Chynna T. Laird - Im Not Weird, I Have Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD): Alexandras Journey

To: Jaimie my miracle girl

When I was born, I loved everything around me. I liked looking at my Mama and Daddy, I liked hearing their voices, and I loved feeling their arms around me when I needed a cuddle.

But things changed as I grew. Things got scary. So scary, I screamed. It frustrated me because nobody else seemed to feel the scary things I did and it made me mad.

Noises, even whispers, hurt my ears. This made Daddy sad because his voice hurt my ears a lot and I wouldnt let him talk to me. When things got too loud, I covered my ears and screamed until the noises stopped.

Smells bothered my nose and sometimes made me sick. I smelled things differently than other people did and I also smelled things no one else could. I tried covering my nose but that never worked very well. So I screamed to make the smells go away.

Sometimes when things didnt smell good to me, I wouldnt eat. I thought the yucky smells in my nose were what Mama put on my plate. I tried eating the food anyway but if it didnt feel good on my tongue, I got sick. Mama and Daddy couldnt understand why the food I used to eat starting upsetting me so much.

The lights in stores or in other peoples houses hurt my eyes. My eyes hurt even more when I went outside on a bright, sunny day. I covered my eyes to block out the brightness and screamed to make the pain stop.

I especially didnt like how things felt on my skin. When the wind blew on my arms and legs, it felt like thousands of creepy caterpillars crawling on me that I couldnt get off. The tags in my clothes tickled me and made me mad so I got Mama to cut all the tags out of my clothes. Sometimes Mama got frustrated with me because I tried on lots of different clothes until something felt just right.

I didnt like the feeling of lots of things and it could be hard getting ready some days. Brushing my teeth made me gag; brushing my hair hurt so bad, I cried or hid from Mama; bath time was scary because the water tickled my skin and if it was too hot or cold, it hurt me; and I hated my winter clothes.

Everything had to be the same. I liked my bed and bedroom to be the same way. I liked knowing what we were going to do because when things changed, it was too confusing for me. When things were the same, I felt safe. When things were different or changed or there were too many things to remember, I got scared and cried.

Touch scared me a lot. I didnt like people touching me and I didnt know how to tell people their fingers felt like fire on my skin. Mama and Daddy wanted to hug me but I couldnt let them.

I fell down a lot too. My arms, legs, hands and feet didnt always listen to what my head told them to do. Sometimes when I tried doing stuff, my body got all tangled up and I ended up crashing down on the ground. It didnt always hurt, though.

At the park, I didnt like playing the same games the other kids played. They liked climbing high or sliding or going down the poles or swinging and it made my tummy jump doing that stuff. One time, I climbed the ladders but couldnt remember how to get back down. Then I was too scared to climb anymore or even let someone lift me up.

I didnt know how to tell people I didnt like their voices; or the way they smelled when they got too close; or the way their faces moved or looked when they talked to me. I didnt know how to tell people I liked them but they scared me.

So I screamed. I screamed long and loud to block out the things that nobody else saw, heard or smelled but me. I even tried hitting my head, scratching my arms, or biting myself to make it all stopbut it never worked.

Sometimes I spun around and around until everything looked blurry and wobbly. Or I squeezed myself into tight places, like between the wall and the couch or the snuggly place in my closet or in the stuffy toy box. I never got dizzy when I spun and my body felt safer when I squeezed it. I just didnt know how to tell Mama or Daddy or anyone else that those things made me feel better.

Because I couldnt tell people what was happening to me, or what I wanted to feel better, they thought I was weird especially other children. And some of them even made fun of me. I wanted to explain to them so they understood me but I didnt know how.

Mama and Daddy finally asked a visitor to come and help us. Her name was Donna and Mama called her an Occupational Therapist. Donna told Mama I had Sensory Processing Disorder. She said it was a mouthful so we could call it SPD for short.

Donna said the reason I got upset all the time was because my brain didnt process things the same way everyones brain did. She said when I smelled something or felt someone touch me, my brain got the message but it didnt understand how to read it. My brain jumbled up the messages it received and got confused. And when it got confused it got scared and