Taming the Chaos - My Sensory Hacks for a Peaceful Life

In my last post, I wrote about the "Dementia Hangover" and the crash that comes from sensory overload. While resting is vital, I've also learned that prevention is better than cure.

If my brain’s a computer running on a dial-up connection (as I described last time), then "Sensory Hacks" are the “pop-up blockers” that keep it safe.

They prevent unnecessary data from flooding my system, so I can save my processing power for the things that matter - like talking to my partner, Pam, or enjoying a meal.

Over the years, I’ve tweaked my home and my habits to turn down the volume of the world.

Here are some of the practical changes that have helped me stay calmer for longer.

Visual Noise: Decluttering the View

For me, looking at a cluttered room feels the same as listening to a screaming crowd.

It’s exhausting.

Every object demands my brain's attention.

• The "One Surface" Rule: I try to keep flat surfaces clear. A coffee table with five magazines, two remote controls, and a mug is a puzzle my brain has to solve every time I look at it. I use baskets to hide the mess. If I can't see it, it isn't draining my battery. In my last post, I wrote about the "Dementia Hangover" and the crash that comes from sensory overload. While resting is vital, I,ve also learned that prevention is better than cure.
  

  If my brain’s a computer running on a dial-up connection (as I described last time), then "Sensory Hacks" are the “pop-up blockers” that keep it safe. They prevent unnecessary data from flooding my system, so I can save my processing power for the things that matter—like talking to my partner, Pam, or enjoying a meal.
  

  Over the years, I’ve tweaked my home and my habits to turn down the volume of the world.

  
  

• Contrast is King: I used to love my white plates on my white tablecloth. Now? I can’t see the food properly. It all blends into a white fog. I have switched to a blue tablecloth. The high contrast helps my brain define the edges of the plate, making eating much less tiring.

  
  

• The Black Mat Danger: I removed the dark welcome mat from inside the front door. Why? Because to my brain, a dark patch on a light floor doesn't look like a rug. It looks like a deep hole. Stepping over it caused me subconscious anxiety every single day.
  

Auditory Armor: Managing the Decibels

Background noise is the silent killer of my energy. I used to be able to read a book while the radio was on. Now, if there is background noise, I can’t hear my own thoughts.

• Loop Earplugs: These have been a game-changer. They are small earplugs that reduce background noise (like the hum of the fridge or traffic) but still let you hear people talking. They take the "sharp edge" off the world.
  

• The "No TV" Rule: We no longer leave the TV on "for company." If we aren't watching it, it is off. That low-level constant chatter forces my brain to constantly filter out words I don't need to hear.
  

• Carpets and Curtains: We added a rug to the hallway and thicker curtains in the living room. It sounds like a design choice, but it was a medical one. Soft surfaces absorb sound.
  

  Hard floors bounce sound, creating echoes that scramble my thinking.
  

Lighting: Chasing the Shadows

Dementia changes how you perceive light and shadow.

• Banishing Shadows: In the evenings, I use lamps rather than the big overhead light. Overhead lights can cast harsh shadows that my brain misinterprets as people or objects. Soft, diffused lighting is much less confusing.
  

• The Bathroom Light: I installed a motion-sensor light in the bathroom. Trying to find a small switch in the dark when you are groggy is a recipe for distress. Now, I just walk in, and the room gently lights up. It promotes independence, which is worth its weight in gold.
  

Tactile Comfort: The "Itchy" Factor

I've become incredibly sensitive to touch. A scratchy label that I wouldn't have noticed five years ago now feels like sandpaper.

• Tag Removal: I cut the labels out of everything. Every shirt, every pair of trousers. Some of the sewn-in labels nowadays are the size of a supermarket receipt for a weekly shop!
  

• Fabric Choices: I stick to cottons and soft wools. If I am physically uncomfortable, my ability to think drops. It is like trying to do algebra while someone is pinching you. By wearing comfortable clothes, I remove that distraction.
  

The "Landing Strip."

Finally, the most useful hack has been creating a "Landing Strip" by the front door.

I have a specific tray where my keys, my wallet, and my glasses live. They do not go anywhere else. Ever.

When you have dementia, "looking for things" is not just annoying; it is panic-inducing. It triggers a spiral of “I’m losing my mind again.”

Knowing exactly where my essentials are gives me a sense of control and safety before I even leave the house.

And Finally...

This has been the fourth and final blog in a series. I didn't plan it this way, but when I started writing, I realised that there was more to the topic than I'd thought. Examining Imposter "syndrome" meant discussing "Showtiming", and then I decided I ought to expand further and suggest common coping strategies, and ones that work for me. I'm rather used to baring my soul to public scrutiny now, and I hope that my ramblings may provide some insight or entertainment. Please leave a comment or two - It's sometimes a bit lonely out here in Blog land, and I wonder if I'm simply shouting at clouds...