The Quiet Room

Duh?? But I thought...

It is my opinion that everyone with Autism needs what I call a quiet room. I remember that even as a kid, I could not understand why my emotions seemed to just blindside me so much. Granted, junior high is a totally different story because I'm pretty sure seventh & eighth grade is hell for everyone.

But I went into a different kind of shock when I began to realize that I still had meltdowns in my teens, twenties, thirties, and now, at almost forty...I still have them. I probably always will. How can we explain that feeling of "drop" we go through that makes it seem like something is out of alignment in the universe...and it must be fixed...NOW!!? What do we do when we feel like we've been punched in the stomach due to something like a change of plans, or the joke we just didn't understand? Maybe it's a busy time of the year like the holiday season and we just have too much going on at once.

I know all too well how it feels: The panic, the shortness of breath, your eyes tearing up, the clenched fists, the tight muscles, the clenched jaw, feeling like you want to yell and scream and cry AND run all at once. I know the overwhelming feeling...like you're drowning. Suddenly, we want to curl into the fetal position on the floor, pull blankets over us and just stay there. "I'm done. I'm tired. Make it stop...make it all go away!!!". I know also, the exhaustion of bottling all of this up, because we know that expressing it simply is not allowed...it's not appropriate. Sometimes, without us even knowing it...our state of mind can "tear" or feel as though it's starting to unravel because we are actually trying to keep a "Niagara Falls" of emotion or panic from escaping. We learn how to keep smiling and fake it. (Hopefully). But sometimes we just don't have the energy. Anyway, all of the above is why, we need a Quiet Room. This is a room where we can disappear to in order to be alone, have our fit...get all the energy out, maybe turn music up loud...whatever we might need to do in order to "clean out" whatever toxic mess has been going on inside, breathe, relax...maybe talk it out as much as we need to, lay down and rest, and then start over.

If someone is single, a bedroom will usually work. Just be mindful of the rooms around you and any loved ones on the other side of the walls. We don't want to hurt, offend, or scare anyone. For that matter, I can't count how many times I've done this! A big thanks to my family for being so amazingly patient wih me! If someone is part of a couple, the quiet room can be really challenging, because the bedroom is shared. This obviously requires some careful thought...and sometimes a lot of work! In my opinion, the most ideal situation, is either when there is an extra bedroom, or even better, an extra space separate from the house like a garage, a barn, or something that can be made into another room. This way, anyone who uses the space is freer to yell, scream and make noise. A meltdown is like an "explosion" of energy that happens internally. Usually it's triggered by something that "rocks our world" (in a bad way) and means a loss of control. I call this an "undercurrent": The worry, panic, and/or anxiety that can be bubbling on the inside, while we are trying to work, socialize, and function normally. It might be tempting to ask how this is different from any other person...don't we all go through this? Well, as I say a lot on here, I am no doctor or anything, but I would say yes.

To a degree, we all go through these things at times. In my opinion, the differences are level of intensity and abilities to cope with changes. I find it extremely ironic that one of the stereotypes surrounding autism s that there seems to be a lack of emotion or empathy involved. In my opinion, this is simply not true. Usually, what is going on is that we are trying desperately to "hold in" an avalanche of fear, hurt, or insecurity we can't seem to take on our own. Sometimes these emotions that we are often said not to have, seep through, and come to the surface, showing themselves as yelling or raising our voice over something that seems trivial, suddenly talking too fast and breathing like we've been running, holding back tears while yelling or screaming, to try to "push away" a show of affection from another that we desperately need...but cannot take at the moment because our own emotions are too intense. Often, we want to talk, and really tell others what the problem is, but we become paralyzed by a fear that we will be misunderstood, and that the whole thing will then be construed as our fault. So, often, we will "close up" or bottle up our feelings...even when we ought to say something. We know this is frustrating for you. It is frustrating for us too. What do we do?? We know this drives you crazy...it does us as well. The problem is, sometimes even what might be considered small changes can hit us like emotional "hammers.". This is why we need the Quiet Room, because even though we may have learned to hide these things well, for the sake of normalcy...the "avalanche" that starts inside has to be dealt with.

I once heard a psychologist on a radio show talking about folks whose brains are wired in such a way that they need to hear themselves say things verbally before something will process in their heads. I have no idea why this is...but at least in my case, I think it's true. I remember, I was constantly accused of not listening or not paying attention as a kid ("I JUST SAID that!"; that sorta thing). To top it off, always saying "I know" as the conversation goes on does not help. We do know...we get it...but usually our brains are a few sentences behind and we appear disinterested. Mental fatigue can cause us to space out, making others in the conversation think we are just being rude, or don't care (see? The stereotype is an inability to show empathy).

No. Think of it this way: imagine that each sentence you say, or each change of thought that comes into a conversation is typed on an index card as the words go into our ears. Each of those cards must be "fed" through the autistic mind, and "read" by our brain in order for those words to compute. It sounds kinda crazy but, we sorta have to "see" it for ourselves. We then contemplate our response and try to choose our words carefully...which can often make others suspicious of us...because what is there to think about? Most neuro typical's (those who are not autistic) give their responses to things quite quickly, which is perfectly normal. For those with Autism, we will often take too long "thinking" about how we want to respond...running things people say to us through the "filter" in our heads. This "thinking" does not mean dishonesty or that we are lying or being secretive. We simply take longer to process things. When this is coupled with too many things to process, too many "cards to read" (if you will)...just too much information, our brains easily end up on overload. (Just my opinion, of course).

This is usually where the irritability comes in, the raising our voices, the outbursts...we might walk off and totally detach from those around us...just needing a place where we can literally examine our own thoughts. A quiet room is just the place for this. For those who do not have the extra room to go to, try to create a space where you can simply "unwind.". There was a time when I used a hall closet. I would sit in the dark with my earphones. I loved it. I barely fit in there, but that made no difference. I put 2 pillows on the floor & one against the wall. I would sit in the dark, under all the coats hung up, with my earphones in...eyes closed...and the scent of the carpet shampoo, and barely used leather. It was my own little cocoon. This was as an adult, by the way, not a kid. For those of you who "talk" without making a sound all the time like I do...this is perfect. You can get everything out...and no one else has to hear. Take some deep breaths and let your music sink in. I would re-emerge from that skinny little room a changed person. My only "compulsion" was wanting to stay in there so long! Yes, absolutely...I'm a firm believer in the Quiet Room.