Tuesday was the second anniversary of my younger brother's death.
I'm trying to find the clean bird feeder for my bird cage, but I can't find it. I know where it's usually at. I know I JUST saw it in the cabinet. I leave my kitchen for a very small amount of time, and when I come back in, it's sitting in the middle of my kitchen floor.
The kitchen I'd spotlessly cleaned the day before.
I'd say my brother said hello.
I don't recommend laughing at your partner while they bring up something that is bothering them. It's not something I would typically do in a relationship. Yet, I did exactly that.
My laughing naturally made my ex angry, and I unnaturally did not care. But we'd already recently crossed a line I hadn't realized yet. I didn't yet understand the feeling that had bubbled up inside me and eventually erupted as laughter.
I was not yet familiar with the feeling that would come to settle next to my soul. The feeling I still have, and I think I'll happily have forever.
The comforting feeling of knowing my boundaries would never again be trampled on repeatedly by one person.
On the first anniversary of my brother's death, it was also Easter. I faked it, kept it together all day, only to finally be given the cold shoulder and silent treatment, in my own home, that I completely paid for alone.
And something inside me just shattered. Not in a bad way. It was the last little glass rod of tolerance for bullshit I was protecting up until that point. It was that last little fragile bit of fear of being alone.
I had no urge to tell anyone my side. I had no urge to keep reliving the bits I was put through in the relationship. I was just over it. Like a switch had been flipped and was now stuck in that position.
How did it become so easy to cut people out of my life? I used to fight for them until my hands bled. It was a vicious cycle I couldn't figure out how to get out of. How did this happen?
Life drop kicked me and I hit rock bottom. My brother was dead. I was entirely alone in a state without any family in the middle of trying to deal with the grief of his death. Going home wasn't an option with all the trauma I am *still* dealing with.
I felt more alone than I had ever felt in my life, and believe me, that is saying something.
Somehow through it all, I still believed my life was magic. I'd witnessed amazing and unbelievable things happen to me and around me. Some were horrid and heart breaking, but some...some took my breath away in the most amazing ways. I have power. I've always had power. Power to change my surroundings. Power to change myself. I had a say in my life.
I want you to talk about yourself. I want you to tell other people how amazing you are when you forget. Tell them your accomplishments and tell them all the things you survived. Tell them your hopes and your dreams, and pay attention to how YOU feel when talking about yourself.
Forget for a moment that society tells us it's selfish to talk about ourselves. So often we forget how awesome we really are because we think that not being selfish overlaps with not celebrating ourselves. You don't need an occasion to celebrate yourself. You celebrate yourself every time you choose not to let someone walk over your boundaries. Every time you choose you, every time you make a decision that's true to YOU. Every little step in the direction of getting to who you are, you celebrate yourself.
When you celebrate yourself daily, I guess it becomes easy to not tolerate anything less than you deserve.
Sensory deprivation play is one of the best things I’ve ever experienced. Not just because it was extremely arousing, but also because it shut down several of my senses. With a blindfold and headphones, I only had my sense of touch and smell available.
I would later come to find that the best type of meditation for me is body scanning, which is what I did naturally during the play. I could feel my knees against the sheet, the cloth against my eyelashes, the air on my bare skin. When that connection was made between that firm hand and my backside, I felt it more than I’d ever felt anything.
It was delicious.
I suppose it’s not too surprising it was as beneficial as it was because my baths typically consist of closing my eyes with my ears under blistering water. I just hear *everything* all at once, feel everything all at once, and having a place to concentrate those feelings fits perfectly with sensory deprivation play.
It wasn’t until my journey into learning about myself that I considered my exceptional hearing may be because of my autism. I can hear a phone vibrating a floor up. I’ve invested in earplugs to help keep my concentration and keep myself regulated. With exceptional hearing comes exceptional overwhelm.
The 8 Senses & Processing
You may have noticed it says 8 senses. It’s not a typo. This includes the 5 readily known senses (sight, sound, smell, touch, taste) but also the vestibular, interoception, and proprioceptive senses. Balance, motor skills and body awareness.
In neurodivergent people, all 8 senses can be over or under-sensitive. Not all of us will be over or under-reactive in all the senses, and even then, how much sensitivity we feel will differ from one person to the next, from one situation to the next. Sometimes, it can be all the time, such as with my hearing.
Impact play can be excellent for maintaining a healthy state of mind. The thought of maintenance spanking has always interested me. Many people describe a level of calm afterward that I struggle to find daily. Plus, I like spankings. It’s a win-win.
Pain can be such a stress reliever. Not all autistic people like pain, and even then, the type of pain will vary. Getting bit will never feel good to me, but a slap on the face will get my full attention in all the right ways. In those trusted environments, we are given some control over the sensations we’re feeling, even if we don’t control when exactly we are feeling them.
I don’t know if it’s because I have such receptive senses, but subspace is easy for me to fall into when my Dom has a firm hand with me. When I get grabbed by the throat, it’s very clear what’s happening, where it’s happening. It’s an anchor. When my head gets yanked back by a hand in my hair, I know where to look. I can only look where I’m allowed. It’s peaceful.
Emotional Processing
Emotional processing helps us integrate our experiences into our everyday lives. A ton of people have issues with emotional processing, autistic or not. Your autistic partner will be no different in that category.
Emotional processing issues isn’t a lack of emotional intelligence or lack of empathy. It isn’t being emotionally immature. It *means* we don’t emotionally get hit with news or an event at that moment. It doesn’t happen all the time, but some common factors in creating processing issues are stress and overwhelm.
Emotional processing issues can be small things, but they can also be very large things. When one of my kid brothers passed away last year unexpectedly, I told my dad I was sorry for his loss. I felt the shock that everyone feels when they find out someone has died, of knowing that person is no longer there, but it didn’t occur to me yet that I had lost my brother.
I often don’t see how things will affect me right away, though I’m learning to be more conscious of it. I know from experience how similar things have affected me in the past and I can draw off the experience from that, and it speeds up the processing a bit, but new things create new feelings.
I cringe now when I think of all the times I’ve heard “Are you sure it’s fine? I feel like this will be a problem later.” Because it tracked. I did find myself upset or bringing up an event (good or bad) hours or even a day or so later. It feels better to know where this is coming from so I can be more conscious of it, too.
It can be really hard on relationships of any kind. It can be confusing because it doesn’t always happen, and we can’t always predict any difficulty coming. From my own experience and reading about processing differences, it seems that the more emotional an event is, the longer is will take us to process.
Having a partner with processing challenges of any kind can be exhausting for both people. Try to remember that your partner with Autism may need some more time or even some help managing their feelings. Allow them that space and time, don’t rush them, and try so very hard not to make them feel bad about it. This isn’t anyone’s fault, least of all theirs.
Self-Regulation & Soothing
Self-regulation is something that took me a long time to develop and I’m still figuring out what works best for me. It is dependent on being able to recognize emotions, something people with Autism can struggle with, especially those who are younger. Even as an adult with a healthy skill set, I can still find myself dysregulated all too easily.
The biggest difference with us is that so many simple settings can throw us into dysregulation (meltdowns and shutdowns, anxiety, anger, all of it is considered dysregulation). Self-soothing tools are critical here, but some awareness from those around us would go a long way, too. The way we each personally self-soothe is going to look different, but the number one thing I ask is that you just let us do what we do when we need to do it (assuming it isn’t causing harm).
This leads us to the next part: Stimming, and why it matters for your dynamic.
Today you ordered me to wear my vibrating egg, a gift from you at Christmas. This morning was the first time it had gotten use since being opened, and you'd brought me to the edge several times, but hadn't allowed me to finish. You told me I would have to wear it all day, and at some point, you would let me cum. It could be at any point during my day, and I could expect to be brought to the edge many more times. I didn't have to ask permission, but I wasn't allowed to give indication it was happening.
The earthy fragrance of ground coffee hit me as I pulled open one of the double doors to my frequently visited coffee shop. The baristas knew me by name here and had my regular order ready by the time I made it to the counter.
"You're a little late," she said with a smile as I slid my card through the machine. "I almost thought we wasted the bagel."
"It's been an interesting morning." I blushed furiously, feeling naughty with my secret.
I surveyed the café as I put cream and sugar in my coffee, seeing that my normal secluded table in the corner was already taken. I preferred to do my writing there, where I could block out the people coming and going. The shop was busier than normal, but the barista was right. I was a little late and hadn't beaten the breakfast crowd.
There were three tables left in the center of the crowded floor, so I chose the smaller one next to the half wall that would at least block the door and limit my distractions. Once my laptop, notebook, and music were set up, I went to work.
An hour into my normally two-hour café writing session, I'd forgotten about the vibe until it went off. It was quick, but full force, and made me jerk with surprise. My still engorged clit pulsed at the brief sensation, and I sucked in a breath. My eyes darted around to see if anyone had noticed my reaction, but only the man at the next table was looking at me.
I quickly adverted my gaze and grabbed the napkin to clean up the coffee that had sloshed over the rim of the mug when I'd bumped the table. When my eyes flicked back up to the man, he was still looking at me, a small smile pulling at his lips.
I had drawn attention, and that was explicitly against the rules. But I also hadn't thought you'd do it here, a place I came to every day. I thought you'd let me get through my work. You knew how important it was to me and how I hated wasting my writing time.
When it didn't happen again, I figured you'd done it by accident, maybe messing around on the app. I imagined the grin on your face when you'd realized you set it off but would be nice and be more careful. Yeah, that was like you.
You let twenty more minutes pass, long enough for me to focus on writing again, before I felt the pulse again. I didn't jump this time, though I froze, my hands hovering over the keyboard. The buzz went on twice as long as the first, stopped for a moment, before repeating that pattern three more times. I pressed my now clenched fists against my computer, trying to breathe through the sensations.
Bastard!
My clit continued to throb as I squirmed in my chair slightly. I'd been wound p already at the though of cumming in public, and my whole body begged for more of what you just gave me, even if half of me cared where it was happening.
My phone lit up on the table next to my laptop as your name popped up with a single command: write. My head snapped up, searching the room for you, but I saw no sign you were here.
I took another deep breath and shifted in my chair, once again meeting the eyes of the man at the next table. He smiled at me again, and I stiffened, dropping my gaze. Had he heard the buzzing? Had I made an indication of what was buried between my thighs? Did my expression mimic the brief pleasure I felt? Had—
The vibrator flared to life, full force, and I gripped the edge of the table with on hand and pulled my headphones out of my ears with the other. I listened for the buzz I knew was happening, could feel it in my chair. I couldn't hear it over the chatter of the shop, but as the intensity built, I became increasingly worried about the inaudible moans I made. I wasn't sure I could stop them or keep quiet.
My legs automatically spread as I tried to get the vibe closer to my clit, throwing the abandon I'd just felt to the wind as the pleasure overtook me. God, I was going to cum, here, now, with the man across the table still watching me.
My legs bucked against the bottom of the table, and I heard the noise, but could do little in the moment as the orgasm hit me fully. I shoved my fist against my mouth as I moaned, shutting my eyes tightly, and riding the waves as they washed over me. My toes curled inside my sneakers as stars exploded behind my eyelids.
As if you knew when the orgasm finally calmed, the vibe turned off, but my body still took its sweet time returning to reality. When my eyes focused finally, the man staring at me grinned with a knowing smile.
Horrified, I clumsily gathered my stuff, and rushed out the door on weak legs. My juices dripped down my inner thighs as I hurried away from the building, unsure which way I was even heading. As I gained distance from the café, a grin slowly spread over my face after what had just happened.
I'd have to find another coffee shop.
I wasn't sure what you had planned, but I was wet before you led me into your bedroom, the anticipation making me hyper aroused. After weeks of careful planning, drawing and redrawing the contract, it was finally time. You said you would take into consideration all of what was in the contract but didn't tell me exactly what to expect tonight.
Your orders were clear. Be undressed before you returned to the bedroom, kneel on the floor, and keep my hands behind my back. I was not to hesitate to follow any directions you gave tonight, or there would be consequences.
Punishment wasn't supposed to be enjoyed, yet the mere thought of it, and everything else I'd agreed to, made me achingly wet.
You take forever coming back into your bedroom, and it gives me time to glance around, but I don't move from my position in case you come in. It isn't a large room, but the bed is at least a queen, with metal posts. A medium box lay on the bed, but I don't dare move from my position to look inside, however much I wanted to.
Finally, the door opened behind me, then the soft click as you shut it after you. I kept my head facing forward as you'd commanded, though tried to see if I could spot you out my peripherals. No luck, but I could hear your bare feet on the floor as you approached me. Without warning, darkness encased me as a piece of fabric was placed over my eyes.
I jumped at the suddenness of it, my hands automatically going to the sides of my head, where I could feel elastic bands. Your hand gripped my hair tightly, and I knew it was because I'd moved. Though tight your grip was, your tone was soft as you say, "Relax."
I breathed in deeply, counting to five in my head. After you were sure I was fine, you pulled me upward, using my hair to guide me to my feet. I hesitated when you pull me forward because I'm unable to see, but you tisk softly.
"One," you say, urging me forward again. Chills spread through me at the number because it was a promise of punishment. Not wanting another point, however much the threat made me tingle, I took an unsure step forward, then another.
"Good girl," you say, "The bed is just before you. Bend over it."
I stick a foot forward, trying to feel for it, and just as my shin makes painful contact, you say, "Two."
I hold in the slight moan, and use the placement I found, and your hand in my har, to guide me over the edge of the bed. I fight the urge to use my hands to help, knowing it will result in a third point. You don't let me fall, but rather I meet the bed with softness. Your hand releases my hair as I breathe in the newly washed sheets beneath my face. You move away for just a moment before you're back. Your hand grasps my wrist as you tie them together behind my back.
My pussy is throbbing at the implications of having my hands bound and the vulnerable position you place me in. I jerk at the sensation of your hand against my back as you run your fingers down my spine. You hand continues down, over my ass, and I stiffen, becoming aware I had two points that you could act on right now. Your hand kneads my ass as I prepare for the sharp sting of your hand.
Instead, your hand continues down.
You avoid my pulsing clit entirely, though do chuckle at the wetness dripping down my inner thighs. I push my ass toward you with a whimper, hoping you'll touch me where I want to be touched. You don't, and continue down further, on the inside of my thighs, down to my knee, until you grasp my ankle.
"Spread your legs for me," you order softly, and I comply, my pussy jumping at the command. I hold in the moan at your tone and do as I'm told. "Good girl," you say.
Good enough to get your hand back on my pussy, I think with hope, but feel you attach something to my ankle. You reposition my legs wider as you attach something to the other. I test the restraints, finding I can't move my legs closer or further. I'm stuck as I am, spread open for you.
Once again you move away but aren't gone long. You place headphones over my ears and pull one away to speak to me.
"Comfortable?" you ask.
"Yes," I say.
"Three."
"Yes, sir," I add quickly, but it's too late. I've already acquired the point.
You replace the headphone, effectively cutting off my auditory and visual senses. I tense, waiting for whatever is about to happen, but as seconds tick by, nothing does.
I'm not sure how much time passes, but it can't be very long. The anticipation is killing me, so when I finally feel you again, spreading my cheeks, I moan. You work a small butt plug inside me, fucking me with it as you do. I feel myself gasp as the sensations of it. I've never had one before, so this one is small, but fills me as you move it in and out.
I wiggle my ass when you leave it in me, and you hand pushes down on the small of my back, letting me know to stop moving.
Crack.
Pain blossoms across my ass cheek, and I suck in a breath, feeling something between pain and pleasure. Your hand sooths the tender flesh for a moment.
Crack.
This time it's harder, on the other cheek, and my eyes water as I try to jerk away from you. My bound legs don't let me move, and without my hands, I'm useless. You hand repeats the same soothing motion.
Crack.
I feel myself cry out with the third, the hardest yet, though my pussy is pulsating. Whatever you use to punish me doesn't feel like your hand. It's too cold, too flat. Plastic maybe? Whatever it is, I've immediately formed a love-hate relationship with it.
I barely process the pleasure-pain as you sooth me again, before I feel your other hand separating my pussy lips and your tongue on my clit. I almost cum right there, but your tongue is moving off my clit and to my hole. I push back against you as you dip your tongue in me, desperate to get you back on my clit, but moaning all the same.
You bring me to the edge, but then stop abruptly. I whimper, wiggling my hips, but your hand is then in my hair again, guiding me to stand. You press me against you when I'm upright, letting me know that you're still full dressed, but your cock is hard.
I try to reach between us to get my hands on you, but I can't. Your free hand moved around to my breast, kneading it before softening your touch. You give the same treatment to my other, but entirely avoid my aching nipples.
"Please, sir," I say, unable to help myself. I feel you chuckle against my back as your fingers lightly brush over one of nipples, making me arch my back with a gasp. You brush over the other before rolling the peak between your fingers, pinching hard after a moment and nearly causing me to cum again.
I wiggle my ass, grinding against your cock as you play with me. I know I'm moaning but can't stop myself. My pussy is dripping, empty, and I just want you inside me. "Please," I beg, "Give me your cock."
You hand lets go of my hair only to settle firmly around my throat as you other gives the same rough treatment to my other nipple. It lasts only a moment before your fingers are brushing over my stomach, down past my mound, and then inside me.
It's just a single finger at first, feelings how wet I am. Then two, and you're so slow as you guide them in and out, your thumb brushing my clit softly with each entrance. I'm on the edge, but at this pace, it's just not enough.
I could cry when you stop, but your fingers remain inside me. I'm not exactly sure what you want me to do, but desperate to cum, I begin to ride your fingers. "Please, sir, can I cum?"
I can't hear your answer, but it doesn't matter, because I'm cumming on your hand. The orgasm rips through me and I can see stars behind my eyelids. I feel myself going forward, guided by you, but it isn't until your cock is inside me that I realize you've pushed me over the bed again.
You thrust and pull back quickly, your hands gripping my hips before your weight settles on me, and your hand is pushing my head into the mattress. There is nothing tender about the way you fuck me, the way you use me. The penetration from the plug and your cock overwhelms my senses as another orgasm builds.
From this angle, you hit my g-spot with each stroke until I cum again. This time fluid gushes from my cunt as your thrusts become sporadic. Your hand gathers my hair as you push forward a few more times, and then pull back, cumming on my still tender ass.
After a few seconds, your hand softly brushes my hair, and then you slip the blind fold off my eyes. I blink at the sudden light, trying to focus my eyes and then I can see what you've spanked me with.
"A hairbrush?" I ask, and your laugh rumbles against my back.
"On your knees," you say, and your tone automatically incites butterflies in my stomach, half from excitement, half from anxiety.
I search around nervously as I do what I'm told, looking for other people in proximity. We are alone on the trail, but that could change any minute. The weekday visit to the nature Reserve help in that most people are at work, but I'd said hello to several other hikers before we'd come to the current secluded spot. Secluded, but public.
At least the spot you stopped us at was soft against my knees and there weren't tiny pebbles digging into my skin.
I eye the bulge in your shorts, my attention half on it, and half listening for the snapping of twigs that would alert me to anyone else coming. We were hidden by the bend of the trail, but anyone turning the corner would get a surprise.
"Better hurry," you say in amusement, but the expression on your face makes me think twice about the smart comment about to roll off my lips. I settle for a halfhearted irritated noise as I pull you free and take in the sight for a moment, licking my lips. You let me linger inches from you as your cock twitches from just my visual attention.
I lean forward and run my tongue over your head. Your hand finds my hair and you bury your fingers through it softly as I trail my tongue just over your tip, then down to the base, then back up again, creating a glistening sheen of salvia over your cock, and never taking you in my mouth. I tease you, letting my teeth just barely scrape over your head, causing you to start.
You make a small sound as I take just your head in my mouth and suck gently. You push your hips forward, trying to go deeper, but I put my hand on your hip to brace myself and stop you. My free hand finds your balls as I take just another few centimeters of you in my mouth. I pull my head back, letting you slide out of my mouth, my teeth barely grazing you again.
Your hand tightens a little in my hair, but you show no sign of frustration.
Yet.
Because that's what I'm aiming for, half out of fun, half out of pay back for making me do this so in the open. For now, you just let me play.
There is wetness between my thighs, but I resist the ever growing need to touch my throbbing clit, wanting to focus entirely on you. My nipples beg for attention, but I ignore them too as I take one of your balls into my mouth gently, swirling my tongue over it and then giving the other the same treatment.
I freeze when I hear a distant voice, but your hand in my hair ensures that I can't pull away. I make a small sound of panic, but your other hand is reaching down. You sharply roll one of my nipples between your fingers as a warning, making me gasp and jump slightly.
I wrap my hand around the base of your cock lightly as I continue using my mouth and tongue on your balls and slide my hand over the length of you, twisting my wrist as I do. I moan as you jerk forward into my hand, wanting more friction, more wetness, more warmth. I tighten my grip around you with each involuntary thrust, then release to barely anything.
Your breath is getting heavy and you thrust forward again. "Mouth, now," you order.
I happily oblige, pressing your tip to my lips for a moment before I look up at you. Once my eyes meet yours, I take the length of you in my mouth, and clamp my lips tightly around you as I suck, rolling my tongue over you. I flatten my tongue as I slowly work my way back to the tip of your cock, before taking you back in.
I'm frustrating myself, now, too, with this slow speed. I like how your cock jumps in my mouth, the way your precum tastes, and the sounds you're making. I want more, to please you, to feel you, and want it now. This time, when I think I hear the crunch of twigs, I pay no mind.
Your hand tightens in my hair, and you angle my head to make me look at you. And I think then, with a small moan, that play time is over for me.
"Open."
I open my mouth wide, but there is little time to prepare me for you. You're inside my mouth, filling me, the tip of you hitting the back of my throat, pushing past. I gag reflexively, but swallow to let you slide in.
"Good girl," you say as you force my head closer to you. I lick whatever part I can as you thrust in and out of my mouth, loving the way you're breathing and the sounds you're making.
You use my hair to guide me forward and back, meeting you with each thrust, moans and encouragement filling the air between my gasps. Your cock slips past the back of my throat with each thrust, and I can barely close my lips before you're pulling back and then going forward again.
I'm moaning, too. I want you to cum in my mouth. I want to taste you and swallow every drop you give me. I don't care I'm getting messy, that spit is dripping from my mouth, or that my eyes are watering. I'm lost in bliss filled enthusiasm as you fuck my face.
God, the sounds. I love the satisfaction of knowing how much pleasure you're getting from me.
Your thrusts get sporadic. The look in your eyes, and the way your hard cock moves in my mouth, against my tongue, tells me you're close.
Then, I feel the warmth of your cum hitting my throat. I swallow as much as I can, but you're filling my mouth, and I feel it running down my chin.
Your grasp on my hair softens, and you smile at me. "Good girl."
I clean both of us up, not missing a drop, and rise to my feet as you tuck yourself away. A moment later, branches snap beneath feet as people appear.
Reminder: Autism traits will look different depending on gender, age, and cognitive abilities. The following refers to having level 1 autism (also known as high-functioning or Aspergers to some). This is my take, from an autistic woman’s perspective, using my own experience and materials I’ve read.
Sometimes, I get dizzy in stores. The lights get brighter, and I get tunnel vision. I see what’s in front of me but there seems to be too much to focus on. I may hear people talking around me, but I can’t quite make out their words with the sounds of carts rolling, the beeping over the intercom, music cutting in and out from the speakers above. Everything is just so damn shiny and feels weird and I can’t think. I am truly frozen, for no reason at all.
It wasn’t until recently I realized when this happens when I am on the path to a meltdown. As an adult with coping skills, a long with my growth mindset, I pride myself on being able to recognize when this is happening now. It takes time to see our patterns and recognize behavior for what they are (root causes).
Learning how to manage and sometimes even prevent meltdowns and shutdowns takes a lot of inner work. It takes a lot of learning and practice, and patience with ourselves. I may never be able to completely stop them because they come from those processing delays. Before you picture me rolling around on the ground flailing around, let’s talk about what meltdowns and shutdowns are.
Meltdowns
When you think of meltdowns, you probably don’t think that well-functioning, successful adults have them. You think of tantrums for not getting their own way and manipulation, and negative behavior. You sure as hell don’t want a Dom or sub who displays this type of behavior. That’s not what true autistic meltdowns or shutdowns are, but they can happen to the best of us and can be difficult, so they are important to know about. Plus, we assume you care enough about us to want to know how we live. (If not...this isn't for you lol). Neither are displays of childish or attention-seeking behavior. Let me repeat that: Neither are displays of childish or attention-seeking behavior.
Both are intense responses to an overwhelming situation. It is an involuntary reaction due to sensory processing issues. Neither happens all of the time, but any meltdown or shutdown is a stressful experience for everyone involved. The triggers are, but are not limited to, social situations, large decisions, sleep deprivation, large cognitive processes (especially more than one at a time, which is often what life is like), and a build-up of stress over days, weeks, or months.
Meltdowns look different from person to person, and each situation seems to vary in intensity. Some people, regardless of cognitive ability, experience them more often than others. They can often be caused by anxiety or fear and our flight/fight/freeze response kicking in.
MRI brain scans (nerdy me is showing) show that in Neurotypical brains, the prefrontal cortex (the part of our brain that regulates emotions) lights up when having an emotional reaction or processing an emotional response. In autistic people, our prefrontal cortex lights up…less. Meaning, it should be coming online in a greater capacity when we need it to, but it doesn’t always.
Some personal examples of what they look like for me: Panic attacks, the feeling that I want to crawl out of my skin, feeling irritated or frustrated intensely, or crying hysterically without being able to stop.
They aren’t fun. We don’t want to have them. They are exhausting and sometimes leave us feeling ashamed for feeling what we do. Yes, it is up to us personally to each figure out coping strategies and what works for us, but let’s be realistic. Life is unpredictable and bad shit happens, so we’ll never entirely have control enough to prevent them 100%. No person alive can control every situation.
Shutdowns
Shutdowns are different than meltdowns, a bit more alarming, and often considered a “freeze” response. In my experience, both are often a build-up until a limit is reached. That limit varies like everyone else's depending on what’s happening in that moment, what the day has been like, and just our current mindsets at that moment.
It’s important to note that both shutdowns and meltdowns can happen in one instance, and it’s common for a shutdown to follow an intense meltdown.
The length of shutdown varies widely. I read an analogy where it referred to shutdown as an overheated computer that just shuts down. I agree somewhat, but I want to add that it does shutdown, but then it restarts and just sits there, silently, sometimes showing a progress bar, sometimes just blank.
Shutdowns can look like a temporary loss of skill, too. That sounds pretty intense, and I can assure you it feels pretty intense. To just completely forget how to do something and you can’t remember it no matter how hard you try. I have gone from analyzing research studies to being unable to pronounce words accurately at all in a single day because of something--usually stressful--that happened and caused processing delays. They are temporary, though, a typical shutdown episode, meaning so is the loss of skills. We don’t have to relearn them. We just get ourselves back after we’ve regulated.
It’s incredibly frustrating being unable to speak, sometimes daily. Shutdowns can lead to selective mutism, which isn’t someone giving you the intentional silent treatment. I can’t tell you how many times in the past I needed to have serious conversations but the moment overwhelmed me so badly that I couldn’t say anything even though I wanted to, for often an extended period of time. A lot of times it was face-to-face interactions and I just lost the ability to speak.
How to support your autistic partner
It’s incredibly important to discuss with your partner how they would like you to support them while they are calm. Trying to ask them in the middle of a panic attack what you can do won’t be helpful. They likely won’t know and having a conversation with them at that moment will make things worse.
Example: I promise when I’m having a meltdown, I do not, under any circumstances, want to be around people. I do not want to be touched or talked to. I do not want any more stimulation than what is already happening because what is already happening is too much. I need some varying amount of alone time to regulate myself. Alone time can be difficult for long periods as a single mother, so I know the next best thing is to limit my surroundings. If I’m spending time with my child, there aren’t a million other things going on, to the best of my control.
It’s hard to give advice other than talk to your partner about this one because we’re all so different and need different things depending on the situation. Support your partner as they figure out their triggers or what they need, their journey in therapy, pushing them when applicable, and comforting them when needed. It’s up to them to make sure they are happy and healthy, but a support system is a necessity for true wellness.
Having a healthy dynamic despite shutdowns or meltdowns
BDSM has been shown to decrease anxiety in people, and not just because of its sexual nature. BDSM isn’t all about sex. We all also personally know that orgasms decrease stress and anxiety, but the other aspects of the lifestyle can help so much in daily life. Studies show participating in BDSM increases wellness, helps us live in the moment, and again, reduces anxiety and stress overall.
Self-regulation is the key to getting back to self and managing stress better. You can read and try different self-soothing techniques by yourself/with a loved one, or you can seek out the help of a trained professional. It’s important to practice the techniques when you’re calm and practice them often, especially honing in on them when you begin to feel stressed. Practice will make them a habit, and you adjust according to your specific needs. Learning how to self-regulate and self-soothe is game-changing.
I found it helpful to start a log of perceived triggers and self-regulation techniques I was trying. I can also say CBT was/is extremely helpful. There are worksheets that can guide you through processes and understanding yourself, but I do really recommend a trained professional, for the times you feel like you’re going crazy and they can point out it’s a totally natural feeling (because a majority feel it).
You want to support your partner while they work to be their best and healthiest selves. Your partner is capable of being everything you ever dreamed of and more even if he or she is autistic. You may find yourself admiring them because of their autistic traits, (aka just known as part of who we are, like my ability to connect dots in ways others can’t or more quickly).
Life changes can make us more vulnerable to meltdowns/shutdowns, so it’s important we’re taking extra good care of ourselves during these times. For me, especially during those times, having someone who is so intertwined with me mentally, a Dom who is intelligent and emotionally aware, who has worked hard with me to create a safe space for us both in our dynamic, makes that extra stress of having extreme reactions easier to bear. We’re all just better with help than doing it alone, in general, in life.
BDSM helps me manage the stress in a way that really works for me, and that is a very, very, very large reason why I could never do a vanilla relationship again. I need the calmness a D/s relationship provides me at the end of the day to rely on. To maintain a basic level of calmness. Even if I’m not in a dynamic, I know I’m going to fall in love again one day, and I know this has to be a large part of it.
My shutdowns don’t happen as often anymore, not since all the work I’ve done in therapy. I can manage my potential meltdowns with calm experience, sometimes stopping them before they’ve really started. I can spot triggers more easily, though I’m still taken off guard by small things that do a large number on me. I’m still learning to tell the signs of an impending stress-related shutdown, but I know irritability is a big sign for me. I’ve learned to limit what’s coming at me and ask for help when needed.
I have always liked the idea of a contract, though I haven't had one yet. I like the idea of stated rules, which BDSM has plenty of. I like terms and definitions. I like community for when I need to ask more questions without feeling judged. I always have more questions, just wait for it. There is a structure to a BDSM dynamic that just makes me…nestle into it. Or at least, the thought of it.
I like being told what to do. It takes the guesswork out of it for me, and just allows me to experience the moment. I don’t use elaborate safe words. Red works for me. Short, simple, immediate. I will tell you if I don’t like something. Also, immediately.
A common misconception is that because autistic people struggle with socializing, we can’t communicate effectively. Which, if you’re here reading this and don’t know much about autism, it means you’re probably grimacing at that thought or thinking red flag. Let me assure you, due to the very fact you are reading this, that we can communicate. Communication is an acquired skill for anyone, and we can be good at it, just like anyone else.
Being the one to initiate a conversation can be incredibly difficult, if not impossible, for some of us. It’s not that we’re just afraid of it. We have had so many bad experiences with socialization that the mere thought of being the first person to start a convo can make us back off. Socialization can be a straight minefield for us…because processing lags and missed social cues. We tend to miss non-verbal cues, like what facial expressions or body language is telling us. We tend to have trouble reading between the lines and need things to be laid out in a straightforward way for our best comprehension.
If there is one thing about autism I want you to know, from me, about me, personally, is that sometimes it takes me a moment to process events, but that does not at all mean I’m incompetent. I am a damn loving person and good sub, and I deserve patience. I have found that these behavioral patterns of mine flair during specific times, almost as if the behaviors are symptoms.
I know some people really hate to describe what they go through as “symptoms”, but it helps me be able to contextualize things and make them more manageable. (My therapist calls these behaviors ‘manager me’ lol)
I personally love texting and talking to people online. In person, I’m expected to carry on the conversation without missing a beat. Sometimes I can do that. Sometimes I’m in the right mind space and I don’t have anything tripping me up when I’m trying to communicate. Or, when I just feel confident with all my quirks.
But when I’m overwhelmed? Processing slows wayyyy down, and it’s exhausting.
Let’s take last week for example. Last week happened in a blur. I was dysregulated more than not most of the week. While I am insanely proud of myself for finishing my degree, last week was finals. Last week was my last week for my BA. I had A. All the work that was due, and B. I completed college and the feels that came with that!
I also had three life decisions to make last week. Decisions that were triggering and difficult to work through, all while still being a single mom working full time and going to school full time. And despite some of the outcomes with individuals, I’m really freaking proud of myself for getting through all of it. Ten years ago I wouldn’t have known what to do to keep going. I would have just been in the fetal position in bed under my covers.
Being overwhelmed or overstimulated or both at the same time can make talking (or breathing!) impossible for me. I just need some time to regulate myself (time can vary depending on the situation). I’m going to do my very best to communicate clearly with you, but if you expect me to have perfect communication with you all the time, if you can’t understand my brain does not work like yours, then it isn’t a healthy relationship for me. I am not helpless, and I can be held accountable, but I can’t fit in your box. I never will.
That’s okay with me, I’m done trying to. I can’t look at every misunderstanding as a failure because that’s unfair to me and everyone like me.
We may also find that we have a really hard time looking at things from the perspective of others. Things are usually viewed through our own lenses, as putting ourselves in the shoes of another is also an acquired skill for us (as it is most people) and for some of us, it can be hard to master. Abstract concepts can take us a moment to understand and process, and I’ve been known to ask someone to rephrase themselves because the context of their words just doesn’t make sense to me.
I cannot state enough that we operate as our best selves under complete transparency and straightforwardness. The more direct, the better. A lot of us have a ton of difficulty trying to figure out motivations. We aren't naive. We REALLY have difficulty comprehending the motivations of others. This can lead to a lot of misunderstandings, and it can be very disheartening and detrimental to our social lives. Or even attempting to have one. More about connection in another part, though.
I like to plan as much as I can (though with the right mindset and partner, I can do spontaneous) and if that means rehearsing a conversation before I have it, I will hyper-focusing on it for three hours to get it just right and think of every possible thing the other person can say to me and plan how I’ll react in each of those scenarios and try to think how to react if other people were around, too, and what’s acceptable and what’s the right level of reaction and…
It is exhausting.
I don’t want to do that constantly in my dynamic. Power exchange is freedom to me, because it provides a structured relationship where I know what to expect, and I don’t have to mask. I can just be me. I’m encouraged to be me. It’s a red flag if I’m not me.
There is nothing more freeing for me than being intimate with my partner and them taking control. For a little while, I can let go of the need to figure out what to do with myself. It can just be quiet in my mind instead of the constant running monologue I have going on.
Usually about the very same topics you’re tired of hearing of (because hyper focus).
I also gravitate toward BDSM simply because it’s fun and it turns me on, same as the next kinkster. I have found that it helps me be the best version of myself for everyone I know, including myself. I have also found that I will never be able to do a vanilla relationship again…which is okay with me.
I've learned to communicate my needs and wants and feelings because of therapy and... BDSM. And for someone who NEEDS examples when trying to understand concepts, BDSM certainly and thankfully supplies a ton of definitions and examples for my sense of security.
Intro:
There are two different types of Autism. Autism with a learning disability, and autism without a learning disability. The following parts are based on similarities within the lives of those of us with autism but without a learning disability. While it looks different for all of us, because we are all unique, I wanted to share my own experiences with autism and BDSM with the purpose of bringing awareness to the autistic people within the community. There are more of us than we even realize.
I hope to give people insight if they are curious enough for it, in (hopefully) bite-sized chunks. Writing is sort of my thing, though, and I’m passionate about this subject, but I’ll try very hard to maintain your attention with smallish parts. Unless you want more. I’ve got autism and I’ve hyper-focused on psychology and…well, that’s a whole other monster 😊
I often get the “I wouldn’t have even thought you were autistic” comments, and I want to change what autism looks like to the average person (including anyone struggling with their diagnosis). So, here is me: I am a sub. I have grown within the community for the last 11 years, but I’ve known since a young teenager I was just a little different than other girls my age. I struggle with CPTSD, which will be woven throughout the series a little, but I plan to do another series about CPTSD and BDSM to create more awareness about it. Because, again, there are more of us than even we realize.
Today, the day I decided to write this series, is my last day in college classes before I graduate with my BA in Psychology (with a focus on mental health). I wasn’t diagnosed with Autism until I was 32, as it isn’t uncommon for females to be missed. It presents differently in different genders AND different people.
I’m also a single mom of an autistic little boy. I work full-time in a job that I love and make good money and that has opportunities for growth. I have goals, BIG goals. Publishing novels is one of them. Being a researcher in psychology. Helping people heal from childhood trauma. Healing generational trauma in societies. I have autism, but I can accomplish every single one of my goals, stated or otherwise.
Basically, we get all A’s in the same classes as you, too.
I have friends. I have always gotten along with everyone well. I’m considerate of others and I can empathize with them. I’m not emotionally stunted from autism. I’m also human with very human flaws. I make mistakes, but it’s certain they are always with the best intentions. I can take responsibility for myself and my behavior, and autism isn’t an excuse for a chronic crappy attitude or mistreating others.
So…I appear “normal”. I look it. I act like it (as much as I can). I’m intelligent, competent, nice...but I struggle to maintain eye contact with you even though I want to. Friendship only goes so deep with 99.9 percent of my friends, because I struggle to stop masking long enough to let you know me. I’m getting better at that, just being me. I’m incredibly hypersensitive to sounds, touch, and lights. I am known at work for my use of detail, same for the editing phase of my writing. I hyper-fixate on certain topics and it can be hard to get my brain to focus on anything else. Below you can find some other common traits that occur with Autism.
· Difficulty with the back-and-forth exchange of conversation
· Difficulty with nonverbal conversation skills
· clumsiness
· Anxiety and depression
· Difficulty with social interactions
· Restricted interests
· Desire for sameness
· Distinctive strengths
· Remarkable focus and persistence
· Aptitude for recognizing patterns
Understanding Autism & my journey within BDSM so far.
I usually don't like surprises. I like everything to be clear, planned, and expected. I want to know every little detail about everything so I can be sure I am ready, to be sure I know how I'm going to react. Ready for social engagement, ready on a mental level, just ready in general, you know?
You also know life doesn't work like that. I can control what I can control, but I can't prepare for absolutely everything, as much as I'd like to. When life hits me...it really does a number. I don't think that's really surprising, though. Being overwhelmed by life is a universal experience. We can all relate to that, regardless of whether you're neurodiverse or neurotypical.
But I'm not neurotypical. I have spent my whole life trying to hone skills to make up for what my brain can't understand. Autistic people sometimes have a really hard time putting themselves in the shoes of others. Even the phrase "in the shoes of others" makes me visually see myself LITERALLY putting on someone else's shoes instead of the concept of trying to understand how someone else feels. I hate the fact that I have CPTSD and childhood trauma because it obviously sucks, but I've considered more than once how it helped me find ways around "limitations" I'd otherwise face, or balanced out weaknesses I had. Especially once I began addressing that trauma and SAW the ways I could utilize how the trauma helped shape my brain. How I could utilize the strengths I'd developed because of it, while simultaneously getting rid of unwanted behavioral patterns. Also, my autism plays a huge part in my obsession with psychology (in that I hyper-focus on it, and in turn, hyper-focus on my healing).
My need to control everything, with the main goal of controlling how *I* react, is to ease some of the anxiety and difficulties I have with social situations. Literally, if I am not alone, it's considered a social situation to me. And I MUST prepare for it. You can imagine the internal arguments I have with myself at the beginning of any D/s relationship. I *crave* submitting. It brings me a peace that takes soooo much effort to obtain in other situations. The eventual structure and trust that's part of a healthy dynamic is something that I thrive on. For autistic people, routine is huge. It is for me. Like most people, some days I handle disruptions better than other days. Unlike neurotypical people, disruptions in my routine can lead to meltdowns. On the days I have a really hard time handling the disruptions, meltdowns are a flight/fight reaction. My reaction is one of flight, fawning, or freezing. Sometimes all three on really fun days. But it takes a lot of unseen work on my part to build relationships of any type, and maintaining those relationships can be just as difficult.
You can imagine what it must be like for me to have a partner who is transparent, understanding of this, and thrives on routine himself. I like rules, and most Doms like giving rules, even for just the fun of it. I like knowing what's coming. Knowing if I behave a certain way, there will be a certain outcome. It makes me feel SO safe and secure. It lets me be myself without fear of judgment. I can be open, communicative, and unafraid. I don't have to worry if I have the mental space to have strong social skills today. I KNOW what happens. I know the outcomes.
So, that leads to part one of the series.
Communication.