We live in a world which constantly bombards us with stimuli. Sometimes that is exciting and invigorating; other times, exhausting and overwhelming. For those of us who are particularly prone to sensory overload, a world full of stimuli can often feel like a world which we can barely survive. What if we don’t want to just survive – what if we want to thrive?
For me, learning to move past survival mode took a while, but I am so glad I finally took steps forward. The first step was realizing that I did not have to be at the mercy of stimulus; the second step was accepting that would mean making some life changes. The second part was the hardest part; making life changes felt a lot like defeat most days, but forcing myself to look at what I would gain rather than what I was losing was always helpful.
Ultimately, what I have found to be most helpful is viewing stimulus tolerance as something which I could/should budget. While this isn’t something I can really quantify, an informed, educated, experienced estimate is usually possible. I have learned that I really cannot take it day by day – I almost have to take it week by week. Tomorrow’s accomplishments depend on today’s choices, so thinking ahead is a must! Here are some examples of what that means for me:
- My longest day is followed by the day I work from home. By the time Tuesday night rolls around, my brain is usually feeling pretty wiped. Working from home the next day means I can get a little more sleep, and I have significantly less stimulus (no commute, no noisy office, etc…). I can push myself a bit more on Tuesday because I know that overall, Wednesday is going to be more brain-friendly.
- I have started inviting people to come to me. In a lot of ways, this is for much the same reason as the Tuesday/Wednesday concept: having them come to me means my environment is controlled and familiar, and energy I want to spend interacting with them hasn’t been “wasted” on driving or the distractions which come from being somewhere other than your own home.
- Knowing my own limitations is crucial. If I want to participate in a conversation (as opposed to sitting there with a vacant look the whole time), it means there can’t really be more than two or three other people, and it needs to be in a quiet, calm environment.
- Travel has to be thought through. I was recently stuck in an airport for nine hours on my way home. While I would not have done this previously, I paid the $35 to be in a quiet lounge – I knew that $35 would mean all the difference the next day when I was sitting at my desk.
Learning all of this has not come easily. There are still days when I mourn the loss of “normal life”: being able to sit in a coffee shop with a group of friends and discuss theology; going to a concert; people watching in a busy airport. That said, learning to keep my brain happy is what enables me to get the most out of life.
The Girl with the Glass Brain 