🌿 Before the Burnout: Learning to Catch It Sooner 🌿

Image: shedefined.com

There’s a certain kind of burnout that feels different. Not just “tired” or “a bit stressed.” I’m talking about that heavy, full-body, soul-weary kind of burnout that many neurodivergent people will know all too well. The kind that sneaks in slowly, until suddenly, you can’t do basic things and everything feels like too much.

It took me a long time to realise that this wasn’t just how life had to be. That the cycle of pushing and crashing wasn’t “normal.” That I was burning out, over and over again.

And the truth is, I still catch myself on the edge sometimes.

But I’ve also started noticing the signs a little earlier. I’m learning to listen, to my brain, my body, my sensory world, and make small shifts before everything tips over. I’m sharing some of what helps me here, in case it helps someone else who’s walking this path too.

🌱 1. Noticing the little signs

It rarely starts with a breakdown. For me, it’s tiny things:

• Suddenly everything feels loud

• I forget what I walked into a room for

• I feel irritated by tasks that were fine last week

• Messages pile up and I just... avoid them

• I start feeling disconnected from myself, like I’m watching life instead of living it

These are my early signs now. I try to pay attention to them like little breadcrumbs. They’re not dramatic, but they matter.

🍃 2. Giving myself space to stop trying so hard

When you’re neurodivergent, there’s often this quiet pressure to keep up, with work, social expectations, house stuff, parenting, masking, being “OK.” It’s exhausting.

I’ve started asking myself more often,“What’s actually necessary today?”If the answer is “very little,” that’s OK. Productivity doesn’t equal worth. Sometimes surviving is the achievement.

🌼 3. Building in quiet, even when I feel ‘fine’

This has been a big one. I used to only rest when I was already burnt out, and by then, it was too late. Now, I try to give myself moments of pause every day, even if I think I don’t need them. Just ten minutes of nothing. Closing my eyes. Turning down the volume of the world. No phone. No expectation.

It’s not about luxury, it’s about maintenance.

🌾 4. Taking off the mask, when I safely can

If you know, you know. Masking is part of life for many of us, a way to move through the world without friction. But it’s exhausting.I’m learning that unmasking in safe spaces, even just at home or alone, is powerful. Letting myself stim, move, flap, zone out, not make eye contact, not be “on,” it’s like breathing out after holding it in all day.

I try to make room for those moments now. I protect them fiercely.

🌙 5. Reminding myself I don’t owe everything to everyone

This is still hard. Especially when you care deeply about others and want to show up. But I’ve come to realise that sometimes, choosing myself means I can show up better, later, and for longer.

So I cancel plans. I say no. I stop explaining. And I remind myself, gently, Burnout doesn’t make me broken.It just means I’ve been doing too much, for too long, in a world that asks a lot from brains like mine.

If any of this sounds familiar, maybe you’re close to that edge too. Maybe you're already there.

So here’s your permission slip, from one neurodivergent soul to another:

✨ You don’t have to hit the wall before you rest.

✨ You don’t need a crisis to justify care.

✨ You’re allowed to pause, right now.

Take what you need. Leave what doesn’t fit. And if today just means getting through... that’s enough.

🌿 With warmth, from the bramble path.