By Emily Linder, LPCC-S | Calibrations Counseling & Consultation A client came to therapy last month crying because her sister had just announced she was pregnant. She was expected to be excited, to gush over ultrasound photos, to immediately start planning baby showers. Instead, she felt nothing. Or rather, she felt stressed about the social performance that was about to be required of her for the next nine months. "What's wrong with me?" she asked. "I love my sister. I shou

By Emily Linder, LPCC-S | Calibrations Counseling & Consultation A client came to therapy because she was having panic attacks at her desk. She was the director of operations at her company, managed her aging parents' medical care, coordinated her kids' schedules, volunteered on two nonprofit boards, and somehow kept her home running smoothly. Everyone knew her as the person who got things done. Then one Tuesday, she sat down to respond to an email and couldn't remember how t

By Emily Linder, LPCC-S | Calibrations Counseling & Consultation A client sat in my office last month and said something that stopped me cold: "I've been unmasking for six months now. I'm finally being myself. And I don't like who that person is." She'd spent three years in therapy working toward this moment. Learning about her autism. Understanding her need to mask. Slowly letting the performance drop. And now that she was finally being authentic, she discovered she didn't a

By Emily Linder, LPCC-S | Calibrations Counseling & Consultation A client came to therapy with a question that surprised both of us: "I know I need to unmask. But I don't know who I'm unmasking toward. Who am I supposed to become?" She'd spent months recognizing her autistic traits, understanding her need to mask, beginning to let the performance drop. But all of that work was about what to stop doing. Stop forcing eye contact. Stop suppressing stims. Stop pretending to be so

By Emily Linder, LPCC-S | Calibrations Counseling & Consultation I said yes to hosting Thanksgiving dinner even though the thought made my stomach turn. Yes to a networking event I knew would leave me depleted for days. Yes to taking on an extra project at work when I was already drowning. And then I went home and cried in my closet because I couldn't figure out why I kept doing this to myself. This was three years into knowing I was autistic and had ADHD. I'd done therapy. I

By Emily Linder, LPCC-S | Calibrations Counseling & Consultation For most of my twenties, I was the friend who organized everything. Weekend trips, group dinners, birthday celebrations, impromptu happy hours. I was always saying yes and constantly creating opportunities for people to gather. Everyone knew me as social, outgoing, the connector who brought people together. I was exhausted all the time. But I thought that was just normal adult tiredness. Then I got my autism dia

By Emily Linder, LPCC-S | Calibrations Counseling & Consultation I was sitting in a coffee shop when I overheard two women at the next table talking about executive dysfunction. One was describing how she'd spent forty-five minutes trying to make herself start a simple task, not because she didn't want to do it, but because her brain just wouldn't initiate the action. The other woman nodded. "Oh, the wall," she said. "I hit that constantly." They kept talking, trading strateg

By Emily Linder, LPCC-S | Calibrations Counseling & Consultation I was lying on my couch at 2 PM on a Tuesday, unable to get up. Not because I was physically ill. My brain had simply stopped cooperating. I'd been pushing through burnout for months, and my body had finally staged a full rebellion. Work emails were piling up. Projects had deadlines. Clients needed me. And I couldn't make myself move. All I could think was: if I'm not producing, what's the point of me? That thou

By Emily Linder, LPCC-S | Calibrations Counseling & Consultation I was sitting in my therapist's office staring at a blank piece of paper with colored pencils in front of me. She'd asked me to draw myself. Not a portrait, just a visual representation of how I saw myself after my autism and ADHD diagnoses. I couldn't do it. I had no idea how to represent myself visually anymore. The old image, competent, neurotypical-passing, socially skilled, didn't fit. But I hadn't built a

For a lot of neurodivergent people, the world asks more than it gives back. Masking in social situations, managing sensory overload, navigating environments built for neurotypical brains, compensating for executive dysfunction. All of it requires effort that most people around you don't see and wouldn't know to account for. Over time, that effort accumulates. And at some point, it becomes too much. That's neurodivergent burnout. And it's not the kind of tired that a good week