Autistic burnout is a deep exhaustion that is different from regular burnout. It makes people feel extremely tired, affects their ability to make decisions and communicate, and heightens their reactions to sensory and emotional experiences. This burnout can last for months and might include intense episodes of crisis. Unlike other kinds of burnout, autistic burnout tends to linger and come back, often only allowing for a bit of recovery.
Chronic pain and illness quotes are scattered across social media, capturing widespread attention. But what makes these quotes so appealing? In those tough moments of dealing with chronic pain or illness, people often search for comfort—something that can uplift their mood, offer hope, and provide a sense of connection.
Discovering your neurodivergence later in life can be a transformative experience. It often sets you on a journey to find techniques and support that truly align with who you are. This journey focuses on learning to unmask, understanding and articulating your needs, and ultimately embracing your most authentic self. We may have spent years believing we are lazy, dramatic, emotionally weak, incapable, bad at parenting, bad at relationships, bad at life- just not good enough: our identities built around intense self-criticism.
Sorting through our thoughts and feelings about what’s happened in the past can feel like a huge task. It’s easy to get stuck in a loop, finding it tough to make sense of our emotions: writing it all down can really help!
Do you often find yourself feeling drained after social interactions? If so, you're not alone—and it's not because there's something wrong with you. For many with AuDHD, a combination of Autism Spectrum Disorder and ADHD, relationships can be particularly exhausting. Understanding this dynamic can help alleviate the shame that often accompanies these feelings.
Living with prosopagnosia, or face blindness, as an autistic individual is an experience that can often be misunderstood. Imagine walking down the street, and a familiar face approaches—but to me, it’s just another face in the crowd. I might pass by without a word, hesitate to engage, or scramble to connect the dots using clues like a person's hairstyle, voice, or the context of the encounter. It’s not about being aloof or uncaring; my brain simply interprets faces in a distinctive way.
I captured this image of a fallen tree during my visit to the Lake District. Despite having its roots torn from the ground by a storm, this tree has not only survived but has also thrived. I believe it serves as a powerful metaphor for our own lives: unexpected events can disrupt our way of living, often leaving us feeling overwhelmed.
