We moved in together about three months ago, which was right around the same time he received his autism diagnosis. He already knew he had OCD, and before we started living together, I was well aware of his rituals and routines, and he takes meds and sees a therapist, which has helped keep it at a level he can function.
I'm all for him being more of himself. The problem is, when he gets home now, he fully 'unmasks'-so lots of vocal and physical stimming. He can't or won't sit still when we're gaming together, he makes all of these noises and talks more to himself than to me sometimes. I feel really guilty, but his stimming feels chaotic and overwhelming to me. I find myself hiding in the bathroom just to get some quiet. I think half the reason why I work where I work is because I'm mostly by myself with my research. I want to be able to come home to a peaceful environment. I haven't told him I feel this way-and except for noticing I'm taking longer in the bathroom, he hasn't said anything. I don't want to come off as a jerk. What do I do?
Sincerely,
Miffed about Unmasking
Dear Miffed,
Let’s take a giant step back and let yourself off the hook immediately: You are not a jerk or even jerk-adjacent.
You are a researcher who intentionally chose a career hanging out with quiet data because your brain requires a low-sensory sanctuary to survive. He is a newly diagnosed 28-year-old who finally feels safe enough to let out a lifetime of pent-up sensory energy.
You two are basically a head-on collision of conflicting sensory needs. Your craving for absolute peace is just as valid as his need to stim like a human pinball machine. But using your bathroom as your own sensory deprivation tank is not the way to go moving forward.
Since you both love gaming, let’s treat this like a co-op strategy session. You have a shared map, your character stats are totally different, and you need to optimize the layout so you both don’t glitch out.
Here are some suggestions on how to handle this particular issue:
Drop the Hints (He Can’t Read Them Anyway)
He is autistic and values direct, logical communication. He is not going to magically decode that your bathroom breaks as the screams for solitude that they are. I’m surprised he hasn’t asked if IBS runs in your family or stockpiled the medicine cabinet with Pepto.
You need to frame this around sensory processing, not his personality. He isn’t doing anything wrong, and neither are you. You just have entirely different baselines for what “recharging” looks like.
The Scripts: What to Say
To be clear, the following are examples. I encourage you to use your vocab and make them your own.
I do prescribe picking a neutral time—not right when he is bouncing off the walls—and deliver it straight, with love:
The “It’s Not You, It’s My Brain” Script: “Hey, I love that you feel safe enough to completely unmask and be yourself around me. It means a lot. But we have a tactical problem: your unmasked setting is very high-sensory, and my battery recharges in zero-sensory peace. When you stim heavily right next to me, my brain goes into red-alert overload. I’ve been hiding in the bathroom to cope, which is ridiculous. Let’s figure out some ground rules so we both get to recharge after work.”
The Shorter Gaming Script: “I need to pause our current home setup. I love you, but when you get home and the vocal and physical stimming starts, it hits my sensory overload button. Since I need total quiet to function after a day of research, I need us to adjust our co-op strategy so I don’t lose my mind while you’re getting your energy out.”
Tactical Shared Gaming Setups
You can absolutely still play video games and DnD together without sacrificing your sanity. You just need the right gear:
Invest in Sound Barriers: Get yourself some high-fidelity earplugs (like Loop Switch) or active noise-canceling headphones. They shave off the sharp, jarring edges of vocal stims and self-talk while still letting you hear the game audio or actual conversation.
Physical Separation: If he cannot sit still while gaming, stop trying to share a couch. Give him a setup with a gaming rocker or a yoga ball so he can rock and bounce to his heart’s content without shaking the cushions you are sitting on.
The “Transition Hour” Protocol: Establish a boundary where the first 45 minutes after work are spent apart. He goes to one room to do his heavy physical and vocal unmasking, and you get the living room for absolute, dead-silent decompression.
Evict the Bathroom Safe-Zone: Claim an actual room (or a corner of the bedroom) as a strict, non-negotiable Low-Sensory Zone. No stimming, no loud noises, no chaotic energy allowed inside that perimeter.
Tackling DnD Nights with Mutual Friends
Since you share a friend group and play DnD, his unmasking will eventually bleed into game nights. This can make you feel trapped because you can’t easily escape to the bathroom (not that you should need to). Perhaps try our these guidelines:
The Fidget Upgrade: Encourage him to swap loud vocal or large physical stims for silent, heavy-work fidgets at the table (like copper spinning coins, acupressure rings, or high-resistance therapy putty).
The “Out of Character” Break: Agree on a subtle hand signal. If his pacing or self-talk gets too chaotic during a long campaign session, you can flash the signal, and he takes a 5-minute break away from the table to get the energy out.
Seating Strategy: Sit across from him at the DnD table rather than right next to him. Physical proximity amplifies sensory overload; a few feet of distance handles a lot of the vibration and sound.
He is still the exact same guy whose brilliant mind you fell for—he’s just finally running his operating system out loud. Also, moving in together-without sensory issues-is a HUGE adjustment. I thought I was going to kill my partner when we first moved in together.
My point is, stop feeling guilty, get out of the bathroom, and go solve the puzzle together.
One more thing: look at this as delicious opp to do a research deep-dive of your own. Learn how your brain and body work. Since you’re a research girlie, start with sensory processing issues.
Oh, and here’s your personalized playlist: Mixtape Therapy’s Sound Advice #2: My Unmasked Boyfriend is Really Annoying!
With sound advice,
Your Mixtape Therapist
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Excellent advice and gave me a lot to think about!