What is neurodivergent burnout?

Burnout is not a moral failing.

Anyone can experience burnout due to chronic stress and long periods of over- or under-stimulation, when external demands consistently overwhelm our capacity to meet them, and our needs are neglected for too long. There may be many factors at play: caregiving stress, occupational challenges, physical illness, or systemic harm, to name just a few examples. Neurodivergent folks can experience burnout for all of those reasons, too, but oftentimes our experiences of burnout have a lot more to do with social and sensory factors.

“Neurodivergent burnout” describes a state of chronic exhaustion related to navigating a world not designed for us. It can involve decreased tolerance for stress, increased sensory sensitivities, loss of learned skills, and decline in ability to function in the ways we’d like to in areas of life such as school, work, relationships, and self-care tasks. Despite the incapacitating nature of neurodivergent burnout, it can be hard to recognize when we’re in it, even when it may be obvious to those around us.

What are some signs of neurodivergent burnout?

• Increased self-isolation and avoidance of social demands.

• Sleeping disturbances, such as sleeping a lot more or less than usual.

• Increased symptoms of anxiety and depression.

• Missing school or work, or seeming to underperform.

• Sudden changes in appearance, such as weight or personal hygiene.

• Unable to keep up with daily living tasks.

• Addictions and self-sabotage, such as relying on substances or social media for stimulation and/or distraction. (I define addiction as anything I can’t say no to.)

What can contribute to neurodivergent burnout?

• Constantly needing to mask differences in order to participate in society.

• Not enough recovery time between social demands.

• Ongoing unmet support needs, such as at work or school.

• Spending too much time in over- or under-stimulating sensory environments.

• Trying to maintain a pace of work that is out-of-sync with energetic capacity.

Recovering from burnout

Neurodivergent burnout is often cyclical, and can be impacted by aging, seasonal shifts, hormonal fluctuations, and changing social or occupational expectations and demands. Recovery is not linear, and it may take months or even years to regain skills or capacity, and/or learn how to adapt to long-term changes in health and abilities. It’s important to start small, go slow, and be really kind to ourselves along the way.

Hey! Remember, burnout is not a moral failing. I have to remind myself of this a lot as I practice self-compassion and self-reflection. I know I’m cycling towards neurodivergent burnout when I notice these questions coming up in my mind:

• “I used to be able to … focus, keep up with chores, travel, keep appointments, etc. Why am I having so much difficulty now? What’s wrong with me?”

• “Why does this sound bother me so much all of a sudden? What’s wrong with me?”

• “Why am I spending so much time on the couch? What’s wrong with me?”

• “Why am I canceling social plans even when I really want to go? What’s wrong with me?”

I know there’s nothing wrong with me, but it’s an effort to offer myself compassion when these questions come up, because I’ve been conditioned to believe there’s shame in struggling, resting, and prioritizing my needs over external demands. Even when I know intellectually that there’s nothing wrong with needing more couch time, messages sneak through that I’m lazy because I’m not doing and producing, and the state of burnout makes it harder to shut down anxiety loops and reframe unhelpful thoughts.

As I consider this current burnout cycle I’m in with the benefit of hindsight and lived experience, underneath the sneaky toxic cultural messages that can make burnout feel shameful, I’m coming to recognize the signs of burnout as just good information. For me, burnout is…

• A cycle that was set in motion a long time ago, primarily by circumstances I didn’t choose.

• An important message that the pace I’m currently moving at is causing harm, and I need to slow down.

• A sign that I need to lean into community care to ask for and accept support.

• An opportunity to learn and grow, when I have access to the conditions for recovery.

How can yoga help?

Yoga is one of the most effective ways I’ve found for creating those conditions for recovery, when practiced in a way that is neurodiversity-affirming and honors my needs. Here are some of the ways the practice of yoga can benefit neurodivergent folks who struggle with cycles of burnout, and everyone else, too!

• Focus on ahimsa (non-harm) encourages self-compassion and cultivates an approach to self-care rooted in lovingkindness. 

• Yoga techniques for nervous system regulation can help to improve anxiety, sleep, and other mental health symptoms.

• Svadhyaya (self-study) can help us rediscover our true unmasked nature, and better understand our sensory and support needs.

• Focus on our wholeness (true Self, Spirit, etc.) offers opportunities to unmask and abide in the joy of being ourselves.

• Regular, consistent practice and routine can help us build momentum and energy for the things that we love, such as engaging with special interests.

• Yoga practices that gently challenge us within our window of stress tolerance can help gradually rebuild our capacity to manage stress in other areas of life.

• Restorative yoga, yoga nidra, and other rest-based practices help with recovery and healing for exhausted mind-bodies.

• Group offerings can provide low-demand opportunities for community care and connection that lean on parallel play over direct social interaction.

I’ll repeat it again: Burnout isn’t a moral failing. Trying to assign blame, whether to myself or external forces is usually not very helpful, because the truth is that it’s complex. And, there is usually something within my control that I can do to disrupt harm and shift out of the cycle, even if it takes many tries to commit to a change that will move me toward recovery. 

Often, this begins with a recommitment to a regular yoga practice, no matter how tiny, and it has to be something low-demand that I enjoy, or at least, don’t mind. A commitment to take three breaths before I get out of bed. A commitment to journaling at least one self-reflective word a day. A commitment to press play on a yoga nidra recording before I turn out the lights at bedtime. Nothing changes if nothing changes, and tiny changes are not to be underestimated, as they ripple out and compound over time until they become a wave that carries us through what once seemed to be an impossible journey back to ourselves. 

Hey! Looking for ways to lean into neurodivergent community care? Check out our offerings: https://www.yogaforneurodiversity.com/offerings