I could pretend anxiety didn’t exist until I stepped in the car.
First, it was a queasy stomach as tension crept across my abdomen and into my chest. I tapped the steering wheel with staccato fingers, taking deep breaths to center myself. I yelled at drivers who ignored my personal rules, not that it helped. It got worse as I crested the bridge, despite the beautiful lakeside and surrounding city. Nothing could stop the impending dread before I stepped foot through that door. I could feel my life slipping through my fingers and the harder I tried to hold on, the more it felt like bailing out a sinking ship with a teacup.
It was harder to tolerate noises and sensations I usually had no problem with. Noisy dogs were too much, and pain from loud bass became my personal hell. I couldn’t stand the feeling of compression from leggings or cool air on my skin despite the Texas heat. I couldn’t concentrate. My memory was an even bigger pile of garbage than usual. My sanity unraveled as I struggled to take care of my dogs. I was exhausted after doing the smallest task, but didn’t listen when my body and mind screamed at me to stop. I didn’t know how to, so I crashed headlong into yet another failure.
No matter how hard I tried, I just… couldn’t. I didn’t have a name for what was going on then, but I do now: burnout.
What is neurodivergent burnout, and how does it differ from work-related burnout?
Burnout is apathy and exhaustion brought on from chronic stress. You give it your all and keep failing until you give up.
Chronic stress causes high cortisol levels and dysregulation within the adrenal system. As we’re exposed to it, chemical messengers flood our system, triggering our fight/flight/freeze/fawn response. Over time, it wears down our mind and body, causing everything from depression, addiction, heart disease, and even triggering autoimmune disorders.
Work-related burnout comes from a toxic or traumatic work environment, unsustainable workload, or no support at home. It builds up until we can’t take it anymore, but with enough rest, therapy, and refocusing on other important areas of our life, we get over it.
Now imagine if this wasn’t one area of your life, but everything. Chores, commitments and obligations always fall short of your expectations and those around you. You’re told to be more spontaneous even though a change in plans feels like a rug has been pulled out from under you. Your spouse is both annoyed and mystified because you can’t find your keys but you can remember where they left their water bottle. You’re annoying because you’re too literal and say exactly what you mean without subtext. You clean like Tigger hopped up on caffeine but the end result isn’t actually clean, something you’ve heard over and over by your parents, roommates, and partners.
You’ve earned the label of easygoing, even though you’re in a constant state of panic. It’s easier to go with the flow and shove all the “wrong” parts of yourself so far down you no longer know who you are or how you feel. You’re not genuine around anyone, ever. You’ve become a people pleaser to save yourself from shame.
The mask eventually cracks. The treadmill of life is going too fast, even though you hold on for dear life. Your bucket of woe overflows and you implode.
There’s exhaustion, and then there’s… this.
Neurodivergent burnout is marked by extreme exhaustion, dysregulation of emotions, anxiety, and depression that destroys our ability to carry on daily tasks. It’s like going through your daily life with a bad case of the flu or Covid, except there’s no virus making you feel this way.
You used to be able to handle kids, a full-time job and your spouse, and now you can’t get out of bed. The smell of food is nauseating, but somehow you’re expected to feed yourself.
You stink because you haven’t showered, even though you know it will make you feel better. As the gulf between “want to” and “can” gets wider, exhaustion gets worse. Shame and panic attacks become routine.
There are moments where you feel more like yourself, but they disappear the moment you play catch up on all of the people and things you’re neglecting. Watching yourself wither on the vine is terrifying, especially as days turn into months, or even years. Becoming this disabled, even if it’s temporary, feels like a profound loss.
Burnout isn’t a one size fits all experience. Our unique neurology affects how we break down and cope, making the experience unique among autistic people, ADHDers, and AuDHDers.
Autistic burnout
Autistic burnout is caused by the stress of dealing with painful or distressing sensory stimuli, masking, and the daily pressures of life piling up until the dam breaks. Once that happens, basic tasks become impossible, and every annoying noise, smell, or texture gets cranked up to eleven. Things you were able to do or tolerate suddenly become unbearable. Meltdowns happen over seemingly insignificant things.
A grocery store with bright lights, aisles of decision paralysis, and people becomes a weekly visit to hell, taking at least a day to recover from. Life shrinks to nothing, and a robust support system made up of medical professionals and trusted people (with the occasional social worker thrown in for flavor) is vital for healing.
For those of us with chronic illnesses, symptoms get worse as we struggle to cope. Occasionally, burnout can trigger new diseases like fibromyalgia.
Autistic burnout is the only one recognized with clinical criteria: chronic exhaustion, increased sensory sensitivity, and a loss of skills like thinking, remembering, and planning for three months or more. It can last years, and sometimes leads to permanent losses in ability and tolerance.
This is especially frustrating for those of us with low support needs who don’t get diagnosed until we’re already deep in burnout. Since we mask so well, we don’t have much to fall back on. Without solid support systems, our crash-outs hit even harder.
ADHD burnout
ADHD burnout strongly resembles work-related burnout, except it’s caused by the stress of masking ADHD symptoms. For us, our impulsivity, inattention, and hyperactivity get worse. Overcommitted schedules fall apart because we can’t keep up. Motivation becomes scarce, things that used to be easy are suddenly impossible, and it’s harder to control our emotions. Time blindness and procrastination further erode our lives and confidence.
Chaotic organization systems suddenly fall out from under us. You blame yourself for never finishing anything. What’s the point when it’s only going to end up in the graveyard of half finished projects and good intent?
Work and school take the brunt of it, because no matter how hard we try, we can’t concentrate. We forget projects, deadlines, and our stupid keys (again), no matter how many reminders or systems we set up. As we feel the weight of failure, exhaustion takes hold and we ask ourselves, “Why bother? We’re only going to screw it up again.”
Occasionally, we get bursts of inspiration, and we scramble to get some or all of the things we’ve neglected done. Our bosses and loved ones exclaim, “Finally!” which makes our monumental effort feel like failure. We overcompensate by overcommitting until once again, we’re unable to manage and the stress from failing again leads to worsening exhaustion.
AuDHD burnout
AuDHD burnout has features of both autistic and ADHD burnouts. Like autistic burnout, everything is too loud, too sharp, too… much. We overreact over the slightest change to our routine, and can’t remember what we did a minute ago, let alone our next appointment or deadline.
Our impulsivity leads to volatile emotions or engaging in risky behaviors we normally wouldn’t. On the surface, it resembles bipolar disorder, but without mania or hypomania. Instead of buzzing thoughts and grandiose ideas, we’re exhausted to the point we can’t move.
Worst of all, have a twisted mirage of recovery when inspiration strikes. It disappears as quickly as it arrived, leaving us in a losing game of catch up. Our obligations, housework, and job performance remain out of reach no matter how hard we try. Meltdowns, which may have been rare, become frequent and losing control in a puddle of tears or feral rage is terrifying. We can’t seem to find the words for what’s wrong.
People with both autism and ADHD are less likely to get diagnosed as children, leading to weak support systems when we crash. We still need help when we burn out, although it can be harder to get since we mask well until we can’t, leaving our loved ones as confused as we are when we fall apart.
The burnout cycles
Burnout isn’t linear, it’s cyclical. We begin at an unsustainable level of functioning until we break, followed by a crash, slowly building back to a functional baseline, overcommitment, and inevitable collapse . The cycles look different for each:
Autism
- Demands are unsustainable
- Prolonged stress without adequate support leads to overwhelm
- Severe fatigue and meltdowns
- Demands are reduced
- Energy and function slowly improve, which leads to increased demands
ADHD
- Inattention and impulsivity lead to failure
- Stress and overwhelm
- Exhaustion
- Rest
- Impulsivity and hyperactivity lead to another burst of energy
AuDHD
- Masking leads to overcommitment
- Lack of support leads to a “tough it out” mentality, masking, and overwhelm
- Increased sensory sensitivities lead to irritability and meltdowns
- Exhaustion leads to physical and mental collapse
- Forced rest leads to another burst of energy
Once we feel better, it’s natural to try to take on the duties and obligations we had before, but this only leads us back into the cycle. We have to recognize our limits and let go of shame, which is easier said than done. For me, the experience is a lot like coming to terms with my own chronic illnesses. I had to let go of “normal” and embrace “sustainable”.
It’s okay to grieve. It’s okay to get mad. You’re not broken. You are you, with gifts and brilliance the world needs, even if you don’t always see it.
Next week, we’ll look at how to recover and rebuild a sustainable life.
Have you ever experienced this kind of burnout? I’d love to hear your story in the comments.
Amy Writes Things 