Getting unstuck: How to reclaim your unique intrinsic motivation

This week I discovered a support group for fellow Black autists that really lit up my soul. We talked about our special interests and our worries for the future, but a lot of our hour and a half together revolved around the specter, the dastardly villain that is a “normal” job.

It was the first time I’d ever been in community that required no performance at all: no masking, no long preambles of what neurodivergence is, and — my god — no micro-aggressions!

Eventually we got on the true topic of the evening: our “origin stories.” The moment each of us discovered we’re autistic. Many of them revolved around that initial run-in with autistic burnout.

That first burnout — and I really hope it was your* only* one, boo — always hits the hardest. Hard enough to knock you off your feet. Hard enough that, when you finally get back up, you’ve completely lost the plot.

Every burnout story carried a unique flavor of despondence. We all spent months, sometimes years staring into the void or scrambling for purchase in a life too fast for us, thinking desperately to ourselves, I don’t know what I want, but I know it’s not this.

Until we didn’t. Our origin stories led to a new plotline. A nonprofit idea led to funding. A song led to a DJ career. A collection of angsty poetry led to this blog. We found a new plotline and stuck with it until it meant something for us, personally. Those creations become living things that continue to touch not just our own lives, but our communities, (usually) for the better.

Malcolm X once said, “If you stand for nothing you’ll fall for everything.” By the time we’ve lost ourselves chasing approval and ended up holding the bag, we’ve fallen again and again and again until we can’t imagine ever doing anything else. Until we do.

I believe that dark night of the soul that is autistic burnout is our bodies telling us it’s time to stop torturing ourselves and think about what really needs to happen in order for us to lead fulfilled lives.