Burnout is a bitch. I think all of us who have experienced it, or are experiencing it, will agree with that. But, how it presents and how long it maintains its hold over us, seems to be as variable as so much else about us.
I can now recognise the many times I have experienced burnout in my life. Each one marked by my constant refrain of, "I'm just tired" and with me doggedly plodding on with my life as best I could. Even now, in the deepest and longest burnout of my life, I am still doing the same.
Of course, I at least know to try and pace myself now. To let the unimportant things slide until their time comes and to spread out what has to be done, to the best of my ability. I know to dedicate time to self-care, to rest and recreation and to acknowledging my needs as an autistic person. This much, realising you are autistic can teach you. It can also help you to spot the signs of burning out sooner and hopefully mitigate its effects that way.
When that's possible, of course. For what caused my current burnout was unfortunately a series of overlapping events that I could not avoid, or do anything about. It was almost as if life chose to keep throwing things at me, each more intense and impossible to avoid, until I broke. But then life can be like that sometimes.
Autistic burnout is, of course, different from normal burnout, in what causes it and how it presents. It is, more often than not, a breakdown of our ability to cope with the demands being placed on us and not with how much we can carry. We are used to carrying insane loads and with having to work so much harder than most other people, just to keep putting one foot in front of the other through life. In fact, I know that I never really rest, not even now. My life is one long and continuous assessment and checking on whether the routines I have in place are being maintained. Whether I have done everything, on what needs to be done and finding new ways to blames myself for why it hasn't been done yet. There is no such thing as not working as far as my brain is concerned. And because I never stop, I don't know how to stop. How to heed the signals of tiredness and exhaustion and how to not knuckle down and continue anyway. It has been the story of my life. In work and everywhere else, always push, push, push.
And perhaps this is why autistic burnout is so common and possibly even inevitable. The sheer effort that life already is. The constant raggedy edge we walk just to get through a day and how in doing this day after day, all we end up doing is teaching ourselves to ignore the warning signs and that our needs are even important. And end up learning instead, that all that really matters is the next plodding step, no matter the load we are already carrying.
