Is Autistic Burnout Recovery Possible?
A version of this article was first published in my newsletter The Queer Autistic Newsletter. You can find the original version here.
I remember the first time I read that autistic burnout could last anywhere from months to actual years. I gulped hard because at the time the thought of being years in autistic burnout felt pretty damn depressing. Like many other late diagnosed autistics I had realized that I was autistic as I was in autistic burnout. Looking back I can trace the origins of my autistic burnout through both years of having my autistic needs gone unmet, pushing myself to meet neuronormative standards and that intensive Zoom retreat that I was a part of that pushed me straight into burnout. As I was battling intense fatigue and dealing with loss of skills, I was also coming to terms that I might actually be autistic. As I kept telling myself “I can’t possibly be autistic, right?”, I was dealing with the reality that everything felt so hard. I am forever grateful to my loving mother who dropped off pre-cooked meals from the supermarket and later treated me to a few months of a prepared meal service. While she had no knowledge on autistic burnout, I think she really heard me when I shared that I was simply too exhausted to cook or buy groceries.
Image description: There is a circle image of Tiffany, a white woman with brown hair and brown eyes who is wearing black classes and a blue floral dress, she is smiling. Next to the picture is a quote on recovering from autistic burnout.
It’s been years since that first severe burnout episode and the good news is that I have recovered from it. It took time, exploring the exact care I needed, as well as both big and small life changes. I’ve recovered from it in the sense that I’m not in autistic burnout but I don’t believe that I’m the same person that I was pre-burnout. Whether it’s due to unmasking or losing skills during my time cycling in and out of autistic burnout, there is a very clear difference between who I was pre-burnout and who I am today. Before I was in autistic burnout I had done things that would simply be inaccessible and feel horrible to me today, such as: live abroad in different cities in Spain, work in a classroom, be in groups, go on dates without wearing headphones, be on dating apps without getting overwhelmed, travel. I do believe that it is possible to recover from autistic burnout and I also think autistic burnout recovery depends on a variety of factors like:
Support & resources: Do you have the means to take time off of work? Do you have support and financial resources to help with things that you simply can’t do during burnout? Do you have access to autistic affirming support such as a neurodivergent therapist or coach?
Environment: If your environment contains your burnout triggers, I personally believe it will be very difficult to recover from burnout unless you find accommodations & support to make your environment accessible. Environment could include: where you live, your job, your home life, school/university.
Demands: Burnout recovery is going to look very different for a parent who also works outside the home versus me a childfree self employed autistic who works from home. Do you have the ability to reduce demands, to get support for things that aren’t accessible to you during burnout, to do the bare minimum?
Image description: Over a blue background there is a title written in white text that says “autistic burnout depends on” and then three different colored boxes with the words “access to support and resources”, “your environment and stressors” and “ability to reduce demands.”
After I successfully recovered from my first severe autistic burnout I cycled in and out of autistic burnout for over two years before I made the biggest change of all: moving to the countryside. Looking back I can see that a huge reason I kept cycling in and out of autistic burnout was because I continued be in environments and do things that were actually burnout triggers. I also was very much in the Boom-or-Bust cycle which resulted in me overextending myself and then needing to recover. Living in a city apartment near a busy road meant that I was experiencing chronic sensory pain, which I unfortunately then added to it by using social media to market my business. Trigger on top of trigger! I remember thinking about moving to the country and wondering if I would be really isolated out there. But as I later shared with my therapist: “I’m isolated now! I can’t go outside because if the noise is so horrible INSIDE my apartment, why on earth would I actually go outside where the noise is coming from??” Living in a noisy city meant that I was in survival mode and struggling so much. It often felt like if I wasn’t in active burnout, I was very close to teetering my way on the edge of it. Getting out of autistic burnout honestly involved creating a life that felt supportive and stopping doing things that simply weren’t accessible for me.
Is it a loss of skills or just my unmasked self?
When we talk about autistic burnout you might hear people talk about a loss of skills or “skills regression.” We know that a decline in skills (such as communication, daily self care tasks and executive functioning) is a part of autistic burnout. That could be something like cooking, speaking or self care rituals like washing your face or brushing your teeth. But what happens when you’ve recovered from autistic burnout and find tasks you used to be able to do are still hard or just not possible? I admit that I sometimes find it so confusing to look back at my life pre-burnout and autism diagnosis and think “how the hell did I do that?” But I’ve been coming to the conclusion that perhaps I’m actually framing the question wrong. What feels most interesting is to ask myself: “okay, you used to be able to do that but what was the cost?” I was honestly so high masking that I think I didn’t give myself permission to feel all the ways in which environments, activities and work experiences were taking a very real toll. But by putting on an autistic lens I can see how I’d arrive to the weekend with no spoons left to give, get anxiety over things like phone calls or having to talk to new people, the sensory pain when someone using a leaf blower would startle me out of my sleep straight into sensory overload, how confused I would get when people would use sarcasm or non literal language. Note: I think putting on an autistic lens when we’re in autistic burnout can be so supportive. Even just reminding yourself that being in burnout actually makes a lot of sense based on the context (for example of being high masking and being in unsupportive environments.)
It feels helpful to frame it like that because I sometimes doubt myself and perform little “experiments” that basically consist of me saying “well, I could do it before so maybe I can do it now?” For example: I know that I used to be able to be in groups and I know post burnout that being in groups sends me into a shutdown. So I sometimes try to experiment to see if being in a group is still inaccessible. This often sends me into a shutdown but sometimes it provides valuable information. So I know now that I can be in an online group when people’s mics are turned off, people speak one at a time and there’s a clear structure. But it does take a lot of spoons so it’s not always an accessible option for me. For me a valuable part of my own autistic burnout recovery was getting to know myself, my burnout triggers and using pacing tools to pay attention to my precious spoons. A value I have is to be so kind to myself when I make “mistakes” and find myself in a shutdown or approaching autistic burnout. It’s been 3+ years since my dual autism + ADHD diagnosis and I’m still learning about my neurodivergent needs and the support I need-and that’s okay.
Maybe this is a new way of being?
Image description: Over a pink background there is a quote written in red handwriting that reads: “The truth is that both autistic burnout and a later in life autism diagnosis have changed me. I’m different because I know that I’m autistic, I’ve spent time getting to know my autistic needs, boundaries and my authentic self. But being in autistic burnout has also changed me.” There is a small heart graphic at the top of the graphic.
The truth is that both autistic burnout and a later in life autism diagnosis have changed me. I’m different because I know that I’m autistic, I’ve spent time getting to know my autistic needs, boundaries and my authentic self. But being in autistic burnout has also changed me. I want to name that I don’t look at autistic burnout with a toxic positivity lens of “everything happens for a reason!” I really hate being in autistic burnout, it sucks and it’s disabling as hell. But I can’t deny that autistic burnout recovery has taught me about rest, honoring my capacity, my sensitive neurodivergent nervous system and autistic boundaries4. It also taught me to trust in the small doable steps especially when it feels like nothing is working. Sometimes that looks like doing the bare minimum and taking rest breaks throughout my day. While sometimes the medicine is a weighted plushie on top of me and the sensory bliss of wearing noise cancelling headphones. In 2023 that looked like a short bob haircut so my highly fatigued self could take showers easier. I know that in the years to come I’m going to continue to deepen even more in my understanding of my autistic needs, as well as the care and support that’s kindest for my lovely neurodivergent self.
Getting a later in life autism diagnosis changed my life and gave me the tools, education and support I needed to slowly come home to myself in big and small ways. I am different now and it’s been beautiful, tender and special to get to know who I truly am. I flap my hands and rock back and forth. I delight in special interests that might seem “childish” but are fun and comforting for me. I am incredibly sensory avoidant and have a lot of sensory needs and get delight stim dancing in my kitchen. I validate that post burnout I have limited capacity, I need a lot of rest and breaks-and that’s okay! I’m so proud of the autistic business that I own and the ways I’ve made it accessible for me as a low spoons autistic. Communication and socializing can feel challenging but I know my communication needs and how to advocate for them.
What’s the care you need during autistic burnout?
Whenever I talk with a potential coaching client who is in autistic burnout I’m always careful to name that I don’t know what their autistic burnout recovery will look like. While there are common experiences of autistic burnout, everyone’s autistic burnout experience and recovery journey is going to look different. Which is why as a coach my goal is to support my clients in getting the best care for their autistic burnout with the resources they have. While I wish I could wave a magic wand and heal everyone’s autistic burnout-unfortunately, I simply don’t have that power. Which is why I find myself coming back to these questions as a way to wade through the muck of autistic burnout:
What would be the kindest care for your burnt out self to receive right now?
What are some ways you can make life 2% more accessible or supportive?
What’s one small doable way you can tend to your sensory needs?
If you’re reading this while you’re in autistic burnout my best advice would be to be really kind towards yourself, to get as much support as possible, to do less, to rest even more than you think you need to and to remember that your autistic wellbeing matters so damn much.
Thank you for reading!
I hope this blog post was supportive. If you’d like to share a bit about your experience with autistic burnout-please feel free to share in the comments.
The information contained in this blog post is for general educational and informational purposes only and should not be construed as medical or mental health advice. The information provided is not a substitute for advice from a qualified professional who is aware of the facts and circumstances of your individual situation. We expressly recommend that you seek advice from a professional familiar with your specific situation.
Your autistic healing matters.
I hope this blog post was helpful in your own autistic healing journey. I truly believe that us late diagnosed autistics deserve autistic affirming healing and I hope you have the best practitioners, tools and support for your own healing.
If you’re seeking autistic support and healing, I’d love to support you in my 5 month program The Autistic Mentorship. It includes:
An intensive intake session & healing map to identify your goals and developmental objectives that we’ll work on in our program together.
Three (75 minute) sessions a month.
Lots of support & education: think recap emails + personalized practices sent to your inbox, neurodivergent workbooks and resources and two optional 30 minute check-in calls.
You can find out more about The Autistic Mentorship here.
Tiffany Landry is an autistic coach and trauma resolution practitioner. She works with clients in her program The Autistic Mentorship . Tiffany also writes a free newsletter on Substack called The Queer Autistic Newsletter.