Sunday, October 25

The Startle Reflex & The October Reset

 Dear Diary,

A split-screen digital graphic for 'Life with Sweetestmoondust'. The top half shows a stormy, dark night through a window with a flash of lightning illuminating bare trees; a steaming coffee, a microwavable heat pad, and a laptop sit on the sill. The bottom half features a woman with a dirty blonde bob and glasses wearing large noise-cancelling headphones and a brand hoodie. She is writing with her left hand in a notebook that glows with vibrant pink, purple, green, orange, and yellow patterns. A glowing orange heat pad is visible on her lap. In the window behind her, a mystical sailing ship remains steady on a turbulent, glowing blue sea.


As October draws to a close, I am navigating one of the most exhausting aspects of life with cerebral palsy: the startle reflex.

In the medical world, they might call it a "retained Moro reflex," but in my world, it feels like an internal tripwire. When the wind rattles the window frame or a sudden noise breaks the silence, my body doesn't just "jump." It reacts with a full-system override. Every muscle tightens at once—my back arches, my arms lock, and for a few seconds, I am a passenger in my own skin.

Why do I startle so easily?

The Cost of the "Jump"

The problem isn't just the movement; it’s the aftermath. When you are already dealing with the "October Stuck," your muscles are already on edge. A startle reflex in this cold weather is like snapping an overwound guitar string. It triggers a flare-up of the spasticity that can take hours to soothe. 

My ADHD brain is already processing sensory input at 100mph, so when my body adds this physical "jolt" into the mix, my bandwidth for the day can vanish in an instant. This is why my "Safe Space" is so vital. It’s why the headphones are always on, and why my "Collaborative Process" includes a lot of quiet, low-sensory time.

Navigating with Sovereignty

Even with the startle reflex, I am the captain. I’ve learned to anticipate the triggers. I’m using my tools—my weighted blankets to ground my nervous system and my microwavable heat pads to coax the muscles back into a relaxed state after a jolt.

I am still finishing my work. I am still the person who got those books to the British Library. I just have to do it with an awareness that my body is hyper-vigilant. I’m writing left-handed in the quiet, surrounded by my brand colours—pink, purple, green, orange, and yellow—because colour is a way I reclaim the joy when my body feels "locked."

A Note to the Global Community

For those of you in the UK, we are moving into firework season. For many, it’s a celebration; for us, it’s a minefield of startle triggers. To my followers in the US and China, please be mindful of your sensory environment this month.

Use your local support groups to find "quiet zones" or to share tips on noise-cancelling gear. Don't feel guilty for retreating into your blankets. Protecting your nervous system is a vital part of your voyage.

No comments:

Post a Comment

thank you for your message

The Startle Reflex & The October Reset

  Dear Diary, As October draws to a close, I am navigating one of the most exhausting aspects of life with cerebral palsy: the startle refle...

Buy me a coffee sponsorship

check these out

Translate

Total Pageviews