The possibilities are fraught by the powerful fears that nip at my heels. Even when the gate is apparent, my autism would make me go back, but I have learned a lot about fighting it off. The problem of perception confuses and haunts me. Colors and light bring intense pleasure though they do not always make sense as simple vision. A greater quietude gained from self stimulation I do, like forever flicking my hand or looking from the side with my eyes half closed.
Sounds are even harder.
Dreadful the loudness and cacophony that I hear when a normal day is in progress with rivalling voices, cars, horns, bells, screeches, trucks, laughter, cries, chairs, stepfalls, dropping pencils. Rewards were few coming from sound, though the voices of a few friends have become cherished. The most terrifying and confusing of all is touch which seems intense. Reality reappears as strident burning if my clothes are new or tight or the wrong fabric. I learned to accommodate the touch of familiar facilitators, but the need to escape stimulation explains why I sometimes walk away or make another self-created noise to focus myself.