I was going to comment about my own experience as someone who’s autistic, but because you mentioned autism, I’m going to reply to you instead.
I get the impression that autistic (and other neurodivergent folk) are more likely to be able to think about non-human perspectives as being fundamentally different. I am hypersensitive to most sensory stimuli. Sirens, for example, cause me physical pain. I can hear noises that most people can’t (like high pitched sounds from electronics). It can also be a good thing — during sex, a firm caress on my arm can be as pleasurable as directly stimulating a more conventional erogenous zone (sometimes more so).
I was diagnosed when I was a teenager, and it blew my mind to realise that I’d been experiencing the world in a way that was distinctly different to the majority of people. Honestly, I still haven’t stopped reeling from that realisation.
And I’m reeling with you! And your solarpunk nickname is perfect! It blows my mind that you can experience the same stimuli in a distinctly different way. It means that the normal “common” way of experiencing the world is anecdoticaly shared with a lot of other all-the-same-and-glad-about-it human beings, but narrow and selective. I don’t mean to romanticize your condition in any way. But I don’t think mine should be romanticized either.
I wish I could share your pain as the sirens go by, because I wish I could make it easier for you, but also because experiencing it in a distinctly different way would broaden my world, as I would be able to think about another, not less true, not less important, perspective. Or put another way: Sex is boring, I need to start paying more attention to my arms.
I was going to comment about my own experience as someone who’s autistic, but because you mentioned autism, I’m going to reply to you instead.
I get the impression that autistic (and other neurodivergent folk) are more likely to be able to think about non-human perspectives as being fundamentally different. I am hypersensitive to most sensory stimuli. Sirens, for example, cause me physical pain. I can hear noises that most people can’t (like high pitched sounds from electronics). It can also be a good thing — during sex, a firm caress on my arm can be as pleasurable as directly stimulating a more conventional erogenous zone (sometimes more so).
I was diagnosed when I was a teenager, and it blew my mind to realise that I’d been experiencing the world in a way that was distinctly different to the majority of people. Honestly, I still haven’t stopped reeling from that realisation.
And I’m reeling with you! And your solarpunk nickname is perfect! It blows my mind that you can experience the same stimuli in a distinctly different way. It means that the normal “common” way of experiencing the world is anecdoticaly shared with a lot of other all-the-same-and-glad-about-it human beings, but narrow and selective. I don’t mean to romanticize your condition in any way. But I don’t think mine should be romanticized either.
I wish I could share your pain as the sirens go by, because I wish I could make it easier for you, but also because experiencing it in a distinctly different way would broaden my world, as I would be able to think about another, not less true, not less important, perspective. Or put another way: Sex is boring, I need to start paying more attention to my arms.