Overlaps of APD, SPD, and Autism

To me, Auditory Processing Disorder (APD), Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD), ADHD, and autism don’t exist in isolation. They often walk hand in hand—especially in children (and their adult counterparts) who experience the world through the lens of sensory dysregulation.

These are not just kids who are “distracted.” These are kids whose brains are working overtime to filter sensory input—sound, touch, light, movement—and often failing. Their inaccuracy in processing combined with sensory fatigue leads to coping mechanisms that can look like inattention, impulsivity, emotional reactivity, or withdrawal.

They fatigue quickly. They stim. They fidget. They seek movement or sound to stay awake. They distract themselves from the numbness that comes with constant overwhelm. They interrupt—not out of rudeness, but to control a conversation they can no longer track due to competing input. They hurt themselves. They run fast, crash, fall. Their bodies are the collateral damage of their sensory survival strategies.

And when they can’t cope, they shut down. Sometimes we call that autism. Sometimes we call it avoidance or defiance. But often, it’s just exhaustion.

They create routines. They memorize minutia. They line things up. They find control in repetition and predictability. And if you disrupt that—if you move one tiny piece of order in their environment—you may find yourself witnessing a meltdown that looks irrational but is rooted in self-preservation.

Their rituals keep them safe. Their routines are the anchors in a storm of sensory chaos.

I believe these children—and adults—need filters. Not punishment. Not scolding. Not assumptions that they’re lazy or oppositional. They need sensory supports that make the world more manageable.

In our practice, we’ve seen many children benefit from low-gain amplification. These are hearing aids programmed to bring speech sounds into sharper focus while reducing background noise and dampening the startle reflex. Just a 5–10 dB difference can change everything.

I’ve used this technology myself. As an adult with difficulty tolerating shirt tags, certain food textures, and complex listening environments, I’ve worn remote microphones to help me focus on one voice in a sea of chaos. I once walked through Times Square alone for the first time, not because I was braver, but because the hearing aids and sunglasses finally filtered the world enough for me to enjoy it. I saw New York as beautiful—not terrifying.

Recently, I worked with a 7-year-old girl who stimmed by picking at her own skin. She had over a dozen medical diagnoses and had only just begun speaking in sentences a year prior. She was not testable in traditional audiology settings due to her inability to follow instructions. But her behavior suggested to me that she was living in a state of near-constant sensory overwhelm.

We fit her with low-gain hearing aids—no more than 10 dB of amplification, based on a normal hearing curve. And the change was immediate. Her stimming stopped. She started vocalizing—singing, humming, fake crying, and laughing at the sound of her own voice as it streamed through her hearing aids alongside her favorite Disney movie.

She refused to remove her iPad, her safety blanket—but now she could hear us talking to her while it played. Her mother reported that, in the car later, the child repeated something her sister had said—and then responded to a question from her parents without further prompting.

We programmed the aids to act as a wireless headset, allowing her to stream media while staying connected to the world around her. It gave her agency. It gave her clarity.

ADHD is real. Autism is real. But both of them are often compounded by the child’s ability—or inability—to regulate sensory input. The ability to participate in school, conversation, play, and life depends not just on diagnosis, but on how well the child can manage their own internal chaos.

When we reduce that chaos—even slightly—everything becomes possible.

Visual Description:

This cartoon-style illustration shows a curly-haired white woman—depicted with soft facial features and black sunglasses—walking confidently through Times Square. She’s wearing a dark top and a brown crossbody bag. Towering skyscrapers and brightly colored billboards surround her, and a vertical sign on the left reads “TIMES SQ.” The sky is muted with warm-toned clouds, and the overall color palette is soft and earthy, giving the chaotic city a calming aesthetic. Her posture is relaxed, and there’s a quiet smile on her face—one of peace, presence, and maybe a bit of triumph.

Why I Chose This Picture:

This image represents a moment of freedom and sensory regulation. It reflects the first time I walked through Times Square alone and unafraid—thanks to the tools I use and recommend every day: hearing aids to filter the noise and sunglasses to soften the glare. It’s not just a walk through a busy city. It’s a visual metaphor for what it means to finally access the world on your own terms, after a lifetime of sensory overwhelm.

I chose this picture because it shows the world how powerful small supports can be when they’re tailored to someone’s real needs. This is not just a snapshot of New York—it’s a personal victory.

Here’s an APA-style reference list (7th edition) in alphabetical order, focused on the overlap between APD, SPD, ADHD, and autism, and sensory-based interventions—excluding DOIs as requested:

References:

Ahn, R. R., Miller, L. J., Milberger, S., & McIntosh, D. N. (2004). Prevalence of parents’ perceptions of sensory processing disorders among kindergarten children. American Journal of Occupational Therapy, 58(3), 287–293.

Ayres, A. J. (2005). Sensory integration and the child: Understanding hidden sensory challenges (25th anniversary ed.). Western Psychological Services.

Ghanizadeh, A. (2011). Sensory processing problems in children with ADHD, a systematic review. Psychiatry Investigation, 8(2), 89–94.

Lane, A. E., Young, R. L., Baker, A. E. Z., & Angley, M. T. (2010). Sensory processing subtypes in autism: Association with adaptive behavior. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 40(1), 112–122.

Riccio, C. A., Hynd, G. W., Cohen, M. J., Hall, J., & Molt, L. (1994). Comorbidity of central auditory processing disorder and attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder. Journal of the American Academy of Child & Adolescent Psychiatry, 33(7), 849–857.