ND, Burnt Out, and Furious

This banner was made by artist Shelby Rodeffer, who is raffling it off in exchange for donations to Midwest Immigrant Bond Fund. You can find out more and donate on her IG.

Hey, so first of all, FUCK ICE. Just in case there’s any doubt. As a therapist, my humanity and politics are woven into my clinical practice, especially considering I’m a licensed clinical social worker and my work is driven by abolitionist social work values. If you have a therapist who isn’t checking on your nervous system and how you’re experiencing this collective trauma, take note and consider, is all I’m saying.

Being late diagnosed ADHD or Autistic might mean that we have to learn for the first time how our nervous system receives and processes information, especially when it comes to the news cycle and traumatic events. If your nervous system feels like it’s on fire right now, that’s because your brain is doing what it was built to do with sensory information, and because grief and rage and panic are normal responses to seeing people publicly executed by your federal government in real time, over, and over again.

The news doesn’t cater to your level of sensitivity

If neurotypical folks receive sensory information (the information your brain processes when you see something, hear something, taste something, smell something, touch something) through a typical regulated kitchen sink faucet, ND folks (particularly autistic and ADHD) receive sensory information like a fire hose. This is of course to varying degrees for each person, depending upon capacity, how well resourced (grounded, supported) you are, and if you’re ADHD or Autistic with a special interest in social justice right now…all of those levels are likely low. ADHD and Autistic folks often feel the weight of the world in ways others don’t always understand.
We notice patterns. We absorb tone. We connect dots — between injustice and our own lived experience — even when no one else says it out loud.

Journalists and news media’s jobs are to (hopefully) cover what is actually happening, and distributed that information—they aren’t necessarily bound to titrate it out to prevent overwhelming us. That’d be nice but the rate at which we allow the firehose to pelt us is up to each individual right now.

Maybe you’ve been doom-scrolling all weekend and as a result, your executive function is frozen. Maybe you keep toggling between “I have to do something” and “I can’t even shower.” Girl, felt. On a personal level.

Because we don’t just read the news. We feel it. In our bodies, in our sleep, in our relationships. And when the systems we live in (immigration enforcement, the medical industrial complex, the carceral state) are actively screaming in word and deed that they are only interested in obedience, power and control, it’s personal.

Nervous system regulation is resistance

This is your reminder that social justice work and nervous system care go hand-in-hand. When we regulate, rest, and refuse to collapse in the face of cruelty, we are resisting. It’s radical to rest, it’s radical to stim, it’s radical to stay soft in a system that is designed and determined to make you numb or compliant.

Yes, we care. Yes, we act. But we listen to Black, Brown, Queer and Trans siblings who have always been in this space with this knowledge, and do so sustainably.

Here are a few grounding ideas to carry into this week:

  • Set a timer or designate a time of day for checking the news. Let yourself stop.

  • Stim while reading. You can hold a warm mug, rock, crochet, fidget.

  • Name your emotions out loud or in writing: “I’m heartbroken. I’m furious. I’m done.”

  • Take 3 minutes to visualize a future where this shit has finally been stopped. Notice how that feels in your brain and body. Play pretend.

  • Send $5 to a mutual aid org instead of spiraling in guilt or shame. Here are a few options:

You don’t have to earn the right to take care

Because we tend toward binary thinking (“There is only one right way to be an activist.”), I want to remind you that you don’t have to prove your activism. You don’t have to push past your limits.
Your capacity will ebb and flow because you’re human, and that’s not a moral failure.

You are allowed to care deeply and still take a nap.
You are allowed to miss a protest and still fight for a better world.

Especially if your neurodivergent brain is running on fumes from a lifetime of masking, hypervigilance, or survival, please know that your rage, grief, and exhaustion are not flaws. They’re information, it’s your truth.

If you need a soft place to land

This February, I’m offering two ND-affirming therapy groups for adults like you:

🧠 Unmasking Skills Group — for burned-out, late-diagnosed adults learning how to live more fully in their own skin
👶 Parenting While ND — for caregivers doing their best to raise kids while navigating their own overstimulation and survival brain

If either group speaks to you, you can learn more here.

And if not, I still hope this lands in your inbox like a weighted blanket. You are not alone in this chaos.

There’s nothing wrong with you. There never was.
You’re not behind. You’re waking up.
And you are needed in this moment, in this time, exactly as you are.

Further Resources:

Next
Next

Navigating Life with AuDHD: Understanding the Overlap of Autism and ADHD in Adults