How I Explain the Clarity I Feel After an Autism Meltdown
Those of us on the autism spectrum often do things neurotypical people have difficulty understanding. To outsiders, autistic behavior can look “odd” or seem to “not make sense.” Sometimes a person’s behavior could even be frightening. It’s not uncommon for autistic people to engage in harmful behaviors, especially during a meltdown. For their loved ones, watching someone they care about have a meltdown can be scary and confusing. Let’s face it, meltdowns aren’t pretty, and they’re certainly not fun, especially for the person experiencing one!
Meltdowns can be caused by a whole host of things, and their triggers are different depending on the individual. Many autistic people report struggling to think clearly during a meltdown, and are held at the mercy of their emotions and senses until it passes. The good news is, many also report feelings of clarity after the meltdown has passed.
As a nearly 22-year-old woman on the autism spectrum, this couldn’t be more true for me. A lot of people around me don’t understand why I can have such clarity of my thoughts and intelligent reasoning most of the time, but then still experience meltdowns where I don’t seem to have clear thoughts or the ability to reason. My meltdowns usually stem from being overwhelmed or confused by information or sensory input, major changes without warning and medical procedures. Over the years I’ve learned to cope with the stress of everyday life like any young adult; I might just go about it a little differently.
I work really hard to control what I say and do during a meltdown. In the past, I’ve said or done hurtful things. I try my best to remove myself from the situation to “take a break” in order to collect myself, and return when I’m ready. However, sometimes my best efforts fail, and I’m crying on the floor, unable to think rationally until the feelings pass. I really glad I’ve been able to learn strategies like taking a break somewhere quiet, holding a fidget toy or squeezing my hands in order to get myself back on track.
Everyone seems to question the reason for the meltdown in the first place. If I’m normally so capable of intelligent reasoning and problem solving, why does it happen? I’m not so sure on the specifics of why I can get overwhelmed past a point of no return. I guess the short answer is: autism.
To put it in perspective, here is an analogy that seems to illustrate my personal experience:
Your friend had a cold, and gradually, you begin to feel some of their same symptoms. A runny nose, a headache and sinus congestion slowly infiltrate your body. You begin to feel worse as the day goes on. You finally get home where you can actually take care of yourself. You remember all the times you could breathe through your nose, and how you took them for granted. You wonder how long you’ll be a mouth breather with an increasingly bad headache. Maybe this terrible cold is your new existence?
A few days later you wake up feeling a little better. You reach for a tissue (bear with me here, this may be a little gross), you blow as hard as you can, and it was really productive! You reach for another tissue and suddenly you feel most of the sinus pressure release. You are able to breathe fully through both nostrils. It took some time, self care and maybe the help of a loved one, but you can breathe clearly now.
That may be a little bit extreme, but when I’m overwhelmed, I can feel the pressure building. Sometimes I can grab a tissue and immediately relieve the pressure, and other times, it builds and worsens. However, after going through the worst of it, I can experience that clarity again. I can reflect back on the situation and see that I wasn’t actually dying, it was just a bad cold. That change in my schedule wasn’t actually that bad, in fact it makes sense to do it that way, and I can see that now.
No one likes having a meltdown, but I’ve learned to appreciate the clarity they bring for me after the fact. I appreciate how meltdowns make me reflect on the situation when it’s over and see what I might do differently next time.
Getty image by triocean.