When a cold crosses the body, mind… and nervous system
I have been in bed for days.
With one of those colds that leave you flat. That don’t even allow you to think clearly.
Coughing hurts. Sleeping is hard. Everything weighs.
And while the body surrenders to the virus, I think:
Does this feel the same for everyone?
Is it normal for me to feel so overwhelmed?
Does the light hurt me?
Is it that I can’t tolerate the contact of the sheets?
Is it that I feel incapable of enduring the slightest noise?
And then I remember:
I am neurodivergent. And no, it is not always experienced the same way. Not even we experience one cold the same as another depending on our emotional state.
This article is born from this bed.
From this body that, in addition to the virus, holds a different neurological architecture.
And that needs us to understand it… even when it gets sick.
When your sensory system goes on strike
Being cold is not just having a runny nose and fever.
For me (and for many neurodivergent individuals) it is as if all the sensors go crazy:
- The light cream.
- The noise crosses.
- The physical contact is bothersome.
- The pain amplifies until it becomes unbearable… or sometimes, I don’t even notice it until it’s extreme. Can it happen? Well, it seems so…
And no, it’s not drama. It’s not exaggeration.
It’s sensory processing.
It’s living with a brain that interprets the world with different parameters.
According to current research, many autistic and neurodivergent individuals in general have alterations in the sensory processing:
our threshold for pain, touch, sound, or temperature does not function the same as that of neurotypical individuals.
And when the body gets sick… this nervous system becomes overloaded.
Science is starting to say it…
Studies like the one published by Frontiers in Psychiatry (2022) and ScienceDirect (2024) explain that:
- Neurodivergent individuals may experience physical symptoms with a greater emotional and sensory intensity.
- Pain, fever, and discomfort can generate greater anxiety and dysregulation.
- The environment (noises, lights, smells) can worsen the experience of being unwell.
- Mental exhaustion multiplies: the body needs to stop, but the mind doesn't always know how.
What for another person is “having a fever and watching a movie,” for me is surviving a sensory whirlwind, with no energy to ask for help.
And then… how do we take care of ourselves?
If you are also neurodivergent and you are unwell, or you are supporting someone who is, here are some learnings I want to share:
1. The body leads (and we must listen to it)
- If you need darkness, turn everything off.
- If you can't tolerate clothing, look for soft textures.
- If you can't stand voices, opt for headphones, notes, simple gestures, pictograms.
2. Sometimes pain goes unnoticed… until it explodes
- Some people do not feel discomfort in a “classic” way.
- We can continue to feel “fine” until the body bursts. Suddenly.
- Listening to mood changes, fatigue, or irritability… can be more useful than taking the temperature.
3. It doesn't have to be functional: take care of yourself
- You are not lazy.
- Don't exaggerate.
- You are not alone.
Rest is part of healing.
Caring from sensitivity
Those who accompany also need keys.
Because sometimes we don't know how to care for someone who can't explain what they feel, or who closes off even more when something hurts them.
Here are some simple and loving ideas:
- Ask gently: "Does this bother you?", "Do you want less light?", "Do you prefer silence?"
- Validate: "I believe you", "I understand that this overwhelms you", "It's okay to take your time".
- Adjust the environment before demanding answers: space, silence, calm, body.
Discomfort, when respected, hurts less.
Getting sick without the world hurting you more
Being sick shouldn't mean that the world becomes impossible for you.
It shouldn't hurt more to have a different brain.
And yet, for many of us, getting sick feels like losing everything a little:
routine, clarity, control, strength… and also belonging.
That's why I write this. For you. For me. For all.
Because when that day comes when the body asks for bed,
may it also find an environment that does not judge, that does not demand, that does not squeeze.
Because resting shouldn't hurt.
And taking care of ourselves should be the most natural thing in the world.
Did this article resonate with you?
Share it with those who need it.
Leave us your experience in the comments.
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With affection and an infusion of thyme and ginger,
Verònica Martín
Co-Founder of ATIPICOS.org
Director of A-tipic Biointeriors