New York Times article on Autistic Burnout

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Tyla Grant, 24, holds down a full-time advertising job, is trying to get a nonprofit off the ground and creates regular content for her podcast, YouTube channel and Instagram. Occasionally, she winds up so fried she can’t speak or get out of bed for days.

Ms. Grant is also autistic. While most people undergo periods of burnout — physical, cognitive and emotional depletion caused by intense, prolonged stress — autistic people, at some point in their lives, experience it on a whole different level. Autistic traits can amplify the conditions that lead to burnout, and burnout can cause these traits to worsen. They may become unable to speak or care for themselves, and struggle with short-term memory. This harms their ability to perform well at jobs, in school or at home.

“It’s the point at which there’s no more of you left to give. The battery’s dead. Tyla’s left the chat,” she said. “Whatever you want from me, you’re not going to get.”

Autistic burnout is a concept already widely accepted in neurodivergent communities, but it hasn’t been formally studied much. Research does show that autistic people have a harder time keeping their heads above water in ways that are similar to burnout, and some experts offer advice on how to deal with it.

A wide range of life stressors contribute to autistic burnout, according to a small 2020 study led by Portland State University researcher Dora M. Raymaker. Those include being forced to hide their autistic traits (often called “masking”), managing the disabling aspects of autism and coping with a world that expects autistic people to perform at the same level as their non-autistic peers.

Participants of the survey described barriers to support, such as having their experiences and differences dismissed by others, a lack of external support and an inability to take breaks.

Beyond this study, there are few published papers about autistic burnout, but similar conditions can help fill out the picture. For instance, in one 2020 study, 20 percent of autistic adults had been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, compared to just under 9 percent of non-autistic adults.

Political reporter Eric Michael Garcia agreed that rest is a key remedy for autistic burnout, and he’s noticed, as he gets older, that it takes him longer to recharge. Mr. Garcia, 30, experienced his first extended period of autistic burnout while covering the 2016 elections. At first he thought he was just working too much, but a debilitating fatigue hung over him for a month.

In his book “We’re Not Broken: Changing the Autism Conversation,” Mr. Garcia wrote that when non-autistic people experience burnout, no one doubts their ability to live independently. But for autistic adults, a burnout state can lead loved ones and medical professionals to question their self-sufficiency, and even suggest they move home with family.

Autistic burnout isn’t a permanent state, however. One of the best ways for anyone to recover from burnout is rest, particularly sleep, according to Amelia Nagoski, the co-author of the best-selling 2019 book “Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Response Cycle.” But autistic people have a harder time sleeping because of their neurological differences, according to a 2019 study.

Autistic people are more likely to sleep for shorter periods of time and experience lower-quality sleep, and they’re more likely to be night owls, the study found. Research on non-autistic adults shows that insomnia is a strong predictor of burnout, suggesting a similar link among autistic people with sleep disorders.

Ms. Grant finds herself making trade-offs when it comes to friendships. When people ask to spend time with her, she often declines, in order to protect her energy. But her autism already strains her friendships. “Just saying ‘no’ isn’t that easy, especially when you’re used to saying ‘yes’ just to keep your friends,” she said.

Nice to see that in the mainstream media.

Thanks for posting it.

My son showed me this article two day ago. Over the past months he is experiencing what the article describes to a "T". Now if only there were available professions who could provide much needed support. Your words ring true to many, both in this community and with those who provide Professional Support.

I was diagnosed with workplace burnout in 2017 — just six months into my first job ever, as a finance lawyer. I immediately began researching workplace burnout. The WHO has recognized burnout as an occupational phenomenon — or, more precisely, a state “resulting from chronic workplace stress that has not been successfully managed — in the 11th Revision of the International Classification of Diseases(ICD-11). Typically, characterized by a deterioration in energy, sleep, performance, memory and concentration, and even health, workplace burnouts can also involve loss of hobbies, socializing, nurturing relationships with loved ones, and even self-care. I seemed to be experiencing most of these. And so, I immediately began the process of switching over to a less-taxing job profile. But my mental health didn’t improve.

Turns out, what I was experiencing was autistic burnout. But because my autism was still undiagnosed, it never occurred to me — or even to the professionals treating me — that what I was experiencing wasn’t, in fact, a classic case of burnout that has almost become an unfortunate rite of passage for young professionals in the post-pandemic world.

Much like the more regular forms of burnout — common among individuals in high-stress jobs or toxic work environments, and even among those in various caregiving roles — that result from chronic stress and consistent overexertion, autistic burnouts, too, can follow periods of intense stress or prolonged exposure to challenging environments. But the stressors and challenging environments that trigger autistic burnouts can include sensory overload, social demands, and changes in routine.

Navigating a world designed for the neurotypical population entails performing a multitude of tasks using skills that the neurotypical population takes for granted. Doing so without any accommodations for their invisible disability can be stress-inducing. And autistic individuals are already more vulnerable to stress, compared to the general population. To add to that, autistic masking — or, the conscious or unconscious suppression of natural responses by people on the autism spectrum aimed at putting on their “best normal” that is, fitting in, in order to avoid being coddled, babied, ostracized, hated on, harassed, or bullied for being different — can induce autistic burnouts, in the long run.

To fulfill their expectations of ‘normal,’ I have to mask myself to my breaking point,” Rishabh Birla, then 25, had told The Swaddle in 2021. “I think they felt I would be able to overcome my struggles after two to three months without realizing I’ll need support for the whole job,” he says, adding that their attitude impacted his ability to perform at his job. “I started hating my work and had feelings of anger and resentment because there was a lack of acceptance, support, and understanding in the workplace. I had many meltdowns and anxiety attacks while at work and during meetings.” For many autistic individuals like Rishabh, masking who they are for prolonged periods of time can lead to autistic burnout, followed by suicidal tendencies, and even the loss of one’s sense of self.

Moreover, despite autism being a legally-recognized disability, autistic individuals are often expected to somehow learn the ropes of a so-called ‘normal’ lifestyle — without taking into account that an autistic skillset can be very different from an allistic (non-autistic) one. “Executive functioning skills [like] planning, organizing, and problem-solving… don[‘t] come easily to autistic people, who can become overwhelmed by having too much to do, uncertainty and chaos… We tend to compensate… by developing routines and rules, so that, rather than having to plan and organize every time, we can apply an existing rule or routine to multiple events [to] make our day-to-day life easier. However, we find it difficult to adapt if we get interrupted or if things change during the day.

In addition to the symptoms associated with regular burnouts, struggling with autistic burnouts can lead people to experience a diminished ability to communicate effectively and regulate one’s emotions, a spike in social difficulties, a heightened struggle with sensory processing in the form of increased sensitivity to sensory stimuli like noise or light, and greater challenges with executive functioning. The symptoms of autistic burnout can be broadly classified into three categories: “chronic exhaustion, loss of skills, and reduced tolerance to stimulus,” as the National Autistic Society in the U.K. puts it. Basically, it becomes even more exhausting to cope with neurotypical expectations.

But taking a break to recover from an autistic burnout isn’t easy — autistic burnouts can last for years, and are often a combination of a multitude of triggers, and since it’s not possible for most of us to go on a reptilian hibernation for months on end, given that we’re constrained to earn a living to sustain ourselves and even interact socially to meet basic needs, at times. Additionally, not knowing how long to pause, and what can be a potential trigger that worsens the burnout, adds to the challenge of hitting pause and taking a breath till one feels better.

Increased sensitivity to sensory stimuli might mean that the activities one enjoyed once — like watching a movie, gaming at an arcade, or simply, going for nature walks — can suddenly become overwhelming, often leaving one with barely any avenue for recreation. Not only that, but enhanced struggles with socializing and communication that autistic burnouts can induce, also means that hanging out with friends and family can begin to take a toll on one’s mental health. Things that can help one cope with a workplace burnout, then, don’t work for recovery from an autistic burnout.

The lack of awareness about neurodivergence, in general, among mental health professionals doesn’t help matters either. “[My] burnout ha[s] gone untreated for so long that I am now living in a perpetual state of exhaustion; burnout has become part of my ‘normal’ functioning now. My mental and physical health is suffering, and my morale is low, yet I have been existing in this way for so long that I am desensitized to the emotional and sensory pain I am constantly experiencing. My attitude has become more pessimistic, and although I am managing to survive each day, I am no longer thinking about my future plans. I may need to seek out professional help to disrupt the burnout cycle,” Bilodeau added.

Autistic burnout, essentially, results from the constant pressure to succeed in the neurotypical world and achieve the same things as neurotypical people — coupled with a lack of support from family and society. Unfortunately, this encapsulates the everyday experience of most autistic individuals, making an autistic burnout almost inevitable. It is, in essence, a debilitating experience, and requires a healthy support system — so one can seek accommodations, take time off, and get support from family and friends — to recover. But in the ableist world that we live in, those can be difficult to come by.