**Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) is a condition that affects how your brain processes sensory information (stimuli). Sensory information includes things you see, hear, smell, taste, or touch. SPD can affect all of your senses, or just one. SPD usually means you're overly sensitive to stimuli that other people are not.
Summary: You keep your SPD to yourself- which is difficult when all of your senses are being attacked 24/7. You're not embarrassed of your disorder, you just don't want to bother others with it. It tortures you everyday, but you're strong and manage to cope. When the team figures out you have it, what do they think?
~~~
Scenario One:
Was it OCD? Or was it just a part of SPD that caused you to do a certain things to avoid a trigger? Could it also be anxiety? I have no fucking clue.
Either way, I do things a certain way. Sometimes I'm aware of it and sometimes I am not.
For example
- I will wear shoes because I don't like the bare carpet
- If I use my right hand to touch an object with a texture that I don't like, I feel like the only thing to relax me is to touch it with my left hand. It'd kinda balance the discomfort? No clue.
- I'm a bookwork that loves to read but I have to keep my nails short because I hate the sound of scraping paper. Turning pages is a nightmare..
- I love cooking as well, but touching butter, canola oil, vegetable oil, or any other greasy liquid is a literal hell for me. Most people shrug it off and just use a quick napkin, but I scrub my hands with soap because I can't stand the texture.
- I hate seeing thing out of the corner of my eye moving. I hate it if I'm reading a book and someone starts swinging their feet (even if it's silent) and I see them out of the corner of my eye.
- I can't wear jeans because I don't like the texture or sound of scraping denim
- I hate tight clothes
- I always wash my hands before cleaning my phone because I hate having to swipe on it to read something, just to have grease coat it
- And probably the last major one, I can't eat jello, pudding, potato salad, and certain types of yogurt. The smooth yet squishy and oozing texture makes me dry heave
- I hate the sound of chewing, especially if it's gum
So yeah, life isn't exactly a fucking walk in the park for me. But I've always been one of those people say "Eh, fuck it. There's always someone out there who has it worse."
I'm in the kitchen with Wanda right now making cookies and Natasha is sitting at the counter, on her phone. Right now we're adding the ingredients in the bowl.
I was gonna ask Wanda if she could cut up a few tablespoons of butter for me, but she was already using the mixer. I can't avoid the problem forever, so I cut it myself.
I added the pieces of butter to the white remixing bowl. I went to go wash my hands but Wanda kept handing me things. Little cups, an egg, etc.
Then I finally snap.
"Wanda- I need to wash my hands!" I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
It comes out sounding more shaky than intended.
"Uh- Yeah. Okay here, I'll take that." Wanda says as I hand her the dry measuring cup.
I quickly use a paper towel and scrub off the left over butter and sugar. Then, I get my hands wet and scrub them with the dish soap.
I have to do it twice because I can still feel the grease lingering after the second time.
I had calmed down a bit after the second wash and I wipe my hands.
I set the rag down with a sigh. When I turn my head, I notice that Nat had been watching me the entire time.
Wanda quickly turned her gaze back over to stirring the ingredients, acting like she hadn't been staring as well.
"Y/n, you okay?" Nat asks, still keeping her eyes on me.
I lean against the counter and nod my head with a smile.
"Yeah, I'm good.. I just remembered that I didn't wash my hands after cracking the eggs. I shouldn't have been touching everything." I say smoothly.
I was honestly a bit surprised with how well I lied.
Nat nods her head understandingly.
"Oh yeah good call. Wouldn't want you cross-contaminating anything." Wanda says.
She knew that something was up but didn't push it any further. When she had joined the team she also promised that she wouldn't read anyone's thoughts without their permission.
"Hey, you good with finishing that up on your own?" I ask Wanda.
She nods her head as begins to take the mixed cookie dough and put pieces on the baking sheet.
Nat softly smiles at me as I walk by and I return it.
"You think something's up with her? She's just seemed a bit on edge lately." Nat asks when you're out of ear-shot.
"I'm sure she's alright. I think we've all been a little off since Ultron. I'd just give her some space." The red head replies.
A few days later
Everyone is seated at the Avenger's meeting office, using it as a dining room.
Chinese take out had just arrived and everyone excitedly took their servings.
This is the seating chart at the table:
(Obviously not everyone is here, Clint's at home, Vision doesn't eat, etc )
____steve___bucky___me___bruce____
🥠🥡🥢
____thor____tony____wanda___nat____
Right now, I sit between Bucky and Bruce with Wanda sitting across from me.
Everything is going well until Tony and Steve start a petty argument. There's a reason why they aren't sitting directly next to one another..
Unfortunately, it was too late to switch seats as most people were already digging into their food.
"It's Chinese take-out! Not a five-star restaurant!" Tony argues.
"I'm just saying that you don't need those mountain of napkins everywhere- it's kind of gross to look at ." Steve counters.
"Oh, I'm so sorry Mr. America. I do apologize for ruining your meal time, let me guess- this'll bother you too?-" Tony scoffs, then begins to chew obnoxiously.
He chomps with his mouth wide open, it making squelching sounds.
Everyone's telling him to knock it off because it's gross.
The sound is so disturbing- it's one of my worst triggers. I clench my fists tightly under the table as I try to keep my breath steady. My jaw clenches and my palms start to sweat- which adds an uncomfortable texture to my hands, worsening my stress. The sound is obnoxious- the people yelling at him to stop is overwhelming.
I quickly scoot my seat out, the wooden legs screeching as I back away from the table. Tony finally stops chomping and everyone looks at me as I get up.
I really couldn't care less at this point. All I can focus on is trying not to break down in front of everyone.
I race out of the room, clenching my fists tightly.
Wanda's POV
Tony and Steve begin to banter back and forth. Why can't I enjoy a meal without them ruining it by fighting?
I sigh heavily and roll my eyes as I take another bite of my egg roll.
Tony continues to retaliate against Steve's words and chooses to loudly eat his food like a starving dog. His mouth is open as he eats his noodles, making unnecessary slurping noises.
I look around the table to see that Bucky was leaning over the table a bit, exchanging a few words with Natasha. Thor is watching Steve and Tony argue as Tony continues to eat. Bruce is silently eating his food, occasionally glancing up at the group of people as he basks in the drama.
But then I notice Y/n.
Her jaw is tight as her breathing seems slightly faster paced than usual. She squeezes her eyes shut tightly for a moment, before looking across the table. I follow her gaze and notice that she's looking at Tony. It's wasn't a glare- it wasn't like she was angry, just stressed.
The sound must be bothering her.
I lean over a bit at Natasha who has just exchanged a few words with Bruce.
I gently tap her elbow, gaining her attention. When she looks at me I slightly tilt my head, gesturing at the girl across from me.
Natasha looks at her and furrows her eyebrows, seeing the same thing.
All of a sudden, she quickly stands up, excusing herself.
Your POV
"F.R.I.D.A.Y, please tell Vision to meet me at my room." I say out loud as I walk down the hallway.
"Yes, Miss Y/l/n." The A.I. replies.
Vision had figured it out a few months ago. Although he wasn't the most skilled at expressing emotions and reading people, he once was an A.I. He's like google as a person. He doesn't remember fully his life as J.A.R.V.I.S but he still has information in him.
He had noticed my behavior and associated it with SPD. He confronted me about it one day, asking if I had it. I confessed that I did, but I told him that he needn't tell anyone.
He promised he wouldn't tell. We actually got along together pretty well, considering he's a Synthezoid. He comforted me when I had my very rare panic attacks.
I am panting as I walk down the hall to my room, tears rolling down my cheeks.. I clench and unclench my fists as I try to get thaf sound out of my mind.
When I reach my bedroom, I notice that the lights are already on. I open the door to see Vision sitting on my bed, waiting for me.
He flashes me a comforting smile and I close the door behind me.
~
Wanda and Natasha had decided not to follow you, wanting to give you space as you seemed overwhelmed as it was.
As soon as you left the room Natasha loudly states in a sarcastic tone,
"Way to go boys, way to go."
"He-" Steve starts.
"No. I do not want to hear it. Your childish antics made a fellow family member of ours feel so overwhelmed to the point where she left the table. It's both of your guys's faults. I hope you're happy." Wanda cuts Steve off.
The girls stand up and take their plates into the kitchen. Bruce follows behind, sighing disappointedly at the two men.
The three began to talk about your recent behavior.
"She's been occasionally hanging out with me for a little while whenever she feels a bit stressed. I think we just get each other, we know what it's like to feel so overwhelmed to the point where you need to remove yourself from the situation... But I think that we should maybe call a meeting with the team tomorrow.." Bruce trails off.
The women agree that it may be the best thing for you. They don't feel like you're keeping secrets or anything- they're just worried with how anxious you've seemed lately.
~
I lay down in my bed as Vision sits on a fluffy chair next to my bed. I had taken some anti-anxiety pills and am now feeling a bit calmer. He offered to read me some Shakespeare, knowing that I liked his stories and plays a lot. I'm not gonna lie, his light British accent is quite soothing to listen to. Currently, he had just finished Hamlet.
"Thank you, Vision. I really appreciated that. I enjoy your company." I say, turning my head to him.
"You're welcome, Y/n. I enjoy your company as well. I am sorry that you have this disorder, it seems quite stressful to have. The human mind is complex and quite scary- cruel, even." He says, sighing at the last part.
"Well, it is already quite late so I will leave you be. Have a good night, Y/n." Vision says softly, standing up.
"You too." I whisper back.
Then next day a meeting was called at noon. I don't know who called it or why but something tells me it isn't about a mission or training.
Later at noon I make my way down the hall walking side by with Bruce.
"How're you feeling?" He asks.
I turn my head towards him, confused. Then I remember the night before.
"Oh, uh.. The conversations and sounds just became a bit.. much." I say, choosing my words carefully.
"Well, I'm here if you need anything." He says, smiling.
I thank him and realize that we were already at the room. He opens the door for me and we step inside. It seems like we're the last two to join. I also notice that neither Fury nor Agent Hill were in the room.
I take a seat between Vision and Bruce, crossing my leg over the other. I wait for someone to start speaking until Natasha speaks up.
"So, the reason I've called this meeting today.. is because.. uh.. we've been worried about you, Y/n." She says.
My mouth dries at her words and my anxiety starts to rise as I notice all of the attention is on me.
"Also, Tony and I would like to apologize for our banter. We know that it kinda got out of hand." Steve says.
"Thank you." I say, unsure of where to start.
"We don't mean to corner you or feel like we're forcing you to talk- we just care a lot about you and want to know what's going on." Bruce says.
I sigh and look into my lap. I'm not embarrassed by my disorder, it's just strange to talk about. I don't want anyone to look at me differently or feel bad for accidentally causing one of my triggers.
Vision can see the gears turning in my head and he slips his red hand in mine as a comforting gesture.
I look at him and smile as a thank you.
"Well, everything has been alright. But there is something that I have to say and I want you all to promise me that you don't see me any different. Or like I am incapable of completing tasks." I say, standing up from my seat to get a better view.
I look around the table and see everyone nodding their heads.
"Well, truth is, I have a disorder. It is called Sensory-Processing-Disorder. It effects how my senses process certain information." I begin.
I look down at Vision for help. It is hard how to explain this. He nods his head in acknowledgement and stands up next to me.
"Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) is a condition that affects how your brain processes sensory information (stimuli). Sensory information includes things you see, hear, smell, taste, or touch. SPD can affect all of your senses, or just one. SPD usually means you're overly sensitive to stimuli that other people are not." Vision says.
I thank him and he squeezes my hand again. I look around the table again and see everyone waiting patiently for me. Luckily, nobody seems to be judging me.
"As Vision said, certain stimuli seem to be more oversensitive for me. It feels like what most people call 'nails on a chalkboard'- except it's more severe. Everyone has their own pet peeves when it comes to those "nails on a chalkboard". But for me, I have way more of those peeves. They cause me stress when I am around them- heavy breathing, the feeling that my ears are hurting, increased heart rate, sweaty palms, and more. Sometimes if it's too overwhelming I have panic attacks. The thing that causes them are called triggers." I say.
Everyone nods their head understandingly.
"So, that's why you left the room last night? Your senses became overwhelmed?" Wanda asks.
She doesn't ask in a judgemental tone, but a curious one.
"Yes, exactly." I answer.
"What was your trigger?.. Or triggers? If you don't mind me asking." She asks.
I pause for a moment, clearing my throat.
"Uh, it was kinda.. everything? There were already people talking, plates scratching. I think it started when uh... Tony started chewing loudly.. No offense Tony." I say, gesturing to him.
He nods his head with his lips tight and mumbles an apology.
"No, it wasn't your fault. The sound of loud chewing is just one of my biggest triggers- one of my biggest anxieties. You couldn't have known. The reason why I didn't tell anyone wasn't because I was ashamed to have SPD- not at all. It was because I didn't want anyone to see me as this fragile, overly sensitive person. But most of all, I didn't want you to feel bad if something you did triggered my senses. The last thing I want is for all of you to walk on eggshells around me." I say.
"We wouldn't look at you any differently,
Y/n. We just wished that there was something to do to ease your stress." Natasha says.
I smile gratefully at her words.
"Yeah, your disorder doesn't make you who we are." Thor says.
"Thanks guys, I feel a lot better about you saying that.." I say.
"How long have you had it? Or when were you diagnosed with it?" Bruce asks.
"Well, let's see.. I didn't start showing signs until I was about ten. I was diagnosed as eleven and now I am sixteen. So a little over five years. I've known you guys for two. But, I know you're probably wondering why you're just now noticing it?.." I ask them.
They all nod their heads, even Natasha who's a spy that can detect the smallest things.
"I'm going through a med thing. It took me about two years to find the perfect medication- probably the worst two years of my life to be honest.. But I've been off my meds for about a week because the pharmacy has been acting up. They haven't refilled my prescription." I sigh.
Tony stands up from his seat loudly.
"You tell me where you get your meds from and who runs that business and I am going to give them hell until they refill it. Even if I gotta give them some moolah- whatever helps them get their shit together." He says, pointing to me.
I laugh and thank him.
"Uh, I think what Tony is trying to say is that we hate seeing you suffer like that so we'll definitely call them for you." Steve says.
"She knows exactly what I'm trying to say- I don't need you to correct my speech, Capsicle." Tony says, sitting back down in his seat.
~
Twenty four hours later
"Here are your pills, M'lady." Tony says with a bow, handing them out to me.
I chuckle and give him a hug as he awkwardly rubs my back.
~
Their support means a lot to me and everyone has been great since. Tony kept his promise and called the pharmacy. They must've shit their pants when the Tony Stark berated them. Let's just say, I got my pills not even twenty-four hours later.
They've been kind and helpful to me- making sure that I'm comfortable. I had explained my triggers and told Wanda why I had to wash my hands so badly the day we were making cookies.
From then on she had offered to cut the butter and oil the pans for me.
Although they couldn't do everything to ease my struggles, they certainly helped a lot and I couldn't have been more grateful to have them as my family.
~
~
Editor's Note: Thank you for reading the entire story! Be sure to leave a star!
I created this chapter for myself and anyone else who struggles with this condition- all of those symptoms listed at the beginning are all personal symptoms of mine.