Scheduling Unscheduled Time

I don’t honestly know if this is specifically autistic or not, but the structure and value of my unscheduled time is of utmost importance and even minor disruptions to that time can be catastrophic. This sounds dramatic, I’m sure, but if you’re here, maybe you’ve found the same is true of you.

Unscheduled time is not the same thing as “Free Time.” When someone asks you, “What do you do in your free time?” they’re not asking you about this time.. they’re asking what you do for hobbies—what planned activities you do on your weekend. For me, that’s every Sunday from 4 PM to 6 PM Pacific Time, when I’m live on Twitch. Or it’s going to the library with my kids—which is open on Sunday! I was shocked.

But no—this is something else. Unscheduled Time is what I call the time when I schedule nothing. It’s scheduling nothing. Maybe that time is from 11 AM to 1 PM on Monday. What am I going to do in that time? Nothing. What am I actually doing in that time? I really just let go of control and let whimsy take over. Today, for example, my Unscheduled Time was from 10 AM to 11 AM—dentist appointments prevented any more than that. During my unscheduled time, I walked about sixty laps around my apartment, talked to myself about all the things that bothered me this week, I did dishes, wasted a phone scammer’s time, shopped for cloaks, explored Spotify’s new AI playlist feature, cut my hair, and added peanut butter to my online cart before deciding I didn’t want to place an order today.

Unscheduled Time is my way of creating a controlled dump of everything going on in my head so I can clear out the leftovers from the week and try to start next week fresh. I can’t do that if my time is scheduled, so I need to unschedule it. Wow, I can tell search engines are going to have fun with this post.

It’s no surprise, then, that I rely heavily on this method of processing thoughts. And further in the “no surprises here” category is the consequence of having that time interrupted. Having that time interrupted might be a call from the school to pick up one of my kids, a knock at the door that requires a social interaction, a fire alarm, or a loud motorcycle passing by. It might seem that with such a random list of activities performed, interruptions would be less disruptive, but it’s important to convey that all of these seemingly unconnected things are all the clutter in my brain, and this is how I clear the clutter—deal with one at a time, in sequence, uninterrupted by outside factors.

How does one protect such time?

Clear boundaries are a new thing for me. Like anyone, I had boundaries before I got diagnosed with autism, but I was never very good at communicating or justifying them. As I began exploring my life from an autistic lens, I realized how important boundaries were, but especially how important it would be to properly communicate them. I spend most of my time at work and home, so those are the places I started. The most relevant boundary I built is “text before call, unless it’s an emergency.” This way, not only do I know that when the phone rings, I absolutely have to answer it, but it means I can prepare myself for a non-emergency call. It’s not me trying to avoid talking to my colleagues or family—it’s about understanding that every call takes a mental toll, and I can better manage that if I know who is calling, when, and why.

Clear boundaries can help prevent the buildup of brain clutter and can help you stay in the unscheduled zone, but it also requires clear communication to be effective. You can’t just go around talking to yourself in this world; it’s not well received. Moving rapidly from task to task looks bizarre from the outside. So, ensuring that you communicate directly with the people who might be impacted—spouses, children, Uncle Reginald. Whoever is in your life that might be concerned enough to interrupt you to check if you’re okay.

Autistic Meltdowns / Shutdowns

I have both meltdowns and shutdowns, and they’re just.. awful.

But in both cases, clearing the buildup of clutter has been instrumental in managing the symptoms that lead to meltdowns and shutdowns. I’ll never be able to completely get rid of the noise the grass makes, but tools like noise-cancelling headphones and YouTube Music’s dozens of hours of rain help me get through the week. But the bright lights, supermarket music, work chatter, and every notification sound my phone makes but I can’t turn off notifications because I’ll miss something important.. it all needs a place to go at the end of the week so I can start the whole thing over again the next week.

Fuck.

Since I began scheduling unscheduled time, I have felt significantly better. There’s more work to do—there always is. But it’s a promising start to what could be a long-term solution.