A sensory health approach with neurodiverse adults

The bed clings to Sierra (name changed for privacy) as she tries to summon motivation for the day. Her head feels heavy. Her coffee—that will wake her up. She’s sipping the too-hot coffee when her husband returns from a run, the door slamming behind him. She startles, spilling the coffee on the floor. Embarrassment floods her body. She bends to clean up the mess and cringes at the jagged feeling of jeans on her skin. Her husband turns on the kitchen lights to help her see, but now she can only squint through squeezed eyelids. She acknowledges his efforts to help with a nod. Her heart rate picks up. I need some air, she thinks. She mechanically walks to the mailbox while the neighbor’s dogs yap uncontrollably. As she reaches into the mailbox, a garbage truck thunders past her. She jumps back and yells. Thinking OK, that’s it, she runs back indoors, chased by disapproving barks. Her husband has the TV on loudly in the living room and she can’t remember the next thing she was supposed to do. She puts her head in her hands, feeling a migraine surfacing. She feels that it is too much for one morning. Back to bed it is, she thinks.