When Autistic Burnout Meets Ho-Ho-Ho: Understanding Autistic Burnout During the “Most Wonderful Time of the Year”

The holiday season is here. For many people, this means joy, celebration, connection, and cheer. But for many of us, especially those who are neurodivergent or who have experienced complex trauma, the holidays can be more of a grueling endurance test.

If you arrived at this holiday season already running on empty, you’re not alone. Between economic uncertainty, political turmoil, increasing workplace demands, and the accumulated weight of the past few years post-Covid, many of us showed up for the holidays in a state of profound exhaustion. Even many people for whom this is their favorite time of year are feeling drained and anxious as 2025 draws (staggers? sputters?) to a close.

And if you’re neurodivergent – autistic, ADHD, AuDHD, PDA, and so on – the holidays can hit especially hard. When complex trauma enters the mix, especially relational trauma connected to the very people we’re expected to spend time with over the holidays, this time of year can be anything but jolly.

Why the Holidays Are Particularly Challenging for Neurodivergent People

The holiday season is essentially a perfect storm of everything that dysregulates the neurodivergent nervous system:

Sensory overwhelm. Flashing lights, crowded stores, loud music, unfamiliar foods, temperature changes, scratchy holiday sweaters – the sensory demands of the season are relentless.

Social exhaustion. Extended family gatherings, work parties, neighborhood events, and endless small talk drain social batteries that may already be depleted from a year of masking and navigating a neurotypical world.

Disrupted routines. The predictable structures that help many of us stay regulated get turned upside-down in favor of travel, special events, and schedules that change day by day.

Executive function demands. Gift buying (and receiving), meal planning, travel coordination, and managing multiple social obligations all require executive function resources that are often in short supply for those with ADHD, autism, or both.

Anticipatory stress. For many neurodivergent people, the nervous system begins activating in expectation of sensory, social, or executive function demands long before the event actually happens. We don’t just experience the stress of the holidays, we experience weeks of anticipatory stress leading up to them.

Family might be complicated. Whether you’re neurodivergent or not, the “ideal family” might be far from what you actually experience. Family gatherings – even for those who are able to be with loved ones over the holidays, which is not everyone – can be more like The Godfather than It’s a Wonderful Life.

Understanding the Difference Between “Regular” Burnout and Autistic/ADHD Burnout

“Burnout” has become such a casually used term that its reality has become watered down. I wish more people understood that true burnout from chronic, toxic stress is not trivial for anyone. It’s a real physiological state with serious consequences for health, relationships, and functioning. But autistic and ADHD burnout is qualitatively different from what neurotypical people typically experience.

For neurotypical individuals, burnout usually results from prolonged work stress, excessive demands, or inadequate rest. Recovery often involves taking time off, setting better boundaries, and rebalancing priorities. With rest and some lifestyle adjustments, most people bounce back within weeks or months.

Autistic burnout is a completely different beast.

Autistic burnout is a state of profound physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion that stems not just from overwork, but from the chronic stress of navigating a world that wasn’t designed for how our brains work. It’s the cumulative toll of masking, of processing sensory input that overwhelms us, of translating social cues that others read automatically, of compensating for executive function differences, and of repeatedly experiencing environments that don’t accommodate our needs.

The symptoms of autistic burnout can include:

Increased sensory sensitivity – everyday inputs that were once tolerable become overwhelming or even painful

Emotional exhaustion – feeling drained, apathetic, or needing significantly more alone time than usual

Cognitive difficulties – challenges with memory, concentration, and executive function that go beyond typical tiredness

Physical fatigue – profound exhaustion that doesn’t improve with rest

Reduction in skills – temporary loss of coping mechanisms, communication abilities, and self-care capacities that may have taken years to develop

Research suggests that autistic burnout is linked to the chronic stress response combined with the heightened sensory sensitivities characteristic of autism. Chronic stress affects areas of the brain involved in emotion regulation, sensory processing, and executive function. For those of us whose brains are already working overtime to process the world, this can lead to a kind of complete system shutdown.

I think of it like the “spinning beachball” a computer shows when a program is stuck in a loop and stops responding. Unfortunately, humans don’t come with the option to “Force Quit” and then restart the app.

What makes autistic burnout particularly challenging is that recovery from autistic burnout doesn’t follow the same timeline as “regular” burnout. It often requires not just rest, but significant reduction in demands – what researchers call “subtractive recovery.” Capacity returns only when the nervous system experiences sustained relief from the things that depleted it in the first place.

ADHDers have their own, less well known version of burnout, which is also no joke.

ADHD burnout, like autistic burnout, is a state of profound mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion that stems from the ongoing strain of living with ADHD in a world not built ADHD brains. Just like autistic burnout, it leaves an ADHDer drained and struggling to function. Tasks that were once routine can feel impossible, especially after extended masking and chronic stress have pushed the nervous system past its limits.

At the same time, ADHD burnout has its own distinct flavor. The constant mental effort spent on executive function (the daily work of staying organized, on time, and focused) creates a relentless cognitive strain that can accelerate burnout. The emotional rollercoaster of ADHD, big feelings that surge and crash, also tends to intensify when one is exhausted, leading to irritability and emotionally rawness.

Additionally, ADHD’s hallmark impulsivity can fuel a boom-and-bust pattern of burnout: overextending by saying “yes” to too many commitments or hyperfocusing on a project for hours, and then hitting a wall of exhaustion. This cycle of frantic activity followed by collapse is a bit different from the more gradual, cumulative overwhelm often seen in autistic burnout.

The Allostatic Load Problem

A concept that is crucial for understanding why neurodivergent burnout is different is called “allostatic load.” (Note: this is unrelated to the term “allistic,” referring to neurotypical people.)

Allostatic load refers to the cumulative biological wear and tear caused by chronic activation of the stress response. Think of it as the cost of constantly adapting to demands. Research shows that autistic and ADHD adults accumulate allostatic load faster than neurotypical people due to chronic masking, sensory mismatch, executive function strain, and repeated experiences of invalidation.

This means we often arrive at stressful periods like the holidays already operating with less margin than others. What might be a manageable challenge for someone with a lower baseline of stress becomes the straw that breaks the proverbial camel’s back for someone whose nervous system has been in overdrive for months or years.

What Actually Helps

If you’re reading this and recognizing yourself or someone you love, here’s what I want you to know: your stress responses are not signs of weakness. They’re not character flaws or evidence that you’re “too sensitive.” They’re adaptive biological responses shaped by how your nervous system is wired and by your experiences.

And if you feel dread and overwhelm during the holidays, rather than the overwhelming joy and positivity that society tells us we should be feeling, you’re not alone, and you’re not ungrateful or flawed. This time of year is legitimately hard for many of us, even when we enjoy the people we’re with. (When we don’t, the holidays can be a nightmare to endure rather than a joyful celebration.)

Here are some strategies that can help:

Prioritize sensory safety. This means creating environments where sensory input feels predictable, controllable, and non-threatening. It might mean noise-canceling headphones at the family gathering, taking breaks in a quiet room, or giving yourself permission to leave events early.

Use “bottom-up” regulation first. When the prefrontal cortex is offline (which it often is during burnout), cognitive strategies like “thinking positive” rarely help. The nervous system needs cues of safety first: deep breathing, gentle movement, warmth, compression, or being with people who feel safe.

Protect your routines where you can. Even if everything else is chaotic, maintaining some anchor points – a morning ritual, a regular bedtime, a daily walk – can help your nervous system find stability.

Practice subtractive self-care. Rather than adding more things to do (even “self-care” activities), focus on what you can remove. What demands can you eliminate? What obligations can you decline? What sensory stressors can you reduce?

Be honest about your needs. This is hard, especially when you’re surrounded by people who may not understand neurodivergent experiences. But advocating for yourself by communicating what you need and setting boundaries can reduce the energy you expend on masking and conforming.

Seek support from people who “get it.” Whether that’s a therapist who understands neurodivergence, a support group, or friends and family members who truly see you, connection with safe people can help regulate your nervous system in ways that nothing else can.

A Final Thought

I write about this not just as a clinician, but as someone who has been there. I’m a late-diagnosed autistic person who has experienced burnout myself, who has navigated the challenges of the holiday season in a body and brain that don’t always fit smoothly into the neurotypical world. I know how hard it can be.

But I also know that recovery is possible. That understanding yourself and your nervous system is powerful. That with the right support and strategies, it’s possible to go from merely surviving to actually thriving – even during the holidays.

If this resonates with you, I have a few resources I want to share:

Free Stress Management Guide. I’ve created a resource that can help: 5 Stress Regulation Strategies for Neurodivergent Adults. You can download it for free here.

Upcoming YouTube Video. I’m working on a video that goes deeper into autistic burnout – what it is, why it happens, and how to recover. Watch for it on my website and YouTube channel, @ThrivingFamilyTherapy, in the coming weeks.

Professional Support. If you’re struggling and want help navigating burnout, neurodivergence, trauma, or stress, I’d be honored to walk alongside you. I offer telehealth therapy to residents of Oregon, California, Idaho, Vermont, and Florida, as well as consultation services more broadly. You can learn more and request a free initial consultation with me through the links on this site.

Whatever this holiday season holds for you, I hope you can find moments of genuine peace and connection. And if you can’t – if it’s just about survival right now – please know that that’s okay too. Sometimes survival is the victory.

Be gentle with yourself. Your nervous system is doing the best it can.

Next
Next

Why “Just Be Firmer” Doesn't Work:Understanding PDA