through completely different lens right? Like I was saying before, I truly believe that there is something inside each individual that is what makes us, us. So we all have a completely different perception of the world. Something that makes us sad may not be the same thing that makes someone else sad. Therefore these two people can experience the exact same situation, which causes one to be affected by it and have a bad day which leads to this, which leads to that, which brings up that thought, which causes a decision to be made. Things or thoughts or decisions that may never have happened, got thought up, or done (good or bad) if the person wasn’t affected by the initial experience. While the other person goes about their day, follows their daily routine and nothing is unchanged.  

My point is, we all wake up and see the world completely differently, our minds all on their own paths, creating our unique perceptions of the world. So, when we are thinking about a specific thought that gives us specific feels and emotions in our own head and we try to put it into words so someone can feel the same emotions we feel while thinking about this thought, it is damn near IMPOSSIBLE. We expect a certain reaction from the person because it’s the reaction we would give if told this same thing. When we don’t get that reaction but instead the person has a whole different view of this same thought, life gets confusing and harder.  

I think this is one of the main reasons why I got so mad at my loved ones when I was younger. I expected them to just know exactly where I am coming from and the more I could tell that they didn’t, the more I didn’t know how to control the boiled up anger that was rising up in me.  

I had a huge problem with this in high school when I realised that no one would ever fully hear the same song or see the same picture I see. I remember when I was younger I started to imagine that people seen colors differently too. Like, what if what I seen as green was actually purple to someone else, but like we would never know any different because we can’t explain a color necessarily.  

The world moved so fast, everything so bright, so loud, so disorganized and I finally found something to slow it all down. I tried weed until it wasn’t enough (yes, parents you were right, it is a gateway drug) then I got into pills. Then my boyfriend at the time sold MDMA so I did that on the regular as well as oxy’s that I got from a girl I knew and when I couldn’t get them, I would steal them from my mom. When my mom started hiding them and I was broke, I would steal MDMA from my boyfriend or I would search forums online about how to get high from the pills from the medicine cabinet. I would make up little pill cocktails and I would sometimes get good highs, sometimes I had some of the worst and scariest experiences of my life. The risk was still worth taking, feeling something was still better than being stuck in my own head in the real world.  

When I got a job in the restaurant industry I started drinking heavily as well as still doing oxy’s on the daily, at work, at home, in social settings, alone in my room, anywhere. I stopped doing MDMA daily when I woke up in the middle of the night one night and every bone in my body felt like someone was hammering little holes with mini hammers and nails and then wiggling those nails around. I never felt pain like that in my life. Of course right then, I took more to ease the pain but after that I slowly eased myself off of it as I did oxy’s eventually, so I drank excessively instead. My drink or drinks of choice should I say, was tequila and beer. It got to the point where I was drinking at work.  

I can’t say much has changed.. I drink way too much. Sometimes for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I no longer take pills on the daily. I no longer buy bottles of liquor because I know that I will drink the whole thing in a day and a half. Sometimes just a day. I’ve been to the doctor, my liver is enlarged and I have different stomach issues which I assume is from drinking so much. I am waiting to see a gastro specialist who will tell me exactly what the problem is.  

Also, ever since I started smoking weed at fourteen, I haven’t stopped. I am twenty five now, turning twenty six this year. In spite of the fact that there has been stages of smoking where I genuinely hate being high, the reliance I have on it, keeps me doing it.  

My form of smoking is through a bong and I smoke what we call “poppers,” in my city, which is weed packed into a bowl on top of tobacco which you light and pull through all in one hit. It gives you an instant head buzz and makes you feel nice. It’s this feeling I’m chasing all the time. It helps quiet the world around me. I think doing it the way I do is what makes it so much more addicting.  

It feels impossible to stop without help, especially when my significant other does the exact same thing I do. We buy twenty-four beers a day and more often than not, there is only two or three left at the end of the night. He also smokes as much as I do, if not more. His cough is so bad he literally sounds like he’s dying some days. He already has COPD and I can’t say that I am not absolutely terrified for him. And myself. No one goes to rehab for weed though or beer do they? Plus, I couldn’t afford to take time off work to go to rehab anyway.  

I guess I wish this was going to be happy ending, a story that could help people realise that the noise doesn’t have to last forever, that things do get less overwhelming. And I truly do believe that.. I just know that sobriety or at least some control of my bad habits, is the first step. I need to know who I am without these substances. I need to learn to shut the noise out without my vices. I have already come a long way and I have only hope that I will keep improving myself as the years go on. It’s all about wanting it and trust me, I do, I want to be sober and healthy. But I can’t say that I’m not afraid of how the chaos in my mind may affect me this time.  

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If you are interested in reading more about the journey of my life and the other techniques that helped me to slow it all down, check out the section of my site called Dark Journal Entries. I usually type out one of my old journal entries from when I was in a dark place in my life and I end the post by talking about how far I have come since I wrote the entry. Its sad sometimes to look back also liberating because I see how far I have come. I will never go back to that place.

If you are interested in reading about a variety of different subjects such as mental health, inside the minds of disturbed artists, the importance of being an introvert, importance of body language and non-verbal communication, the importance of mental rehearsal and imagery, the power of our minds, mindfulness, metaphysics and the cosmic world and how all the great genius’ of the past have tapped into this power to achieve seeming miracles, addiction, abuse, the effects loneliness and so much more, please check out some of my other posts: