I know it's been a little while since I've posted, and I've been enjoying my winter break from grad school (read: I've only had two jobs, wedding planning, and apartment hunting as opposed to all of the above plus classes and homework). It's only going to get more chaotic as March approaches and I'll need to pack and move. God bless my sensory brush, and sorry for perpetually being MIA.
My awesome OT sent me this video of a woman about my age with SPD. I don't know her, but she could be me based on how she describes restaurants, sensitivity to light, love of earplugs, and multiple blankets. Watch this when you have the chance.
My SPD has been about the same lately, which is improved. I don't cry much anymore, which is amazing, given it was something I did multiple times a day prior to starting treatment. I'm still doing my moro exercises, but have decided to take a pause on the listening program for now. Last time I gave it a whirl, the bone conduction bit made me feel so awful, that I'm almost afraid to try it again.
In good news, I attended a workshop at a famous institute for my favorite school of therapy last week. I was crawling out of my skin prior to the experience - unfamiliar with the space, unsure of the number of attendees, and worried about lighting and sound, I went to this institute prepared to bolt the moment something wasn't to my particular SPD liking. When I got there, I saw a sign saying they were going to be filming the entire experience as well, which made me even more apprehensive (hard to run for the door when cameras are capturing the workshop). Despite a squeaky and malfunctioning microphone (my moro exercises seem to be helping my usual nauseated and rattled reaction to surprise), the room was comfortably lit (no sunglasses needed), and there were no more then 15 attendees. I even got up the nads to stay after the workshop to chat with the two presenters, essentially my heroes in the field.
My SPD may stand in the way of the things I want to do, but as always, I buck up, shove it aside, and continue along - perhaps a bit more worn out than others, but successful eventually, nonetheless.