Auditory Processing Problems

teddyorionpotter:

biggest-gaudiest-patronuses:

gaypowersunite:

the-kitteh:

runaon:

run-on-lightning:

cupcakeslushie:

autistic-sowachowski:

winterwombat:

kohotli:

reliquariies:

jaspuppy:

aspergersprincess:

• *someone says something* “what?” *repeats themselves* “sorry?” *repeats themselves again* “pardon?”

•"hey, y'see the red thing at the top of the shelf, will you get it?“ “Sorry, what?” “On the sh-” “oh yeah sure, I’ll get it.”

•*doesn’t hear teacher because someone’s pen is making a scratchy sound at the back of the room*

•*replays video 10 ten times to figure out what they’re saying*

•teachers asking, “why do you always stop writing in the middle of a sentence, just write down whatever I’m saying,” followed by the response, “I’m just processing it,” rebuked by, “we’ll stop processing it and just write.”

•*gets really focused on staring out the window and goes through four songs without hearing a single on*

someone is whispering to their friends in the library, you don’t even know who this person is but you know their major, what state they grew up in, and their hobbies during high school. you just wanted to find a quiet spot to do your chemistry homework.

wanting to chime in on other people’s conversations all the time, but don’t, because you’re not suppose to be “listening” to them.

being the only person in the house that can hear that awful buzzing sound certain electronics make

hiding in your room because everything is too loud. 

motorcycles were invented by satan

being told that you have dog-like hearing by friends and family

being yelled at for “not listening” by friends and family. 

God. God. God. God.

This entire post is so fucking relatable it hurts

“You just need to learn to tune it out.”

Forgetting how to think because ambient noise is drowning out your internal monologue. 

“No, I don’t need the volume up, I’d just really like to put on subtitles. No, I don’t need to move closer, I just…”

Leaving the room whenever someone starts talking on the phone. 

Pausing your video whenever someone starts talking but trying really really hard not to seem passive aggressive about it. 

Struggling to explain why this one sound is the most horrible thing in the world while other very similar sounds are fine. 

you’re trying to listen to what some very important person is trying to say, but you can only focus on the conversations of the ppl around you

sitting in a restaurant and thinking the people sitting next to you are being SO loud because you can hear everything they’re saying, but when you mention it you get weird looks so obviously you’re just overreacting.

not being able to handle the little keyboard sounds as your mom types a text from across the room, but when you ask your mom (who is a quadruple texter) to put her phone on silent you get a murderous look, like you’ve asked her to kill her cat.

turning on ambient noises and trying to relax, only to end up turning it off because it’s not actually helping you fall asleep.

“the speakers are making this high pitched noise”

“what the hell are you talking about?”

“THE SPEAKERS ARE PRACTICALLY SCREAMING HOW DO YOU NOT HEAR THAT??”

“Just ignore it, and focus on the show.”

people telling me “how the fuck can you hear the wall clock ticking but not understand a word im saying when im talking to you??” (i swear i’m not ignoring you, i just can’t process your words)

and the absolute kicker:  it took me nearly three decades of life to realise that all of the above meant I had an auditory processing disorder because, quite frankly, it isn’t discussed enough.  and by enough, i mean at all.

I… experienced way too many of these not to be stunned right now.

I…am I?…I’d answer allot of questions….shit

a few things i do that help me! may or may not be practical for you, but can’t hurt to share

• carry earplugs everywhere. i got a bottle of like 40 pairs on amazon for $6. i have a pair in my wallet, my bags, my pocket, etc
• they come in different degrees of softness–softer ones let you dull sharp sounds while also letting you listen to lectures/carry on conversations. 
• heavy pairs ones can block out most sounds when you really need silence
• don’t underestimate the usefulness of wearing just one. sometimes i’ll wear only one earplug when i’m sleeping and worried about missing my alarm
• spend time alone in silence when you can get it. i’ve noticed my ability to function in public goes hand in hand with being able to have regular ‘recovery’ time. 
• find a handful of songs you can listen to on repeat without really noticing. 
• asmr videos as ambient noise. find what works for you. i like crinkling.
  
• honestly, choosing the right background noise is so useful
• along that note, cheap wireless earbuds are easy to hide in your hair/under a hoodie/scarf. i’ve worn them in class. 
• i’m on medication for my sensory issues. certain medications commonly used to treat anxiety can also help w/ sensory processing issues! if you can, talk to your doctor.
• i don’t hear people talking about this much, which surprises me. my medication is used ‘as needed’ and has saved me several times from public shutdowns/meltdowns. equally importantly, it’s improved my ability to function day-to-day

unrelated but hilarious: i just got a new thing of earplugs and they’re literally ‘sealed for freshness’

add your own!

And don’t forget folks people find it weird if you read their lips so tell people that’s what ur doing so they don’t shout about eye contact!

People always got pissed off/weirded out that I was staring at their mouth but after someone asked what I was doing I realised people dontjust know that so if someone starts The Look say you need to read their lips and you’ll get a slightly different weird look

(via chani)

ribbonsflyingoutthewindow:

actuallyalivingsaint:

petitstar:

aniseandspearmint:

janothar:

misscrazyfangirl321:

wakeupontheprongssideofthebed:

writing-prompt-s:

You’re a regular office worker born with the ability to “see” how dangerous a person is with a number scale of 1-10 above their heads. A toddler would be a 1, while a skilled soldier with a firearm may score a 7. Today, you notice the reserved new guy at the office measures a 10.

You decide it’s best to find out what you can about this person. Cautiously, you approach his desk. He’s a handsome man, tall, but with a disarming smile. How could such a friendly guy with such cute, dorky glasses be dangerous?

You extend your hand. “I noticed you’re new here. What’s your name?”

He shakes your hand warmly. His gaze is piercing, as if he’s looking right through you. “The name’s Clark,” he says. “So, how long have you worked for the Daily Planet?”

This one wins.

It’s been a few weeks, and one of Clark’s friends shows up.  She’s pretty and all, enough muscle that she must work out.  First thought would be that she should be maybe a 6.

Clark’s introducing her around.  “This is my good friend, Diana, she’s in from out of town.”

You blink, and take a step back in fear.  You’ve never seen an 11 before.

The day Bruce Wayne shows up for his long promised interview with Lois Lane, you can’t help it, the mug your holding drops from your fingers and sends a shock of hot coffee and ceramic shards across the floor.

Clark stops a few feet away and squints at you worriedly from behind those ridiculous glasses you’re 99% sure he doesn’t actually need, and asks tentatively, “Everything all right?”

You ignore him in favor of staring at the inky dark numerals hovering over the beaming fool gesticulating some fantastic yacht story for a gaggle of secretaries and minor columnists.

That’s it. Your gift has officially gone haywire. There is no other explanation. Because there is absolutely no way that Brucie Wayne is a 10.

At this point, you’ve seen it all. Miled manner reporters and billionaires at a 10 and a model-like woman at 11. You were really starting to doubt your power. The day you really stopped believeing in it was when Bruce Wayne came for another visit, and this time with a kid. The kid couldn’t be more than 10 years old, a bit on the short side.

He was an 8.

The day you started believing in it again was when you saw on tv the formation of something called the justice league.

There were those same numbers over superman, batman, wonder woman and robin. That’s when you put two and two together. You wonder how nobody at the daily planet noticed that Clarke was Superman with glasses. You wonder why you didn’t notice. You wonder why nobody put two and two together that Diana Prince and Wonder Woman looked exactly the same. You look in the mirror as the realization hit you and you see your own number change from a 3 to a 9.

I don’t think I’ve ever actually reblogged this magnificent post and that’s shame.

(via twistwitch)

pointlesslypointing:

quousque:

oockitty:

coldalbion:

grace-and-ace:

neddythestylish:

memelordrevan:

rosslynpaladin:

iamthethunder:

s8yrboy:

“If autism isn’t caused by environmental factors and is natural why didn’t we ever see it in the past?”

We did, except it wasn’t called autism it was called “Little Jonathan is a r*tarded halfwit who bangs his head on things and can’t speak so we’re taking him into the middle of the cold dark forest and leaving him there to die.”

Or “little Jonathan doesn’t talk but does a good job herding the sheep, contributes to the community in his own way, and is, all around, a decent guy.” That happened a lot, too, especially before the 19th century.

Or, backing up FURTHER

and lots of people think this very likely,

“Oh little Sionnat has obviously been taken by the fairies and they’ve left us a Changeling Child who knows too much, and asks strange questions, and uses words she shouldn’t know, and watches everything with her big dark eyes, clearly a Fairy Child and not a Human Like Us.”

The Myth of the Changeling child, a human baby apparently replaced at a young age by a toddler who “suddenly” acts “strange and fey” is an almost textbook depiction of autistic children.

To this day, “autism warrior mommies” talk about autism “stealing” their “sweet normal child” and have this idea of “getting their real baby back” which (in the face of modern science)  indicates how the human psyche actually does deal with finding out their kid acts unlike what they expected.

Given this evidence, and how common we now know autism actually is, the Changeling myth is almost definitely the result of people’s confusion at the development of autistic children.

Weirdly enough, that legend is now comforting to me.

I think it’s worth noting that many like me, who are diagnosed with ASD now, would probably have been seen as just a bit odd in centuries past. I’m only a little bit autistic; I can pass for neurotypical for short periods if I work really hard at it. I have a lack of talent in social situations, and I’m prone to sensory overload or you might notice me stimming.

But here’s the thing: life is louder, brighter and more intense and confusing than it has ever been. I live on the edge of London and I rarely go into the centre of town because it’s too overwhelming. If I went back in time and lived on a farm somewhere, would anyone even notice there was anything odd about me? No police sirens, no crowded streets that go on for miles and miles, no flickery electric lights. Working on a farm has a clear routine. I’d be a badass at spinning cloth or churning butter because I find endless repetition soothing rather than boring.

I’m not trying to romanticise the past because I know it was hard, dirty work with a constant risk of premature death. I don’t actually want to be a 16th century farmer! What I’m saying is that disability exists in the context of the environment. Our environment isn’t making people autistic in the sense of some chemical causing brain damage. But we have created a modern environment which is hostile to autistic people in many ways, which effectively makes us more disabled. When you make people more disabled, you start to see more people struggling, failing at school because they’re overwhelmed, freaking out at the sound of electric hand dryers and so on. And suddenly it looks like there’s millions more autistic people than existed before.

“…disability exists in the context of the environment.”

Reblog for disability commentary.

That last paragraph is absolutely important.

There’s also some disabilities that effectively don’t exist in a modern environment. Shitty eyesight, for example, is 99% of the time effectively and easily treated with glasses, and is not a disability at all (assuming you can afford the glasses, of course). I don’t have to go to my school’s disability services and request accommodations because I need glasses, and I don’t have to alter my daily life because I wear glasses, because today’s modern environment is perfectly navigable to a person with glasses. If I lived 500 years ago and had the same shitty eyesight, it actually would cause me problems. If only we build the world to accommodate other disabilities the way we accommodate glasses.

All. Of. This.

(Source: mooniicorn, via minuialeth75)

thequantumqueer:

tilthat:

TIL bank robber Jesse James once gave a widow who housed him enough money to pay off her debt collector and then robbed the debt collector to give her back the money.

via reddit.com

a shocking number of old-school american outlaws were intensely community-minded, and their reputations at the time were often very positive among the people. a big part of the reason their legacies are so negative is because the government was able to control the narrative after they died, focusing on the fact that the things they did were illegal, rather than on what they actually did.

(via rebel-clothes)

mixedican:

novitiate2017:

Men get pegged

(via lani09)