The fog machine went off. Someone’s vodka drink made my toe soggy. An orange feather boa found me. And somewhere between the bass drop and the WC line, I knew: ik ben overprikkeld.
My new friend’s eyes met mine. My eyes scanned over to the door. He understood immediately and nodded. After some farewell hugs, we exited the party.
I left without apologizing for it.
Let’s rewind.
It’s Koningsdag in the Netherlands.
Nine years ago, as a study abroad student, I celebrated this holiday of the King’s birthday on a boat with a bunch of friends I’d met in class. Whenever I felt tired or socially awkward, I’d grab a greenie. Overprikkeld? Drink something. Numb it and never notice my body’s signal of sensory overload. I wanted the full experience. To be in the swarm of orange and boats, and Heineken was how I got there.
Alcohol was how I made friends. How I became courageous. How I stayed in the crowd past the point my body was asking to leave. But things are different now.
This August marks four years without alcohol.
So before heading to a friend of a friend’s Koningsdag party, I bought a beaded bandanna because I saw some other Dutch girls who looked suave and cool wearing them in Sarphatipark. And then I ran through a grocery list of bullets in my brain that I could talk about with new people, like what I learned in week one of my Dutch course, or where I live in the city, or that I celebrated this holiday nine years ago. Expecting to be the only person there not taking advantage of the open bar, not using the tried-and-true shortcut to quick connection and social lubrication.
To my surprise, I found a sober buddy. Someone else abstaining from the booze and debauchery, while still wanting to participate and be present for the holiday. Already, something in my system settled when I saw them sitting on the windowsill at the edge of the party, taking a break.
And then I hopped on the back of a bike for the next house party. I danced my butt off. The DJ’s bass on Prinsengracht vibrated through me, signaling time for my earplugs. The fog machine smelled funky and made me unsure if I had lost a contact. And my €8 bandana became disheveled and extra floppy after hair-flipping and dropping it low in the middle of the dance floor. I invited peers in the water-closet line to a casual dance-off to pass the time. After my bladder emptied, I saw all the blotto bodies in the room and felt an immediate urge to flee.
I used to think stamina meant staying in the swarm no matter what.
That leaving early was a weakness, and needing the quiet or fresh air was lame. But the more I notice my system, the more I understand that knowing when I’ve hit my limit is resilience. Earplugs in, dancing anyway, then recognizing the moment I’m at maximum and vocalizing it is a harder kind of strength. The people pleaser in me wants to keep going even though it’s already been seven hours in a sea of stimulation.
When I finally voiced my limit with ik ben overprikkeld, my new friend didn’t miss a beat.
While walking down the least crowded streets, we eventually landed on a fluorescently lit FEBO fast food joint for frites. In line, I pulled him in, and we hugged. My heartbeat slowed, tension in my jaw eased, and my breath finally reached my belly. The sounds of the street simmered down.
The prikkels faded. I felt found.
Hello fellow learn-it-all 👋
Greetings from Amsterdam in the Netherlands. Now, let’s dive into the rest of letter 312 from a learn-it-all. Enjoy!
❓Question to think about
How do I like to actively rest and regulate after being overstimulated?
🔍Word to define
Dutch: Overprikkeld
Ex: Jen is overprikkeld en moet rusten.
English: Overstimulated
Ex: Jen is overstimulated and needs to rest.
A state of being overwhelmed due to excessive sensory input, information, or activity, where the brain or nervous system can no longer properly process the input.
(1) 🎬 Watching
Overstimulation and how that works
(Overprikkeling en hoe dat werkt)
I really love this image that shows how we only have so much of a battery to use up in a day before we need to recharge.
(2) 🎬 Watching
The Dutch are overstimulated, a plea for ‘active relaxation’: ‘Different from physical fatigue’
(Nederlanders zijn overprikkeld, een pleidooi voor ‘actieve ontspanning’: ‘Anders dan fysieke vermoeidheid’.)
It was surprising to hear about how most people come home from a long day and turn on a series, but that doens’t actually relieve mental fatigue and can create more.
🎧Listening
black & white by Chelsea Cutler and Jeremy Zucker
Layin' down next to me
Couple miles out of Tennessee
Empty-handed, but I got you
Haven't been doin' well
Nothin' makes me feel like myself
Nothing comes as close as you do
🌟Quote to Inspire
“Fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm fearsome, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore. They leave that wisdom to those to whom it appeals. When the storm comes — when night falls — what’s worse: the danger or the fear of danger? Give me reality, the danger itself.”
— Vincent Van Gogh, in a letter to his brother Theo, from The Hague, May 16, 1882
📸Photos of the Week
That first photo is of me nine years ago as a student, celebrating King’s Day.
🙏Shoutouts
To Audrey Gran Weinberg , Mary Harrison , Tamara Hasekamp , and Nathalie Cohen for their thoughts on drafts of this piece
I am grateful you chose to fill part of your day here.
If something in this letter resonated, press the ❤️ , leave a comment, reply to this email, or reach me at vermetJL@gmail.com. I love hearing from you.
Keep on learning 😁
Tot snel 🌺 🌺
Toodles :)
Jen
P.S. #1 - I wrote a book. Letters to My Life is my favorite way to share my writing with you (and it keeps your screen-time stats down). Grab your copy here.
P.S. #2 - Here’s what you missed. Last week I wrote about what a Dutch grammar lesson taught me about making meaning in life
A thoughtful piece on over stimulation. Thanks for sharing Jen! One of my favorite strategies for dealing with overprikkeling is the Irish goodbye ;)
Oooh nice one, Jen!