How do you know if you have synesthesia?
<EditorsNote> I’m on a mission to further the conversation for people who are late diagnosed with Synesthesia. Thus, I’m asking a lot of questions … here are some of the answers … </EditorsNote>
@EthanParker: When I manage to dial down my ever-buzzing ADHD brain and truly sink into a piece of music, it's like stepping into another world. I see music unfold in real-time, with every instrument, voice, and pitch painting vibrant streaks of color across the canvas of my mind.
It's like watching a live show of music notes being penned down, each frequency band weaving its own colorful thread through the melody.
It's fascinating because no matter how complex the piece - from a rock band's four distinct parts to the intricate layers of an orchestra - my mind captures it all, each element a vivid line contributing to this dynamic, moving art piece.
As a music major with over a decade of study under my belt, I sometimes wonder if my synesthesia has morphed into a unique form of musical notation, allowing me to "see" the sounds in a way that intertwines with my academic and personal journey in music.
Yesterday, I had this fascinating chat with someone who experiences audio-color synesthesia. Mid-conversation, I just had to ask the question, "Do you ever 'taste' blue?" because, believe it or not, I do. And not just blue, but green, yellow, and red at times too.
For me, sugar is like a burst of pink, and salt feels like tiny white sparks on my tongue. The smoothie my roommate whipped up was undeniably "very green with a citrusy zing." But here's where it gets puzzling – the whole "citrusy" bit. I mean, I taste flavors the regular way too. Steak and most meats don't really paint a color for me, but the chicken I had today? Vividly red in flavor. Sweet and salty stuff usually pops with color. So, yeah, I'm a bit stumped. It doesn't all add up, does it?
And then there's pain. Sometimes, pain flashes white or red before my eyes, but I've brushed it off as nothing unusual. Yet, the headache I'm nursing right now? Colorless. Makes me wonder, is this a form of pain-color synesthesia, or is it just typical to see colors with certain types of pain? I tried digging up some info but only stumbled upon more complex forms of this phenomenon, nothing that directly answered my query.
But the real game-changer for me has been uncovering motion-sound synesthesia. No second guesses here – I'm positive I've got it. It's like I've cracked a code in my own brain. Why a bird's flapping wings make a sound even through a closed window, or why silent gifs seem to come with their own soundtrack. Every movement has its own tune, audible or not. Finally piecing this together has been nothing short of an epiphany for me.
@Lilyturner: Alright, here's the deal with me:
When emotions hit me hard, like when I'm engulfed in sadness, it's not just a feeling – it's like being submerged in a deep, dark, opaque blue.
Letters pop out in colors for me; for instance, 'M' has always been draped in purple.
Memories get tagged with colors too. There's this one time in the metro – the whole memory is painted in a specific hue for me.
Even people get their own color. Like this one girl I met, she's enveloped in the same color every time I think of her.
Music is a whole other canvas – parts of a song morph into vibrant color lines that twist and turn with the melody. Sometimes, I don't even recall the tune, just the colors, and I instantly know which song it is.
Once, in a movie theater munching on popcorn, I blurted out how much I loved this 'green thing' I was eating. In my head, it wasn't popcorn I was thinking about, but a vivid fluorescent green.
Fast-moving cars or any zipping object? They streak past as vibrant color lines, making me go "whoa!"
At times, it feels like I've got my own color-coded language. When I mull over certain situations, people, or anything really, my thoughts are drenched in colors – be it shapes, lines, or even opaque dots.
Ever since I was little, expressing myself without colors felt incomplete. A black and white letter seems to miss something crucial without a splash of color to truly convey its essence.
@ChloeCampbell: I have always felt/visualized the calender year as a square that feels like it surrounds my body/inside of my head,
It is not a 3D object but it is 2D and all the months have always been in the same place, ie January would be the right top corner of the square with its own "square", and December would be right under January but at the same time its in the bottom left corner of the square kinda like a board game.
However I do not see any other dates like this really, years I visualize just as a timeline in my head in order, days again just a separate object that I visualize in order, like 7 squares all right next to each other. The color is faint and changes often for both the months and days.
I don't see centuries or anything else really as its own block.
I don't really know how to explain it, is this just a weird method of visualization or is this mild spatial synesthesia? I say mild because it seems others visualize entire centuries and what not at once.
What Triggers Synesthesia?
Daily existence, for a synesthete, is the reality in which the senses are cross-wired and hence paint the world in weird colors of experience. But exactly what is it that triggers such extraordinary sensory combinations? Let's explore its triggers.
Is Synesthesia genetic or learned?
While existing research gives the indication that synesthesia can be inherited within families, it poses problems in terms of defining the genetic mechanism of this sensory painting. Research has shown patterns in families with two or more synesthetes, suggesting that some genetic changes may predispose certain people to this condition. However, what these genetic markers are and how exactly they produce synesthesia are questions still under active research.
The root of synesthesia is the unique wiring of the brain. For synesthetes, the divisions between sensory areas have been observed to be more porous, permitting unusual cross talk between regions normally more separated. It is suggested that this neural connectivity is the result of either an abundance of neural connections (hyper-connectivity) or a lessening of inhibitory mechanisms of such connections. For example, when a synesthete hears a particular note of music, activation occurs not only in the auditory cortex but also surprisingly activates the visual cortex with the consequence of seeing colours.
The activation of synesthesia relates to external stimulus.
For some auditory-visual synesthetes, a particular note, chord, or piece of music will stimulate powerful visual experiences. For grapheme-color synesthetes, letters, numbers, or words may bring forth colors. These triggers are extremely individual and every synesthete has their own unique set of stimuli which will trigger their synesthetic responses.
A really interesting thing about synesthesia is that emotion can be the very trigger that starts a synesthetic perception. Emotional states might bring about enhancement or changes in the synesthetic experience, which goes to show a rather complex interplay between emotional processing and sensory perception. For example, a synesthete may hear a piece of music not only in colors, but that the tones and patterns developed are influenced by what type of mood they were in at the time of listening.
Age of onset for synesthetic experiences in early childhood and development over time are also important clues for identifying the triggers of synesthesia. In many cases, synesthetic experiences begin during early childhood, although it has been reported that adults may consider their first synesthetic perceptions as far back as their earliest childhood memory. These experiences may develop, change, or even decrease over the course of one's life, based on patterns of neural development and plasticity in the shaping of synesthetic perceptions.
It should be noted that synesthesia is very individualistic, with each synesthete having their own personal "palette" of sensory blends. That being said, the triggers for synesthesia differ significantly from person to person, adding up to a rich tapestry of experiences that don't have any one-size-fits-all explanation.
In short, the causes of synesthesia are as diverse and complex as the experiences themselves. From genetic pre-dispositions and unique neural wirings to external stimuli, emotional states, developmental factors, and individual differences, a number of factors seem to conspire to create the synaesthetic landscape. The more we go into this fascinating phenomenon, the more we learn not just about synesthesia itself but about the work of our human brain and the many possibilities connected with it.
