Bullying, or things that have led to my being bullied or otherwise attacked in the past (large groups of teenaged NT males approaching me, 'class clown'-type people who attack others to get laughs, being followed when walking home at night). This is an instinctive fear response in me. I suspect at least part of this is PTSD-related due to being a frequent target of bullies and a victim of both beatings and sexual assaults as a child and a rape that happened almost 4 years ago.
Thumping bass, barking dogs, loud motorcycles, sirens, complex high-frequency sounds, loud and sharp sounds..these are definite sensory triggers that literally make me go into a total "make it stop make it stop make it stop!!!' panic reaction. There is no trauma-related cause for this.. It is totally sensory.
Tight, binding clothing will cause me to go into such an intense meltdown that I've even injured myself while trying to get clothing off. I've dislocated my shoulder twice, cut and scratched myself while trying to get especially tight items off as quickly as possible. Granted, this doesn't happen much now that I am an adult and buy my own clothes, but when I was a kid it was awful! Mum did the clothes shopping, and she always liked her clothing tight and tailored, so she bought the same way when she bought my stuff. Clothing was *the* biggest meltdown trigger during my childhood. I also hated very feminine clothes like dresses and absolutely loathed pink. I preferred to dress in gender-neutral or masculine clothes that were loose and baggy, soft, wash worn, and usually dark colours. As a kid, I hid scissors and knives around the house with which to sabotage clothes Mum bought me which triggered off my sensory issues, and if I was prevented from cutting up especially hated items, I had other ways of destroying clothes I couldn't tolerate... Like stripping off in the driveway and scrubbing a particularly tight, itchy, binding, frilly dress up into the wheel wells of the car in order to get the dress so badly stained with road dirt and engine grease that it could no longer be worn. Once, at the age of six, I even resorted to intentionally urinating in my clothes to be freed of a horrid dress after Mum kept too close an eye on me to allow me to rip up or destroy the dress on the day of one of her friend's wedding. Mum had held on to me from the moment she wrestled me into the hated dress right to the moment she belted the screaming, writhing me into the car, and I knew I'd be stuck wearing the hated, sensory hell dress for hours if I didn't figure out some way to get free of it quickly... so.. pee. It worked! Of course, I got spanked, but the brief sting of a scut on the butt was nothing compared to the absolute hell of a sensory meltdown lasting hours. Mum never believed that my sensory issues were anything more than me being bratty and willful until I was finally formally diagnosed with sensory integration disorder at the age of 21, and she still minimizes how severe it is and how badly it impacts me. She hates that I dress the way I do and still doesn't fully understand that I dress in loose, baggy, soft cottons to mitigate my sensory issues.
Being touched, especially unexpectedly, from my blind side (I'm blind in my left eye), or by someone I really dislike or mistrust will trigger me.. If unexpected or unseen, it feels like a sharp, stinging electric shock and will startle me badly. I have an exaggerated startle reflex and will often raise my arms in an instant, defensive manner to ward off the intrusion. If the touch is from someone I hate or mistrust, the sensation of electric shock is combined with severe, intense, nausea-inducing disgust, and instead of a purely defensive reaction, I will often strike out against the disliked person who touched me, pushing him away or hitting/punching him. I even knocked a guy unconscious after he groped me from my blind side when I was in grade 11. I have one hell of a right uppercut. I generally tell people to avoid touching me unless I say it's ok, and to always make noise when approaching me from the left.