Autistic burnout… something I had heard about but never considered myself to have gone through. Until it hit me with full force.
When people hear “burnout,” they might think: “Well, everyone goes through that. It’s just life, it’s not only autistic individuals.”
What they don’t realise is that autistic burnout is on a totally different level.
Late Diagnosis and Unmasking
As I’ve mentioned before, I was diagnosed autistic and ADHD in 2024 at the age of 29. Since then, I’ve been trying to work out who I am and who the mask I created to fit into society is. It might sound cheesy, but that’s the reality of life as a late-diagnosed neurodivergent person. I want to feel free to be my authentic self, but this process has been physically and emotionally draining. It’s affected me more than I realised.
The Military Life Layer
Layer that with the realities of military life: big posting transitions, moving your entire life and normality to a completely different area, starting again. Sometimes, this can be a benefit, especially when you’re in a location you don’t like. But it’s sad when you love where you are and are not fully ready for a new start. A piece of your heart stays in that posting. That was the case for me when we left Kenya. But regardless of how you feel, you have to move on. The army doesn’t wait for you to be ready.
Emotions, Suppression, and Unmasking
Not fully understanding your emotions is common for autistic individuals; I always thought I was good at recognising mine. Turns out, I’m really not. I’m good at suppressing them and pretending they’re not there. But then I get confused when I feel a strange way and don’t understand why. The smallest thing can set me off, without even realising that I have been holding in my meltdowns. Does anyone else experience this? I’m guessing that many highly masking neurodivergent individuals will understand what I mean.
This is part of masking. I’m so used to hiding my emotions so that I don’t come across as “dramatic,” “intense,” or “strange.” But by doing this, we can fall deeper into burnout without realising it. Through constantly suppressing our authentic reactions and being hypervigilant about how we’re perceived, it’s no surprise that we become so burned out. It’s as if we’re always in a reality show, performing in a way we think society sees as “normal”, so we don’t get figured out as being different.
When Burnout Hits
With a new location move comes new everything: shops, jobs, accents, houses, and routines. For neurotypical individuals, this might feel exciting (I’m presuming – correct me if I’m wrong!). But for me, as an AuDHD person, it was overwhelming to say the least. New social expectations, communication differences, sensory overload, job expectations and struggles with routine.
I didn’t realise I was in autistic burnout until basic tasks suddenly felt impossible. For many autistic people, this can look like struggling to shower, drive, or regulate emotions. The world feels turned up to maximum volume, making you want to curl up into a ball and hide. Appetite disappears, and panic attacks resurface. Even now, it’s not easy for me to reflect on. Autistic burnout is overpowering.
The Seriousness of Autistic Burnout
I wanted to write this post because autistic burnout is serious. It’s not just the feeling of being exhausted.
It can mean:
- Skill regression (loss of executive functioning, even the ability to talk)
- Being unable to leave the house because of social or sensory demands
- Incredible exhaustion (physical, mental, emotional) that lasts for months, even years.
- Heightened sensitivity to sensory inputs (sight, smell, touch, hearing, taste)
It’s incredibly scary and often happens to highly masked autistics because of masking.
What I’ve Learned
Since coming out of autistic burnout, I truly believe one of the main reasons highly masked autistics go into it is because we’re so used to just getting on with life, handling everything the neurotypical way. But our brains are not wired that way. Eventually, the brain and body break down; they can no longer cope, and we’re forced to rest. And rest really is the main way to recover.
Moving Forward
This is why it’s so crucial to understand your neurodivergent brain and what works best for you. But most importantly, to advocate for yourself. To voice to others what you need to succeed and to protect yourself from burnout. Yes, it’s uncomfortable and vulnerable, but having suitable accommodations in place is what helps us thrive.
It’s also challenging when you’re late diagnosed, because you’re still figuring out your own brain. And what works for one person may not work for another.
As the saying goes: “When you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met ONE autistic person.”
Recovery didn’t happen overnight; it took me around 3 months to fully recover. For some, it can take years.
If you’re worried that you might be heading towards autistic burnout, try one small change this week: give yourself permission to rest for at least 15 minutes a day, reflect on your day – what went well, what did you find challenging, and what could you do differently tomorrow to help yourself. By making this small change, you stay aware of what’s happening internally, something we often overlook until it’s too late.
This is just the start of what I want to explore on autistic burnout. Understanding ourselves and confidently advocating for our needs is what can prevent us from blindly entering a state of burnout.
If you’re reading this and it resonates with you, you’re not alone.
Always remember, whatever you’re going through right now, you’ve got this!
Chloe x