That’s the real communication chasm, because for me - not talking is way way harder. When my S.O. isn’t open with me I assume they’re making a deliberate choice to withhold information to hurt me or appear strong. Either way they’re excluding me from their life, which means they’re ready to move on and don’t love me anymore.
A state of being in which you find it harder to talk than not to talk is so alien to me it’s beyond imagination anyone could exist in such a manner.
If it helps any I can try to describe what it’s like for me when I’m approaching meltdown territory and can’t speak easily:
My skin feels like it’s being electrocuted, with shocking/crawling sensations, especially in my limbs. It feels like I have to pull each thought and word out of molasses to form a coherent sentence, it’s slow and requires a lot of effort. The sound and sensation of my own voice reverberating in my head, even when I speak quietly, is so intense that I only want to use the minimum words possible. My entire body is heavily fatigued, as if I worked out very hard the day before and haven’t rested properly. That’s not even going into ‘normal’ masking stuff that also takes effort, like making sure my tone is right, using an appropriate expression, etc.
When I’m in that state the only thing that’s good for me is a dark room and a weighted blanket. After that (sometimes hours, sometimes a day or more) I’m good to talk about it… if there’s even anything to talk about! Sometimes it’s literally just “I heard too many car horns today” or something like that.
Yeah, it’s pretty unfun! Masking (trying to act non-autistic) also makes it worse for a lot of people. Fortunately I’ve learned a lot of ways I can delay or deal with sensory overload, but sometimes it’s unavoidable.
That’s the real communication chasm, because for me - not talking is way way harder. When my S.O. isn’t open with me I assume they’re making a deliberate choice to withhold information to hurt me or appear strong. Either way they’re excluding me from their life, which means they’re ready to move on and don’t love me anymore.
A state of being in which you find it harder to talk than not to talk is so alien to me it’s beyond imagination anyone could exist in such a manner.
If it helps any I can try to describe what it’s like for me when I’m approaching meltdown territory and can’t speak easily:
My skin feels like it’s being electrocuted, with shocking/crawling sensations, especially in my limbs. It feels like I have to pull each thought and word out of molasses to form a coherent sentence, it’s slow and requires a lot of effort. The sound and sensation of my own voice reverberating in my head, even when I speak quietly, is so intense that I only want to use the minimum words possible. My entire body is heavily fatigued, as if I worked out very hard the day before and haven’t rested properly. That’s not even going into ‘normal’ masking stuff that also takes effort, like making sure my tone is right, using an appropriate expression, etc.
When I’m in that state the only thing that’s good for me is a dark room and a weighted blanket. After that (sometimes hours, sometimes a day or more) I’m good to talk about it… if there’s even anything to talk about! Sometimes it’s literally just “I heard too many car horns today” or something like that.
That sounds horrible!
Yeah, it’s pretty unfun! Masking (trying to act non-autistic) also makes it worse for a lot of people. Fortunately I’ve learned a lot of ways I can delay or deal with sensory overload, but sometimes it’s unavoidable.