For a lot of neurodivergent people, burnout isn’t an occasional dip in energy; it’s a persistent state that hovers like a shadow, ready to consume us the minute we stop watching ourselves.

For us, burnout is more than just exhaustion; it’s an all-encompassing depletion that affects physical health, mental clarity, and emotional well-being. It’s what happens when we mask too much, push ourselves into neurotypical moulds, or try to meet standards that weren’t built for us.

High-masking neurodivergent people, in particular, may live in a near-constant state of burnout. They’re performing, not just working, trying to “pass” as neurotypical day in and day out — which is as draining as it sounds.

In my case, the internal contradiction is palpable. As someone with both autism and ADHD (AuDHD), I’m caught between needing things to be “just so” and also craving change and stimulation. It’s a delicate balance, and even with years of experience managing it, it’s a challenge. I try to structure my time, but life doesn’t always cooperate.

Between a full-time job, side hustles, two young kids, an allotment, chickens, and a high-energy dog, something’s always falling through the cracks. And for me, when burnout hits, it’s my physical health that takes the toll.

Choose Your Role Wisely

The structure of the job itself matters enormously. While we can make small changes to a workplace or try to push for neurodivergent-friendly policies, these efforts mean little if the role doesn’t inherently have flexibility — or if the leadership isn’t equipped (or willing) to respond to our needs.

Finding a role that works with your neurodivergence often means choosing one with adaptable hours, clear expectations, and, ideally, a supportive manager who understands that productivity isn’t measured in the same way for everyone.

Not all roles or workplaces can offer this, so choose wisely. Some positions or industries are inherently more adaptable or offer more control over daily routines, which is crucial in managing neurodivergent burnout. If you’re not sure where to start, consider jobs that play to your strengths, allow for independent work, or let you structure your tasks and environment. And where you can, share your experience to help make employers more inclusive and supportive of NDs — but only so far as it doesn’t deplete you further.

Build in Rest Before You Need It

One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is that avoiding burnout is about being proactive — taking time to introspect and reflect on how I’m feeling — which doesn’t come naturally to me.

Neurodivergent people often push until they crash, then take time off to recover. But a more sustainable approach is to build rest into your schedule regularly, even when you’re not feeling burned out. Keeping cortisol levels in check by taking small breaks and letting your body (and mind) rest at intervals is far more effective than sprinting toward a meltdown and hoping for the best.

For me, this looks like setting time aside to simply “be,” whether that means spending time in my allotment, tending to the chickens, or walking my dog. At other times, it means a full day in bed with my teddies bundled around me and a constant stream of cups of tea and crappy novels. Nature and routine help me recharge, and even if it’s only for short intervals, they keep me grounded enough to handle the chaos when it inevitably shows up.

Accepting Your Own Capacity

There’s a societal expectation to work full-time, but for many neurodivergent individuals, this level of employment isn’t sustainable or healthy. Some people can work only part-time or need alternative working patterns to avoid burning out. And that’s entirely okay. Everyone’s threshold for burnout is different, and pushing yourself to meet neurotypical standards of productivity only worsens the strain.

However, it’s not always about giving up on ‘work’ altogether; it’s about finding an engagement level that suits you.

There was about a decade of my life where I’d regularly push myself off the deep end and have to be hospitalised for weeks or months at a time. The strain of holding up my mask hit me like a truck, and my reality was daily meltdowns, days-long shutdowns (which were wrongly diagnosed as catatonia at the time) and a state of deep burnout. With the pressure to ‘perform’ removed, I’d regain some of my depleted energy and feel ready to try again in the outside world.

At these times (when my capacity was very limited) working with horses for a few hours a week helped me regain some balance. Horses are direct, honest, and grounded, and working with them provided a kind of therapeutic relief that brought my nervous system down from the edge. At other times, I volunteered in a community garden (alongside others struggling with mental health). Expectations for engagement here were low, and I was able to contribute in a meaningful way without the intensity of a traditional job.

One friend of mine, who also has AuDHD and some physical conditions, isn’t able to work in the ‘usual’ sense. But she crochets beautiful creations to sell online, and shares her lived experience with local groups to help educate others on neurodivergence. It’s a level of engagement that works for her and allows her to give back — while being respectful of her own needs and limitations.

Balancing Stability and Stimulation

As an AuDHD person, I live in a state of internal contradiction. I crave routine and quiet, and for things to be exactly how I want them — yet I also need change and stimulation to keep my mind engaged. This contradiction means I’m always dancing on the line between overdoing it and feeling under-stimulated. This “razor’s edge” only works (some of the time) because I’m hyper-aware of my state of mind and body. I’ve learned to monitor my energy levels, mental state, and emotional health closely, adjusting my workload or routine before burnout can take hold.

Yet, sometimes, despite all my efforts, the balance tips. I drop balls, lose track of things, and find myself starting to burn out. Through experience, I’ve learned that how you work and where you work can be as important as how much you work. And more importantly, giving yourself the flexibility to ebb and flow as needed is essential to preventing burnout from consuming you entirely.

The Importance of Meaningful Engagement

While full-time work might not be suitable for everyone; in my opinion, having some sort of fulfilling engagement is beneficial for most people (neurodivergent or otherwise). Occupying yourself in ways that feel valuable, whether paid or unpaid, can provide a sense of purpose and help prevent burnout from turning into something deeper, like isolation or depression.

For some, that might mean working a few hours a week at something they’re passionate about. For others, it might mean contributing to a cause, like my friend who volunteers her knowledge to local support groups. Finding meaningful ways to spend time, even if it’s just a few hours a week, can serve as an anchor.

Final Thoughts: Building a Sustainable Path Forward

For neurodivergents, managing burnout is an ongoing process. It requires tuning in to your body’s signals, choosing roles and environments that align with your strengths, and setting boundaries that let you recover before the next wave hits. It’s also about accepting that “productivity” doesn’t look the same for everyone, and that’s okay.

At the end of the day, burnout for neurodivergent minds isn’t something we can fully escape. But by designing a work-life blend that honours our unique needs, building in rest proactively, and pursuing roles or projects that align with our values, we can avoid the worst of it and create a more sustainable path forward.