My Autistic Perspective on Attending a Social Club and Attempting to Bowl with Them in a Noisy and Crowded Bowling Alley
Trying to channel my inner Fred Flintstone during an anxiety attack...
"In bowling and in life, if a person made the spares, the strikes would take care of themselves." - Stephen King
One of the daily challenges of living on the spectrum is trying to strike a delicate balance between pushing ourselves outside our comfort zones while also being aware of our psychological limitations. Yesterday, I learned of a social club in town for adults with intellectual disabilities and mustered up enough courage to step outside my comfort zone and check it out. The event was an evening of recreational fun at a deserted elementary school's gym.
The group was quite small, and the environment was nice and quiet. While I experienced my usual autistic social anxiety, I was able to regulate it pretty well. Everybody was doing their own thing in the gym, with no pressure or competitiveness. I had fun shooting some hoops and trying my hand at badminton and pickleball. After the event wrapped, the group's organizers invited me to join them at their weekly bowling excursion the following morning.
I'm not going to lie; I was more than a bit apprehensive about attending a much larger event at a crowded and noisy bowling alley, given the sensory overload I would surely experience. This isn't pessimism, but simply being aware of my limits. I find grocery stores unbearably noisy, crowded, and stressful, and bowling alleys by default are noisy, crowded, and stressful. Still, despite my initial hesitance, I decided to push myself a little further outside my comfort zone by agreeing to give bowling a shot. After all, everybody from the social club was so kind and welcoming, and I do try to make an effort to push myself outside my comfort zone, whenever feasible.
Unfortunately, bowling proved to be a bit too much, too soon for me. The high levels of anxiety and psychological discomfort I experienced had nothing to do with the social club. As mentioned, they're a lovely and welcoming group of individuals living with various intellectual disabilities, including some members who are also on the spectrum. It's just that, as expected, I found the noisiness and crowdedness of the bowling alley extremely overwhelming.
It was tough, but I persevered and managed to go the distance, finishing both rounds of bowling. What was instrumental in helping me cope with the sensory overload was a combination of closing my eyes, stimming by playing with my hands and shaking my knees, taking long deep breaths, and popping in my earbuds to block out all the white noise with a Rolling Stones playlist on YouTube. I found following each of these steps while losing myself in the music helped regulate my stress levels, somewhat.
On top of the sensory overload, I also found the bowling experience itself to be highly stressful. I haven't bowled since my teenaged years and never considered myself particularly good at it, so I felt uncomfortable and insecure having so many strangers watching me struggle to keep the ball out of the gutter. At one point, I managed to achieve a lucky strike, knocking all five pins down in one shot, but my rare bowling victory was thwarted when the right-most pin somehow managed to bounce itself back into position, undoing my strike.
Partaking in a frustrating activity while already highly agitated and overwhelmed wasn't a good idea. I soon developed a bellyache on top of my bellyaching over my perceived poor performance. I know I shouldn't be too hard on myself, as my score did improve somewhat during the second game, and I always managed to knock at least one pin down during each of my turns. Considering I hadn't bowled in years and was attempting to do so while suffering a severe anxiety attack, I think my final score was good enough. Nobody from the group were competitive or judgmental, so I know these feelings of inadequacy are all in my head.
Despite these challenges, I don't regret my decision to give bowling a try, as I'm quite fond of the social group, its members, and organizers. While I'll likely stick to just the quieter and smaller recreational evenings at the elementary school gym for now, I wouldn't entirely rule out the possibility of giving bowling another shot sometime in the future. However, I would need to gradually build up my tolerance to such a noisy and crowded environment by bowling with just my nuclear family during the quieter and less crowded periods of the day. Baby steps, slow and steady wins the race, and all that.
Lastly, I'd like to wrap things up by wishing all my fellow Canadians out there a very safe and Happy Thanksgiving. I hope you're all enjoying delicious meals with your loved ones. Drive carefully and don't give yourselves indigestion from all that turkey, though, ha-ha-ha. Do you have any thoughts on this post? If so, feel free to reach out by leaving a comment, dropping me a line, or signing my guestbook to share your opinions on this or any other topic. Also, feel free to press the "like" button if you enjoyed this post, as "likes" help me gauge audience interest in the content I post. After all, I don't want to bore anyone, ha-ha. Until next time, love, peace, and chicken grease!
Posted in "Autistic Perspectives" on Saturday, October 12, 2024.