This past December, I found myself having difficulty speaking, and exhaustion so extreme that I found a simple trip to the grocery store to buy vegetables overwhelming. I had trouble replying to text messages, and I was not able to read, watch videos, or listen to podcasts because I couldn’t process new information. Daily noises like passing cars and the hum of the refrigerator deeply disturbed me, sometimes to the point of tears. Many days I sat and stared outside the window at my garden for hours, sipping tea, and wondering if I would ever be a normal person again. I had very few thoughts and slept for more than twelve hours each day. I felt like a stranger to myself and I worried that very few people would understand what I was experiencing, especially because I didn’t understand it myself.
Sensory Burnout is Not Depression
Oversleeping, no enthusiasm for normal activities and interests, crying often, not seeing friends—these are often the symptoms of depression, and these are the symptoms I was experiencing. However, the normal strategies to heal depression actually can make sensory burnout worse, so it is important to raise awareness of the differences between these two conditions. I am deeply grateful to my own therapist and several of my friends who are trained therapists for helping me to recognize what was actually happening to me, and giving me the appropriate strategies to begin to heal.
I was experiencing sensory burnout, a state where the nervous system is so overwhelmed that it begins to shut down. People with neurodivergent brains are very susceptible to experiencing sensory burnout, because the way their brains process sensory input is different than how neurotypical brains process sensory stimuli. Bright lights, loud sounds, crowded places, and neurotypical socializing in groups (think small-talk) can be exhausting physically and mentally, and overexposure can culminate in a complete overwhelm and shutdown of the nervous system.
It’s very important that we as a society spread awareness of the difference between sensory burnout and depression. If someone is suffering from depression, it’s helpful for them to go out, see friends, try a new activity, and engage in other active pursuits.
However, for someone suffering from sensory burnout, doing these things can exacerbate the condition even more. It is extremely important to sleep, rest for long periods, not socialize in crowded places, and engage in soothing interests, often alone. I am so grateful that I was given the appropriate advice by my therapist, and did not feel pressured to do any activities or socialize. I recovered by sleeping, staring out the window, crying, and being alone for almost 6 weeks. Crying is way for the nervous system to release stress and overwhelm and re-regulate, just like sweating is a way for the body to regulate its temperature. I truly think allowing myself to cry as much as my body needed was the fastest way to heal.
Releasing Shame
I want to share my experience because I know that many of us highly-sensitive and highly creative people are pushing ourselves in ways that we are perhaps not even aware of. In order to fit into the expectations of our modern culture, we do too much, expose ourselves to too many bright lights, loud noises, and crowded spaces, and we don’t know how to relax. Relaxing is not watching more screens, receiving more input and stimuli that our nervous system again has to process. Relaxing is being with nature, silence, and letting our thoughts unwind and release without adding more input/entertainment/distraction.
When we have pushed ourselves beyond our limits, the body and the mind freeze. We can’t process more, we can’t do more, we have no interest in external things or people because we simply don’t have the emotional and cognitive space to interact. I was very confused and scared when I found myself in this situation, and I know there must be many other people experiencing a similar state of being. When well-meaning friends tell us “go out and do something fun,” or “get out of bed and meet a friend,” feelings of shame get layered on top of the already confusing and numb feelings of exhaustion. We think, “What’s wrong with me,” or “I’ll never heal because for some reason I just can’t take any of the right actions to heal.” But in fact, this advice is coming from a lack of knowledge, and it shames us unnecessarily because it is not meeting our needs—in fact, it is pushing us away from our ability to meet our own needs. In this type of burnout, the cure is rest, sleep, aloneness, silence. Many people are not aware of this, and in fact they become fearful when someone they love is exhibiting what they perceive as frightening and concerning behaviors.
Pushing someone in sensory burnout to do more actions is slowing down their healing and adding a layer of shame and confusion to their healing process. It would be like if you had a broken arm and you were unaware it was broken, but you were experiencing pain and stiffness. You explain your suffering to a friend and the friend, also unaware of your condition, advises you and encourages you to practice yoga to relieve the pain and stiffness of your arm. But your arm gets worse and worse each day, because yoga is not the cure for a broken arm—and you feel shame and confusion, thinking “What is wrong with me? Why am I not getting better? Yoga works for everyone else, but just not me.” If you knew what was wrong with your arm, you would be able to find the treatment you need, and explain to others that their best guesses are actually the opposite of what is needed in this specific situation. But if you don’t know what is wrong with your arm, you will feel shame, confusion, alienation because nothing is working and your symptoms are getting worse day by day. Similarly, sensory burnout needs to be treated with the right practices for its specific condition and there is nothing wrong with you if you need to sleep and rest from a lifetime of overstimulation. Allow your body and nervous system to do what it needs to do in order to heal.
Healing Takes its Own Time
I’m writing this in Mexico City, where I am enjoying a slower pace of life, observing the sunlight and shadows of the lush flora and fauna in my neighborhood, and cooking meals at home. I have started working on two new murals and have been enjoying the process of creating once again. It’s surprising to me how quickly my body settled into a new harmony of being and doing, after my period of solitude and exhaustion, but I am aware I am still recovering. The years of hustle-culture and overexertion of my capacity has taken a toll which I have not fully felt and probably not begun to process. The progress is that my nervous system is no longer sounding a full-body alarm.
I hope for myself and others who have experienced similar states of burnout that I will tend and care for my nervous system on a daily basis in more well-informed manner. I am becoming conscious of my daily limits. I am becoming conscious of what overwhelms and taxes my sensory processing abilities, and what nurtures and rejuvenates me. I am noticing that even though I truly enjoy and flourish in crowded environments with lots of stimulation, I need to also provide myself with a longer period of silence and rejuvenation afterwards. I am learning that relaxing and replenishing for my specific nervous system cannot involve socializing or screens. Even though I love adventure and travel and interacting with new people, I have to conscientiously count those actions towards my daily quota of activity and carve out time daily to rest and let my nervous system do nothing.
It is humbling and it is also beautiful to see the limitations of my body and respect them with intention and care. I feel like this experience has helped me take a kinder and softer perspective towards myself and others, and I hope that sharing my experience can provide something of value to someone else.