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Sensory Overload & Misophonia

Sensory overload happens when the environment — noise, lights, textures — becomes too much for the brain to process at once. The underlying issue is filtering: input that most brains automatically tune out keeps coming through at full strength, until it tips over into “too much.”

You’re in a grocery store with bright lights and a kid screaming, and you suddenly feel like you’re going to explode unless you leave immediately.

The sound of someone chewing gum or a clock ticking makes you feel a genuine urge to scream or leave the room.

Tap any to expand.

Sensory overload

When sights, sounds, and textures stack up faster than the brain can process them, producing a sudden, urgent need to escape the environment. It’s not impatience — it’s a processing system hitting capacity.

Misophonia

An intense, fight-or-flight rage response to specific soft, repetitive sounds — chewing, breathing, a ticking clock. The reaction is disproportionate to the trigger and feels involuntary, because it is.

Tactile defensiveness

An inability to focus because of a physical sensation — a clothing tag, a sock seam, a specific fabric like wool or microfiber. The brain can’t demote the sensation to background, so it dominates attention.

  • Needing to bolt from a busy, bright, loud space
  • A single repetitive sound hijacking your entire focus
  • Cutting tags out of clothes or avoiding certain fabrics entirely

The sensitivity is a filtering difference, not a preference or an overreaction. The input genuinely arrives louder and harder to ignore. The goal isn’t to “get used to it” — it’s to manage the environment so the system doesn’t keep hitting overload.

A note from me

I was diagnosed with ADHD five years ago. Its unmasking brought with it many life-altering manifestations, some of which were incredibly difficult to navigate.

The hardest blow was losing my lifelong passion for reading. The focus and stillness were simply gone. Wanting to better understand what was happening to me, I turned to audiobooks.

I spent many of the hours I was out on the road while out working, listening to book after book, until things slowly began to make sense.

ADHD reframed my entire past, but understanding it has allowed me to take back control of my present and future.

Somewhere in the darkest part of it — the isolation, the not-knowing — I wrote five words down for myself: love me, love my ADHD. It started as something I needed to believe. It became the reason this whole thing exists. It's why you're reading this on a site called lovemelovemyadhd.com.

If you're suffering, help is out there. I hope you find some of it here.

What this is

This guide is everything I wish someone had put in my hands on day one.

It is not the recycled advice you've heard a hundred times — just use a planner, have you tried trying harder. That advice never worked, because it was never built for a brain like ours. This is the real version: why your brain does the thing, and what to actually do about it. No willpower required. No shame attached.