Rye headshot

Therapist Rye's Personal Experiences with Sensory Overload

June 14, 20244 min read

This article was written by FlowArt Therapy's Rye Flood, who specializes in working from a sex-positive lens with individuals, couples, polycules, and other relationship styles. Rye is currently welcoming new clients at our practice.


Hi All!

To start, I want to clearly say humans experience their sensory overload in an extremely wide variety of ways. I write this with the hopes that there may be some folx that recognize their own experience in mine but know that my experience is just that—one singular experience of a neurodivergent human that has trouble with sensory processing.

So what might sensory overload look like? For me, it’s when the lights start to look way too bright. The sounds around me simultaneously become impossible to understand and impossible to tune out. Every little (or big) noise out of my control becomes irritating, like an itch you can’t scratch, and my skin becomes hyper-sensitive to the point that certain clothes will make me feel unbearably uncomfortable even if they were fine before. I start to notice each and every spot where fabric touches my skin, what the texture is like, how much it’s constricting my body, and how the layers of clothes restrict my movement. Smells start to feel nauseating, particularly those from cooking, and most food becomes too sickening to even consider eating. Even the taste of water might start to be too much. When I’m having a rough sensory day, each of my five core senses are turned up to eleven, with every stimulus tuned to the same level. My brain becomes unable to prioritize what to tune out and what to pay attention to, and my body feels bombarded by the environment around me. It’s incredibly uncomfortable to say the least.

Once I recognized that my experience was sensory overload (from hearing other people talk about their experiences like this! ), I began to try and pay closer attention to my body and my thoughts. For me, sound and touch are typically the first senses to be impacted, so I try to notice: am I starting to get irrationally angry or annoyed at that person tapping their pen or talking to their friends? Has the sound of the refrigerator or electronics started to get louder? Do the cuffs of my sweatshirt feel too tight or the collar feel like it’s constricting my neck?

From there, I check in on my base needs: do I need to drink more water? (almost always yes). When did I last eat? Have I moved around in the last four hours, or have I been hyperfocused on my latest source of excitement? Is there anything I can do to reduce the amount of stimulus I’m experiencing (move away from noise or food smells, reduce lighting, change clothes, put in my earplugs, and so on)? What sensory stimulus can I control? The earlier I notice and the sooner I start tending to my base need or implementing accommodations, the sooner I can rebalance my sensory experience.

Over time, I’ve built out an array of ways that I tend to myself, both in and outside of sensory overload. Here’s some examples from my list that might help spark ideas for the folx out there that resonate in some way with my experience or the experience of sensory processing disorder:

  • Reducing the backlight on the TV or my computer, and adjusting it often.

  • Taking a step outside when overwhelmed, especially if the air is cool and the noise is lower than the environment inside.

  • Taking some time at home to lay down in a darkened room with low noise, surrounded by soft things and (ideally) my cat.

  • Being open with my partner about my overload and adjusting plans accordingly.

  • Keeping my hair short so it can’t brush against my neck or face.

  • Swaying my body or touching a grounding object as feels good.

  • Identifying and keeping my pantry stocked with my current safe foods (foods that consistently tend to be okay to eat even when nauseous or overwhelmed).

  • Using subtitles for shows or movies so I don’t just rely on my hearing.

  • Wearing soft and loose clothing, especially on days where I’ll be expending a lot of spoons.

  • Building downtime into my schedule after events or high energy days.

  • Setting reminder alarms on my watch for food, water, and medications.

  • And always having a kit of items on hand that helps my sensory experience. This kit includes:

    • A cup of filtered water

    • A small snack

    • Medications, including those for pain

    • Chapstick (for touch and smell)

    • Lotion (for touch and smell)

    • Sweet mint gum (for taste and smell, especially if nauseous)

    • Loops earplugs (for noise)

    • And sunglasses (sight)

That’s all I have for today, but I’d love to hear from you all! Check out our interactive questionnaire below where you can tell me more about:

  • What sort of accommodations or ways of being have you built into your life to manage your sensory experience?

  • Are there specific items you keep with you?

  • What’s your kit look like?

Custom HTML/CSS/JAVASCRIPT

Rye Flood, Clinical Intern/MA program

Intern in Couples and Family Therapy, FlowArt Therapy

[email protected]

Focus on Sex-Positive, Somatically-Based Therapy for all humans

Rye Flood is an intern therapist at FlowArt Therapy and focuses their work from a sex-positive, somatically-based theory, working with all humans.

Rye Flood

Rye Flood is an intern therapist at FlowArt Therapy and focuses their work from a sex-positive, somatically-based theory, working with all humans.

Back to Blog