I’m easily overstimulated. It only takes a few variables to leave me close to a meltdown. In the worst case scenarios, I’m essentially blind and deaf – my vision and hearing literally shut down when I can’t take it anymore. Equations like:

loud music + 2 kids talking to me at the same time + being tired

OR

hunger + someone talking to me + trying to execute a left-hand turn

These can easily equal tunnel vision, no vision, or a brief loss of hearing. This has happened while driving and in social situations and it is terrifying.

After reading several books with protagonists who were on the Autism Spectrum, I started to wonder if maybe I was on one end of that, but it didn’t quite feel right. I don’t think it’s that I experience the world that differently from other people, I experience it MORE and LOUDER.

I don’t remember how I came across the books written by Elaine N. Aron, Ph.D., about highly sensitive people. There are a number to choose from, but I went for The Highly Sensitive Parent: Be Brilliant In Your Role, Even When The World Overwhelms You, which I then kept for way past its due date at the library.

So much about this book resonated with me. The highly sensitive person is an introspective, deeply feeling individual. Processing is constant and doesn’t discriminate. We chew our cuds on just about everything. Making decisions can shut a highly sensitive person down (There’s a section in the book for help with decision making).

The mental and emotional bandwidth spent on life is taxing and leaves an HSP (the book’s term, not mine) exhausted sooner than less sensitive folks, and needing more help to make life flow smoothly.

Noise, clutter, and constant questions, for example, can become unbearable, and we can feel ready to explode. When we are rested, we can tolerate the very same stimulation. -Elaine N. Aron, Ph.D

The book is divided into sections based on how to cope and even thrive in situations where HSP’s typically struggle. Draining small talk, finding balance at home, and effective communication with your partner all get attention here. It’s the kind of reference book you want to reread every so often to refresh and make sure you don’t tumble off the bandwagon.

Aron gently holds HSP’s accountable for both shaping their lives in a way that allows them to thrive, and calling them on behavioral and relationship tendencies that have a negative side.

According to Aron, it IS possible to live well even when life’s volume is up way too high. Her primary solution may be the only thing I didn’t like about the book. She says you need help, and she means the hired kind. My thought, which lingered in mind throughout the chapter about help, was how privileged it is have help. And my second thought was, during a pandemic, nearly all her solutions for getting help didn’t seem like options.

I’ve gotten to a tipping point with Pandemic Parenting. My boundaries are so porous and the hyper vigilance of parenting such a variety of individuals with different needs is so exhausting. I know it’s unsustainable, but sometimes keeping things the same (the devil you know, yes?) seems like less work, even when it’s not working.

I’m being forced to think outside the box about my options – nontraditional ways to “get help” that honor the spirit of that chapter (you can’t do this alone) without treading into impractical waters (I had a housekeeper for a time, but I had to fire him and I’m not sure if I’m ready for someone else even if I could use the help).

Hired help isn’t Aron’s only tactic for being highly sensitive. She coaches the reader on how to deal with strong emotions and provides specific phrases to use to express yourself, de-escalate tough situations, and ask for what you need from your partner, and perhaps even more important, how to be a good listener.

Once your partner feels heard by you, express your basic human need in this situation. “I need help. . .” Notice you did not say, “I need your help.” You just have a need for help. Then you negotiate how to get both of your needs met. – Aron

I’m not finished digesting this book and its ideas, but Highly Sensitive Person is a label I feel comfortable with. It’s something I can work with, a set of parameters. It certainly explains why I’ve been two hairs shy of burnout for much of my adult life.

The vest in the photo above is based on an extant from the 1870’s from Folkwear’s Vintage Vests pattern. I had the fabric and pattern for the project since before the pandemic. Progress has been slow. My sewing machine doesn’t do buttonholes in velvet, but this week I learned a method for hand-finished buttonholes that didn’t make me want to scream. Maybe at some point, I’ll finish it, find or make the rest of the outfit (plenty of fabric and patterns, not enough time or energy), and get dressed up. The underpinnings for the project can be found here. The vest has nothing to do with the book, other than the fact that I was working on both at the same time.