neurodiversity

For as long as I can remember, I’ve found comfort in repetition. It’s one of those things that feels deeply embedded into who I am. For me, it isn’t just habitual, it’s instinctive. It’s a way for me to soothe myself when I feel disconnected, overwhelmed or unsettled. For many neurodivergent people, repetition is a coping mechanism that helps with self-regulation.

For me, it shows up in a variety of different ways, like listening to the same music over and over again. I just love knowing the lyrics to a song and being able to sing along without thinking about it. What I like to refer to as “my music,” never gets old to me. These songs remind me of long drives through the desert, social gatherings, or just nights spent at home trying to ease my mind. Repetition makes me feel comforted, and when I need to feel a little extra cared for, I turn to “my music,” to help me get through whatever it may be that I’m going through.

The same goes for movies and TV shows. I’ll rewatch old favorites over and over because I know exactly what to expect. There are no surprises, no sudden twists or turns, and it’s perfect for background noise when I’m preoccupied doing something else at home. Sure, it’s predictable, but for me, I find a great deal of relief in that.

Repetition also shows up in how I communicate. When I’m feel anxious or stressed, I repeat words. Sometimes I’ll say them out loud or quietly mumble words under my breath. Either way, it helps me cope. It’s how I deal with uncomfortable situations. Sometimes, I’ll even echo someone’s words. It’s like a delay, a time to process what’s being said and how I should respond.

During times where I’m experiencing a meltdown or a tantrum, I’ll repeat comforting words like, “I’m okay,” constantly until I feel the ache start to soothe. There’s this insurmountable pressure I feel throughout my body during these times. It’s like a heaviness that comes over me inside and out, and there’s little room for release. But repetition of words has become a very effective way for me to settle my nerves.

Lately, I’ve tried to look at repetition in a more positive light. I used to think that something was wrong with me for having to step aside and repeat things to myself in order to calm myself. I truly thought it was an oddity that no one else did. But what I’ve recognized is that it’s a unique part of me. It’s how I function in the world and find my inner peace, and that’s not something to be ashamed of. It keeps my mind steady when things feel out of hand.

I often wish I would venture into new experiences more often, but for now I’ll stick with my routine. Repetition gives me stability, ease, and comfort. It might sound dull and ordinary to some, but for me, it’s healing.

“Repetition is not monotony; it’s the rhythm of comfort.-Unknown

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The sky early this morning, a tiny gecko on my window, a lollipop plant, and golden trumpets that my clients and I saw during our walk at the park today. Just some little things that brought me joy today. How are you doing out there?

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People usually assume that I’m calm, cool, and collected, but that’s only because I hide what I’m really feeling underneath. Some might say to me, “You seem fine,” or “You’re handling it so well.” And in many ways, I am, but what others don’t see is the invisible labor that anxiety demands every single day.

Living with anxiety isn’t just a feeling, it’s a constant form of work. It’s the mental outline of everything that runs through my mind about of all the “what ifs.” “Did I say the right thing? Did I forget something? What if everything goes wrong? It’s the exhausting assumptions I make in social situations and the repeated rehearsals I conduct in my head that make me retreat inward.

Sometimes anxiety feels like a state of paranoia, as if all eyes are on me. For some reason I jokingly like to think that I’m the center of attention and the world revolves around me. But I can’t always help but feel like everyone is watching my every move, judging me, critiquing me. It’s exhausting, and it feels nearly impossible to be kind to yourself when your trapped in anxiety and self-doubt.

Anxiety not only lives in my mind, but my body as well. I have the tight shoulders, a racing heart, shallow breathing, stomach knots and constant headaches. My shoulders especially have a lot of tension built up. I like to refer to it as my knots upon knots, but in all honesty, it feels like a heavy weight resting there all the time. The physical symptoms are often hidden behind my “smile,” or my “calm exterior.” No one sees how much energy it takes to appear “normal” while your body is in constant alert mode.

Having anxiety means developing countless coping mechanisms, many of which are invisible. I quietly do deep breathing exercises before making or answering a call. I rehearse social interactions in my head, so I don’t stumble in conversations. I’ll retreat to a quiet corner to recover from overstimulation. These strategies are vital, but it’s hard to see them. They’re private battles that are fought alone.

Then there’s the emotional effort of managing how my anxiety affects others. I often feel guilty for being “difficult” or “moody.” I find myself consistently apologizing for taking up space and hiding my panic, so my friends and family don’t worry. Every moment of suppression is an extra effort, and it takes a lot of inner strength to fight through it and keep going.

Despite all the things I quietly go through, it’s a reminder that even though I live with anxiety, it doesn’t beat me. I’m fiercer and more capable than I think I am. I’ve been acknowledging my efforts and have given myself some leniency to transform that weight of anxiety into a reminder of my strength and resilience.

“Anxiety is love’s greatest lesson: it teaches us how strong we are, even when we feel weak.”--Unknown

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