OVERSTIMULATION AND MY CLOSET BUNK
The best part of my job is the worst part of my job. It’s like loving to write on a chalkboard, but cringing, screaming and crying every time the chalk touches the board.
I love music, but I hate karaoke.
I love seeing newly engaged Shelly and her bridesmaids-to-be drunk on tequila shots living their best lives, singing “I Will Always Love You” by Whitney Houston. But as soon as they’d get to the high notes, I want to Usain Bolt away in terror screaming, and bash my head into the nearest wall until the sound stops. Them off key notes are not fun for my nerves, and my brain somehow refuses to process the jest of it.
There was this kid in college called Humphrey. He was a classical piano major. He had perfect pitch. If you don’t know what that is, it’s the ultimate blessing and curse of being a musician. You’re able to tell what note EVERY. SINGLE. SOUND. you hear is.
One morning we saw Humphrey and tried to say “Hi,” but Humphrey wasn’t in the mood that day, and kept hitting his right ear lobe as if he was trying to make voices in his head go away. We investigated why (not that he was ever in the mood to deal with our bullshit questions.) Humphrey said he got no sleep because the fan kept buzzing a B flat all night, the dorm room was hot, he can’t sleep without his fan, and the flat note tortured him all night because it was flat, so now he’s sleep deprived and grumpy.
This is what overstimulation is like.
After one major tour with Thievery Corporation in 2018, I simulated a tour bus bunk in my small walk-in closet just so I could get some sleep at home. The irony is, I’m extremely claustrophobic and struggle to sleep in my bunk on the tour bus, so much so that I have a designated bunk where it’s easy to escape. So I can get to the driver in the event that I start hyperventilating, need some fresh air and need to go outside. I had a full blown meltdown on my first tour in 2017 in Europe.
Anyway, post tour 2018, I needed a tiny space that was light deprived, sound deprived where I could crawl in and bury myself. I would crawl up into my dark hole, cover every single part of my body with a heavy blanket, put my hoodie over my head, THEN cup both my ears with my hands, to get some sleep.
It literally felt like I’d be losing my mind. I heard my thoughts in my head like voices, everything and every sound would replay in my head over and over very loudly. The crowded backstage noises, the laughter of strangers in the dressing room, people touching me, talking to me, the music, the screams of fans while I’m on stage. I just wanted to turn it off.
This went on for a few days… I was now heading into a month of living in my closet when I started to realize something was terribly wrong. I would only leave the closet to shower, use the bathroom, and pick up food that was being delivered at my front door. The delivery person wouldn’t see me. No sir. I left instructions to leave the food at the front door, then when I knew this person was gone, I’d tuck only my hand out to grab this food and run back upstairs.
That’s it. I had to find a therapist, but I first had to figure out how to actually go outside the front door without having full-blown panic attacks.
Turns out, I had no devices or mechanism to deal with overstimulation and coming down off the dopamine high from tour. This has been a common theme in my life.
After being around people and having too many things happening around me, I want nothing more than to completely unplug. So basically, what happens is that all the excitement, chaos and stimuli produces a higher than normal dopamine level in my brain, more than I’m able to handle. It then becomes extremely uncomfortable and my brain’s way of trying to make it stop is to try to escape the stimulus. And in my case, these became drastic and extreme measures.
Now imagine being an artist, a touring artist, with an issue like this. Every single night after shows I cannot wait to retreat, escape and hibernate. I’d think about dealing with it while I’m getting ready for shows and start feeling the panic attack coming on. I love music and performing. I love making people happy with my music. I love doing the live shows and feeling that exchange of energies with all the fans. It’s the aftermath that’s the death of me.
I wasn’t about to take another medication for no shit, so I started researching methods of coping with sensory overload and overstimulation. For after shows, I needed some time and space after getting off stage before I interacted with anyone to just literally breathe in silence and come down. On some nights, I just cannot see anyone because the process of coming down is taking longer than usual. When I get to the bus or the hotel is always where the greatest challenge is. The whole show plays in my head on repeat without my control and at different pace and decibels.
I started listening to calming white noises to help me turn it off and fall asleep, and started doing deep breathing. When I get home from tours, it’s the extended overstimulation that I have to deal with. I need to unplug and literally shut everything off without unhealthily shutting myself away, then gradually readjust in my daily routines.
It’s the conversation that I’ve got to have with friends sometimes that gets irritating but it’s so important to set those boundaries for my own well being. I mean, if they care about me they’ll understand. Or maybe they’d rather see me in a hospital after suffering a psychotic break after going into a hypomanic state, because I didn’t attend to my mental health to accommodate them and “hang out.”
In my regular life, sensitivity and intuitiveness are already heightened and interactions with others are often challenging. I’m now learning to tailor those interactions and with whom in specified doses.
These days, these are my coping mechanisms. Unplugging, deep breathing, meditation, silence, lots of rest and just taking some time for myself to do absolutely nothing.
