Sensory overload isn’t just a passing moment of discomfort for me – it's an overwhelming experience that disrupts my daily life. Alongside autism, and in a world that never seems to slow down, everything is chaotic and noisy and coupled with change, is difficult for me to process.
Since losing my twin, the world is different. Familiar things no longer feel the same. I’ve had to relearn how to exist in a space that feels emptier, louder, and more uncertain. The emptiness and sensory overload often intertwine, making everyday life harder to navigate. Readapting hasn’t been easy. Some days, it feels like I’m constantly trying to rebuild myself in a world that keeps shifting beneath my feet.
With autism, my life is built around routine. Routine gives me safety, clarity and stability. When that routine is disrupted, unpredictability creeps in – and unpredictability brings challenges. Too much to think about, too many changes at once, and suddenly, even the simplest of tasks can feel overwhelming.
My mind tries to juggle everything – expectations, emotions, memories, noise, pressure – but instead of managing, it begins to shut me down. Exhaustion creeps in, and even getting through ordinary moments can feel overwhelming. Grief only adds to this weight, making simple things feel heavier than they should be.
The impact of sensory overload isn’t just mental for me – it affects my physical health too. My stress levels rise, anxiety takes a hold, and my body reacts physically. Digestive issues, headaches, and fatigue, are sometimes common place.
It becomes a cycle. Overstimulation leads to stress. Stress leads to physical symptoms. Physical symptoms make it harder to cope. And when my twin's absence is present too, that cycle can feel endless. Some days, it feels like I’m fighting battles that no one else can see.
So, how do I manage? Not always well. But usually being aware is my first step. Learning to recognise when sensory overload is creeping in helps me to take action before it becomes too much. I try to listen to my mind, even when it’s difficult.
I build in moments of stillness, deep breathing, rest, and mindfulness. I simplify my routines where I can. I avoid unnecessary stressors. I remind myself that it’s okay to slow down. Prioritising self-care isn’t selfish – it’s essential for me to survive and to heal.
The world doesn’t adapt to me. Life keeps moving. Loss doesn’t pause time. But I am slowly learning, to adapt in my own way – with more patience, more kindness, and more understanding towards myself.
Losing my twin has changed me. Autism shapes how I experience everything. Sensory overload challenges me. Yet I am still here, still learning, still trying.
Not everyone wants to help those with a disability – but we should learn to navigate ourselves with more self-compassion and understanding. By listening to ourselves and respecting our limits, we can create a life that feels more manageable, even when we've been let down.
