nighttime time lapse of mountain road curving and car lights driving around pine tree

Sensory Processing Disorder and Driving

November 13, 2019December 14, 2021 Genevieve2 Comments

Table of Contents

Proprioception in Cars
1. a. Peripersonal Space
Visual Challenges
Driving with Dyspraxia
Practice, Practice, Practice

Ah, driving. The ultimate achievement of teenage freedom (in the US, at least). For anyone learning to drive, teenage or adult, the convenience and independence of a license is powerful motivation. I’ve been driving for years, now, but it wasn’t an easy process to get my license. At the time, I wasn’t as cognizant of my symptoms, but looking back, I can see why I struggled so much with having Sensory Processing Disorder and driving.

Proprioception in Cars

Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) makes it hard for me to interpret sensory stimuli, including proprioceptive information. Proprioception is the sense that tells you where your body is located in space. I struggle with motion sickness on buses, boats, even escalators, because the movement doesn’t match my brain’s sense of where my body should be. Initially, this made driving a car incredibly stressful; relative to your body, the car is not moving, but relative to the ground, it’s moving a LOT. Coordinating the movements of driving with the interpretation of how the car responds took a while to become natural. Once it did, though, it made my motion sickness in cars much better, as long as I’m the one driving.

Peripersonal Space

When you’re driving a car, your “body” sense expands to include the dimensions of the vehicle. This is called “peripersonal space”- the sense that expands and contracts to include the objects in our immediate surroundings. In The Body Has a Mind of its Own, authors Sandra and Matthew Blakesley explain,

“When you drive a car, your peripersonal space expands to include it, from fender to fender, from fender to door, and from tire to roof. As you enter a parking garage with a low ceiling, you can “feel” the nearness of your car’s roof to the height barrier as if it were your own scalp. This is why you instinctively duck when you pass under the barrier.”

Learning how to manage Sensory Processing Disorder and driving took me a while, in part because it was a challenge for me to get a sense of the dimensions of a car. Now that my brain has established it as effectively a part of my body, driving with SPD is much simpler. However, there are additional layers of difficulty that, no matter how much I learn, might always be challenging.

car side mirror with city and other cars in reflection — *Photo by Onaivi Dania on Unsplash*

Visual Challenges

The visual tasks involved in driving can quickly become overwhelming. Monitoring the movement of cars around you, watching for signals, brake lights, and obstacles in the road is already a lot to handle. Add to that the stress of driving in an unfamiliar area and attempting to read street signs and highway exit signs while managing the rest of your visual tasks, and you have a veritable mountain of sensory stimuli to deal with.

Driving with Dyspraxia

I think that the processing power I dedicate to handling visual stimuli while driving leaves little for planning complex movements, known as praxis. I have symptoms of dyspraxia, meaning I have trouble following sequences of actions and, even more so, planning the steps involved in getting from A to B by myself. If I can prepare ahead of time, I’m fine, but I really struggle to make decisions in the moment because I feel like I can’t process all of the information fast enough to take the right action.

Driving with dyspraxia makes me an anxious planner. If I’m going somewhere new, I study Google Maps obsessively, considering the factors I do or don’t like in each route. Is there a highway involved? Can I take a route with fewer lanes? If I miss a turn, how easy would it be to fix? How early should I leave to account for any mistakes? As I’ve become more comfortable with the other aspects of driving- the sensitivity of the pedals and the steering wheel, the dimensions of the car, predicting what other drivers are going to do- I can dedicate more mental energy to handling praxis. I still plan my routes in new places, but I’m more confident in my ability to get back on track if I get lost.

Sensory Processing Disorder and Driving Takes Practice, Practice, Practice

If you’re struggling with Sensory Processing Disorder symptoms and driving, an occupational therapist can help you identify your particular difficulties and come up with ways to make them easier. Whether you work with an occupational therapist or not, the best way to get comfortable with driving is to practice. When you have sensory overstimulation in the car, the last thing you feel like doing is getting back in the driver’s seat, I know. Trust me, I rolled my eyes so hard at everyone who told me that practicing would make it feel more natural; I felt like I just wasn’t made for driving and no amount of practice would change that. I admit- I was wrong. Practice does help, and I find that now that I’m adept at each aspect of driving and can better regulate my nervous system, my sensitivities probably make me a more mindful, safer driver than I would be otherwise.

3 Things My Dog Teaches Me About Listening to My Body

September 10, 2019 Genevieve4 Comments

Ever since I welcomed my puppy, Stella, into my life, I’ve noticed some things about how she treats her body. Unlike Stella, I have trouble recognizing what my body needs; Sensory Processing Disorder can make it hard to discriminate one feeling from another, and to identify what actions would fix an uncomfortable sensation. My dog, however, is especially in tune with her body. Sometimes I marvel at how good she is at giving herself what she needs. In honor of that, here are three things I’ve learned from Stella about listening to my body.

Test Your Surroundings

Stella has no qualms about finding a new place to hang out, no worries about offending others by moving. She goes from place to place as she wants. If the bed becomes too hot or too soft, she switches to the floor. If she feels too exposed around loud noises, she finds somewhere sheltered to lay.

The number of times I’ve kept myself from moving or adjusting my surroundings because I might stand out is too many to count. The little things can make a big difference in how you see your environment and how you feel in your body. Small adjustments help us regulate our nervous systems– a cold drink can wake you up while a warm one can calm you. Do you like your feet to feel secure, or do you prefer the freedom of open-toed shoes? Break up the monotony of your schedule by riding your bike to school or work every once in a while. I work on the computer a lot, and when my slouch has reached extreme levels, I know it’s time to get up and stretch. Take a page from Stella’s book, and feel free to get comfortable in your environment.

Express Your Emotions

Dogs don’t lie about how they feel; if you know how to read their body language, it’s easy to tell when they’re feeling happy, anxious, confident, or any other reaction to outside stimuli. There’s a certain amount of uncomfortable stimuli that we all must face every day. Maybe you hate the feeling of brushing your teeth, yet you do it because it’s important for your health. Maybe you’re sensitive to temperatures and dislike walking to work in the heat, but have limited transportation options. There are times that we have to prepare ourselves for and recover from unpleasant feelings that are unavoidable. There are also times when we suppress our instincts because we think we “should” be able to handle something. If there’s a way that you or someone else can adjust your surroundings to make you more comfortable, speak up!

Look for Joy

Stella loves a lot of things; she loves barking at rabbits, playing in sprinklers, and rolling in the grass. The things that she enjoys the most are the ones that require spontaneity. She approaches every dog she meets with a play bow; there’s no time like the present to make a new friend. She lives entirely in the moment, and whatever feels right to her is what she does– (sometimes to my immense frustration).

Look for joy in the little things. Find ways to have fun with boring activities. When no input is exciting or fun, we become understimulated and listless. So, jump in those puddles, paint with your fingers, and put your waste paper basket far away so you have to toss things from your desk. I don’t know, whatever brings you joy.

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Traveling with Sensory Processing Disorder

July 26, 2019November 19, 2021 Genevieve2 Comments

I’ve been traveling a lot lately, and I’m worn out. While waiting to board my latest flight home, I pretty much sat at the gate in a sensory stupor while the gate agents droned on the speaker about checking your carry-on bag. Because I have Sensory Processing Disorder, I needed an afternoon (or more) to reset my nervous system and return to the real world as a functioning human being. Unfortunately, airports have very few places in which to hide from the noise, movement, and general chaos of airport activity. (But for help finding those rare spots, check out sleepinginairports.net)

Dyspraxia, SPD, and Airports

And, it’s not just the crowds of people that are overstimulating- it’s also the tasks you have to do in order to get onto your flight. These tasks fall under the concept of praxis. In the context of Sensory Processing Disorder, dyspraxia refers to difficulty with planning complex movements and tasks. It falls under the Sensory-Based Motor Disorder subtype of Sensory Processing Disorder.

Tackling Motor Planning Challenges

I have symptoms of dyspraxia, so encountering uncertain situations can be stressful and draining for me. Standing in lines is okay for me; it’s ordered, it’s neat, and the most difficult part for me is identifying which kiosk just opened up (might take me a little longer, but I’ll get it eventually). Security is a mess. People crossing from the main line to a security line across the room, the choices involved in preparing your things to go through the imaging machine (should I take off my shoes first? What about my belt?), and then all of a sudden the line has moved ahead and I’m the dam holding back a flood of grumpy people trying to catch their flights. At least, that’s what I always worry will happen. In reality, it usually goes more smoothly than I expect, and I imagine we look more like ants, focused on our own tasks with occasional hiccups but somehow hurrying around one another to reach our destinations without incident.

Airports Have All the Sensory Stimuli

Airports are visually busy, and with loudspeaker announcements, children crying, businessmen talking shop on their cell phones; it’s a barrage of auditory assaults for people with sensitive nervous systems. Not to mention the vestibular hurdles- the moving walkways clogged with people, the escalator that somehow jostles you up and down while also transporting you diagonally to the next floor. Too much of this, and I begin to get vertigo, letting me know that I’m nearing my limit.

Tips for Traveling with Sensory Processing Disorder

Airports are challenging places to navigate for people with Sensory Processing Disorder. Luckily, there are strategies you can use to make your airport experience less stressful.

Get organized the night before to set yourself up for success.
- Print your ticket.
- Organize your belongings so that essential items are easy to grab.
- Double check your arrangements for transportation. Have parking, shuttle busses, or your ride from a friend figured out in advance.
- Consider writing down important information in one easily accessible place. Having your terminal, gate, airline, flight times and numbers, and your itinerary at the ready can help you feel prepared.
- Wear clothing that makes getting through security simple.
Bring things that ground you.
- Mints, hard candy, gum.
- Strong smells such as in diffuser jewelry or a travel deodorant.
- Weighted lap pad, compression socks, hats, and other clothing that calms you.
- Headphones and a supply of music or your favorite content.
Give yourself time to recover after your flight.
Be patient with yourself and others.
Take care of the needs you can control.
- Food and water.
- Wear layers.
- Bring travel toiletries.
- Try to be rested before your adventure!

Traveling with Sensory Processing Disorder may take a little more planning and some extra self-care, but with any luck, you’ll get to your destination as cool and self-regulated as possible.

Why I Love Hiking: a Sensory Photo Narrative

May 25, 2019May 25, 2019 Genevieve2 Comments

Mud squelches underneath my boots, and I reach out with my fingers to balance myself against a tree. I can feel the pack on my shoulders, hear birds chirping, and smell the sharp scent of pine needles.

I love hiking both because I love nature and because it fulfills nearly all of my sensory requirements. I can go at my own pace and under the power of my own body; only the weather and the wildlife are out of my control. When the world around you is overwhelming and hard to understand, it’s nice to put on a backpack with everything you’ll need for the day and let your legs carry you just as far as you want to go. Along the way, every element of a hike serves as a sensory “snack”. The vestibular input of balancing on rocks as I cross a stream. The feeling of my arms swinging at my sides as I get into a rhythm. The soft, spongy moss that I pause to touch with my fingertips.

I don’t like the dried moss surrounding it, but I notice a smooth piece of quartz that draws my eye.

Later, we stop for lunch and I study the rust-colored mud on my boots.

My pack feels secure; it’s a comforting weight. We get up to investigate the surrounding plants, and I look back at our lunch spot. It’s breathtaking in the sunlight.

I hear my dog lapping up some water from her bowl, and I take a moment to appreciate her presence.

We find some prickly pears and admire their toughness. Centers chewed through, their spiny armor breached, they continue to survive. We don’t touch them; we just look at the color and shape of them.

Across the path, a Ponderosa pine stands tall and broad. This one isn’t in the sun, but I gently scratch the bark and lean in to smell it. Warm Ponderosa pine bark smells like vanilla, and it’s one of my favorite parts of hiking. This one offers a very faint fragrance. It smells like vanilla and fresh cookies and hiking and happiness.

After lunch, we decide that it’s time to head back. Back through the forest, back through the mud, back through the tall grass at the base of the mountain. When we get home, I settle on the lawn with my dog, our muscles tired but happy, and our senses satisfied. Time for a well-deserved nap.

College and SPD: Dealing with Overwhelm

May 20, 2019 GenevieveLeave a comment

In my last “College and SPD” post, I talked about what I wish I had known about living with Sensory Processing Disorder while in college. This time, I’m going to share what I learned about self-regulation throughout my four years at a large university.

First, a Story

Let me set the scene: I was a sophomore, sitting in the largest lecture hall in the Chemistry Building at my university. The class was Organic Chemistry, and the year was 2015. It was the height of popularity for Bruno Mars’s song, “Uptown Funk”, and nobody was safe from its groovy, brass beat. My 200-some classmates and I were sitting there, trying to draw the chair conformation of alpha glucose with the same finesse as Professor N., when from the back of the hall came the sharp staccato of percussion instruments. If I could describe the look of pure bewilderment on Prof. N.’s face as a group known for interrupting lectures launched into a truly impressive rendition of “Uptown Funk”, I would. But it escapes description. As for the song: it was loud, it was exhilarating, and it left the class reeling for the remaining 30 minutes. Prof. N. was commendably patient and picked up her lecture where she left off, but my peers were distracted and buzzing with excitement.

The spike of adrenaline that I get from the sound of a dropped saucepan or a vacuum being turned on is just like the feeling of having your train of thought derailed by six thespians with trumpets, a bass, and some killer vocal cords. That day in Organic Chemistry was one of the few times I haven’t felt alone in my sensitivity. It was so jarring that you couldn’t help but react, and I wasn’t the only one!

There’s Always Something

Musical interruptions are not commonplace, at least not at my alma mater. There are, however, plenty of stimuli to put you on edge.

home_flexi1 — Why do you have to scream? Also, how is this legal?

From the hordes of students clogging the walkways to the documentary clips played at full volume during your history class, to the inebriated bachelorette party on that weird bicycle/drinking bus that passes under your window at midnight.

I quickly found that I needed more time to recharge than I did before college. I also found that it was more difficult to find time to do so. I was swamped with assignments, study groups, and exam prep, and feeling the pressure of those expectations that I should live it up.

I Did Not “Live it Up”

My sophomore-year roommate and I went to one (1) party and spent the entire time shouting over the music to help a drunk student whose friends had lost track of her. For a while, I thought there must be something that I was missing out on. Why would so many people enthusiastically subject themselves to that? The answer is that my threshold for intense stimuli is probably much, much lower than that of someone who loves to party. Parties are loud, crowded, and messy; all things that raise my nervous system’s arousal past where it’s comfortable. While a little bit is enough to overwhelm me, it’s perfect for someone who craves that kind of input. Eventually, I accepted that the party scene just isn’t my thing, and I was much happier for it.

Find What’s Soothing

While you can simply choose not to go to parties, there are some aspects of college life that are unavoidably draining. For the general stress of being a college student, I found that establishing a routine was immensely helpful. Breakfast is my favorite meal and probably my favorite time of the day. I’d wake up at the same time, head down to the dining hall with my own mug, get some coffee and food, and start my day off right (read: predictably).

Having my own space set up the way I liked it was also helpful. Many people don’t have the option of living alone in college, but even when I had roommates, I tried to make my desk and bed into little sanctuaries where I could shelter and recharge. My weighted blanket is wonderful, and I learned to never underestimate the power of changing into pajamas.

When my insomnia was at its worst, it took me two hours to fall asleep at night. I just couldn’t settle down; I’d consciously relax my body, and then ten minutes later, realize it was tense again. All the while, my mind was running through deadlines and anxieties. Taking some time in between schoolwork and bed to do something soothing helped my insomnia. I brought my favorite poetry and fiction books from home so that I could read something enjoyable but not too exciting. I also did mental word games to keep my mind occupied until I could fall asleep.

I would have done some things differently if I’d known more about SPD, but I still found ways to cope. Looking back, I suppose that means that I shouldn’t discount my intuition. Listening to it and not judging it is the hard part.

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Explaining SPD to Health Professionals

May 3, 2019March 31, 2021 Genevieve2 Comments

It’s become clear that I have a hard time explaining how Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) affects me, particularly when I’m speaking to health professionals.

When I was recently hospitalized, I spoke to a ton of mental health professionals, all of whom asked me about my diagnoses. I had no trouble letting them know about my diagnosis of Major Depressive Disorder, nor did I struggle to tell them about my childhood history of OCD. Disclosing that I have Sensory Processing Disorder was something that I was oddly unprepared for. I either would minimize it by mentioning it as an afterthought, neglect to mention it at all, or not do an adequate job of explaining it if I was asked follow-up questions.

Sensory Processing Disorder is not in the DSM, and I’m never sure whether the person I’m speaking to believes in its validity. I’ve never run into anyone who gives me reason to believe they don’t, but the disorder’s lack of diagnostic acceptance puts me on edge. SPD is a neurological condition that results in differences in how the brain processes information. Does this make it a physical health condition or a mental health condition? SPD has multiple sub-disorders; is it enough to simply say “I have SPD”? How should I go about explaining my disorder without minimizing it or coming across as defensive?

Usually, when someone asks me how SPD affects me, I end up saying something like “I’m over-responsive to a lot of stimuli, so things like loud noises, bright lights, and certain textures really bother me.” While accurate, this doesn’t capture the extent to which SPD affects me. Saying loud noises bother me doesn’t illustrate that I have to spend 2-3 full minutes psyching myself up with my finger on the button before I turn on the blender. When I say that changes to my routine drain me, what I really mean is that I once had a full-blown panic attack while driving on the highway because I had to leave earlier than usual and it was drizzling.

Sensory Processing Disorder is real. It’s also hard to explain. I’ve started using a mixture of SPD terminology and real-life examples to illustrate my symptoms, and while it’s difficult, I combat my tendency to understate everything by tossing in some descriptive adjectives like “overwhelming,” “draining,” and “dysregulated”. The vast majority of health professionals just want to help, so describing your challenges as accurately as possible is really the best approach. Plus, advocating for yourself is important, something that I recently learned firsthand. But, that’s a story for another time.

How do you explain SPD to health professionals? Share your tips in the comments!

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The Weekly Plan: Structure and Expectations

March 27, 2019 Genevieve3 Comments

I recently wrote a post about SPD and dyspraxia, in which I mentioned using a weekly plan to help me deal with uncertainty and change. In all honesty, I haven’t used my weekly plan in a while, so I’m hoping that reflecting on what worked for me and what didn’t might encourage me to get back into it.

How to Make a Weekly Plan

There really isn’t one right way to make a weekly plan. I like to create mine with an hourly-organized template so that I can schedule each part of my day. It helps me stay on track and prevent procrastination. Sometimes I take more of a loose, overarching goal approach where I identify a couple of tasks per day or week that I want to accomplish, and then fit those in around my normal routine.

I’ve tried a paper planner and a digital notes app, and I’d say I prefer the digital method; I can refer to it anytime because, like a typical millennial, I’m never far from my phone. It’s also easy to alter by replacing items or copy and pasting them to another day/list. The digital method also appeals to me because replacing tasks leaves no evidence of the previous one, as with paper and pen, which brings me to another point:

Pitfalls

I had to dedicate several weeks to trial and error when starting my weekly plans as part of my occupational therapy. I tend to avoid making choices as much as is humanly possible (thanks, sensory discrimination challenges), so when I’m faced with a decision like “digital or paper?” I won’t know which one I prefer until I try both and compare them.

Rigidity

Here, we come back to the “digital changes leave no trace”. This is a relic of my own high expectations for myself and my reluctance to change plans. I found that erasing (or worse- crossing out) tasks in my weekly plan when I couldn’t complete them brought on a sense of guilt and failure. Nevermind that I imposed the plan in the first place and may have bitten off more than I could chew. Once it’s in the plan, I have to do it, right? Nope- moving things around and postponing some tasks is often necessary. Something takes longer than you anticipated, an unexpected problem arises, or you’re really just not up for tackling a particular task that day. I think eventually, I’ll get better at finding the balance of flexibility and rigidity, but until then, a digital format works best for me. That way, I don’t have to see the faint outlines of my overly ambitious, past plans.

Too Much Detail

Honestly, this is still something I struggle with. It’s tricky to know how much is reasonable to plan into one day, especially because, as with the previous section, sometimes things come up and you’ve got to shift gears. When I started figuring out my weekly plans, I started seeing improvements in my productivity, and consequently, my mood. Riding the wave of that success, I was perhaps a bit overzealous in my weekly planning and crammed as much detail as possible into each day. Every hour was occupied by some task, either work-related or relaxation-related. (You can imagine that that approach wasn’t very conducive to relaxation.) Ultimately, too much detail would lead me to fall “behind” on my plan, start to feel discouraged, and sometimes just give up on the day altogether. Now, I like to leave a buffer zone around work tasks and intentionally leave at least a couple of hours empty to take care of little chores or just sit around and do nothing.

My Ideal Plan with Sensory Processing Disorder

I think that anyone can benefit from a weekly plan; even if you try it and decide it’s not for you, you’ll likely learn something about yourself in the process.

I’m over-responsive to a lot of stimuli, and I have some issues with discriminating sensory information, so I do best with predictability. Routine is how I function best, and spur-of-the-moment action makes me anxious. For me, my ideal weekly plan is one that looks pretty similar to the previous week’s. Whether I write it out or keep it in my head, my day-to-day routine is remarkably consistent; and that’s how I like it. For someone who seeks more stimulation, this might be incredibly dull, so it’s certainly not for everyone. I keep most of what I do every day the same, and then sprinkle in equal amounts of fun and dreaded tasks. Going to the dentist on Tuesday? Make Wednesday a library day. Need to go grocery shopping? Pick up a treat as a reward. When things start to get a little too consistent, I go back to the drawing board and make an effort to incorporate new activities.

Extra Tips

Keep a running to-do list for when you’re at a loss for what to do.
Pick a day of the week to sit down and plan the next one.
Break large tasks down into smaller chunks to be accomplished over time.
Don’t take it too seriously- it’s a tool, not a rule.

Love, Your Brain

Tag: SPD