It’s that time of year again, SCHOOL’S STARTING, and for the sensory sensitive, you know what that means…

That’s right. Time to scream and run for the hills.

I thought I’d make a blog post about school, because for me and many of you reading this blog, school was an awful time. This post will be about my personal experience with school, but please realize that – like most things – our disabilities and experiences run on a spectrum. This means that my experience may be vastly different from yours, even if we have the same set of problems. Still, I’m sure everyone will relate to what I’m about to say.

Now that the mumbo jumbo is over, let’s take a trip down memory lane:

Preschool was a fun and exciting adventure for me. I got to leave my mom, and go to a land of noisy, confusing, miniature idiots. Preschool went like this:

Ma left me with the idiots, but only for a short while until she figured out that preschool just wasn’t for me. So I stayed home and focused on more important things:

Soon enough, kindergarten arrived. Ready or not, I had to go. Well, I didn’t always go. Guess who had the award for most school absences ever? Yea, it was me. You guessed correctly, good job.

This pattern continued for like, ever.

I had my reasons….

Meanwhile on the school bus:

The students had faded to loud, swirly blobs that encompassed all my hatred of school bus traveling.

Meanwhile, in the classroom:

Sometimes, I became desperate and mentally deranged. Things got violent, sort of:

(Ok so, that last bit never happened. But you get the point… no pun intended).

Meanwhile, in the cafeteria:

Then middle school rolled along, and hey, it sucked too! Especially in 7th/8th grade, where my sensory sensitivities escalated for some reason. I still don’t know why that happened, I can only speculate what happened in my brain:

 

 

In middle school, I was diagnosed with Hyperacusis, which is the inability to tolerate normal sounds. When I say “normal,” I’m referring to the sound of someone’s voice, or the sound of a car/bus passing, or the sound of a chair being pushed under a desk.

My other senses were heightened as well – just as they always were – but my noise intolerance dominated my life. It was around this time that I turned to drawing as a source of coping.

In high school, life suckage reached an all time high. The expectation of me getting through the day was flawed and destined for failure.

The idiots from preschool were basically the same:

 

I began to think things:

There was forced learning collaboration with students I’d wish to avoid at all costs:

 

 

There was also lockers slamming, constant switching of classes, 7+ hours of constant sensory bombardment, and the expectation to perform academically, socially, etc.  Also…FIRE DRILLS. I’m lucky to have survived, honestly.

 

Looking back at my time in school, I see a blurry mess of anxiety, stress, homework, noise, and tiny moments of joy. I know the same can be said for everyone living with sensory sensitivities or full-blown SPD. Luckily, times are changing and society is becoming more aware and more tolerant of our unique set of circumstances and needs. Who knows, maybe one day I will start the first SPD Academy, and school will be a freakin’ great time for everyone.

xo kelly