In my early twenties, I faced a formidable foe: a profound period of darkness, a black hole. A hole where I could not make sense of the world or what was happening to me. I was told by professionals that I was having a severe depressive episode.
Newly arrived in the UK, I grappled with a demanding job, a new culture, and language barriers. My eagerness to fit in and belong, to be part of a community, drove me to over-exert myself and that chronic stress was the catalyst of my depression.
It took me a while to emerge from this challenging phase. I believed I had grown and learned from the experience, I picked up life where I left it and got going, never to stop, always on the go. I had places to be, people to meet and please, things to do.
However, life was poised to teach me another lesson. In my thirties, amid significant life milestones – marriage, buying a house, and another demanding job – I found myself revisiting the all too familiar, dark territory of depression. I was back in the hole! How could I not have seen it?
This time, my approach was different. I was proactive and immersed myself in the world of mental health. I was determined to get myself out of the hole and never fall in again. I paused. I took self-care approaches to my well-being, I joined yoga lessons, walked in nature and was very careful what activities I would engage in, not to overexert myself. My determination led me to train as a CBT and NLP therapist. Driven by a desire to understand and help myself, and to be able to share my findings and support others who faced similar struggles.
Despite leaving the shadows of depression behind, I pondered the undercurrents that had swept me into its grasp. It was during a neurodiversity-affirming training session with Monique Mitchelson that a revelation illuminated my path: my battles weren’t with clinical depression but with autistic burnout.
Contrary to depression, in which individuals lose enjoyment in life and activities and experience profound sadness, helplessness and emptiness, I hadn’t lost enjoyment in my activities; instead, I was simply too fatigued to engage with the world. The exhaustion was so profound that even mundane tasks felt insurmountable. Not because of hopelessness or helplessness, but because they demanded more energy than I could muster.
Furthermore, my withdrawal from the world wasn’t due to a lack of enjoyment in people’s company. I have always cherished social interactions. Yet, in certain contexts, like the workplace, socialising meant returning to a place of masking and conforming – a high price to pay. I found solace in nature walks and one-on-one chats with close friends and family.
The line between autistic burnout and depression can sometimes blur, as both conditions share symptoms like exhaustion and withdrawal.
Autistic burnout, a concept little recognised in academic literature but well known within the autistic community, is a debilitating condition marked by exhaustion, withdrawal, executive functioning problems, and increased manifestation of autistic traits. Research indicates that autistic burnout arises from societal expectations, an overstimulated nervous system, a lack of respite, and the need to mask autistic traits in a neurotypical world.
Reflecting on my past, I wish I had this knowledge in my early twenties. It would have simplified my journey, but then, I wouldn’t be the person I am today – knowledgeable, empathetic, and driven. Life, indeed, is a journey of continuous learning and experiences.
This personal journey has fuelled my mission and passion in life – a special interest in learning about the human mind and discovering various ways to help others lead happy, fulfilling lives.
In my quest to support others, I often ponder – what protective factors support autistic individuals and help them avoid autistic burnout? Based on my experience and years of listening and working with others, I’ve gathered a few strategies:
1. Practise Self-Care and Minimise External Stimuli: Reducing sensory overload is crucial, prioritising sleep, movement, hydration and nutrition. Feeding the mind as well as the body was key to restoring health.
2. Set Boundaries: Saying No to others meant I could say yes to myself. I didn’t see it as a selfish act but as self-responsibility, self-respect and an act of self-love. I owed it to myself if I wanted to get better.
3. Engage in Special Interests: Recharge your batteries through your special interests. I always found that engaging in what gave me joy, helped me to recharge my batteries. I would feel more able to cope with demands after a couple of hours of quiet time doing something I really enjoyed.
4. Meet Physical Needs Simply: Simplifying meals and setting reminders for basic needs can save energy.
5. Stim Freely: More frequent stimming can be an effective way to self-regulate during burnout.
6. Educate and Advocate: Gathering knowledge has always served me in my journey. Having self-awareness and being able to put into words what I need to say and how I can advocate for myself has helped me steer away from burnout.
In sharing these insights and personal reflections, I aim to contribute to a broader dialogue on neurodiversity and mental health, inviting others to share their experiences and strategies for coping. Together, through awareness and collective action, we can pave the way toward a more understanding and inclusive society.
If there are topics you’d like to learn more about, feel free to ask. I’m always ready to explore and share knowledge. You can also read my other articles.
