The first lecture at university.

I am so keen to make a good impression that I went to bed early last night, which honestly reveals more than I would like about my fresher’s week.

It’s a musty old room- the seat backs are straighter than your back could ever be, there are these terrible, raggedy old blinds that block out most of the light, but you can’t open them because the sun will blind you instead.

The lecturer begins talking – it’s exciting, and inspiring, and I feel a thrill of anticipation for the years it will bring. But there are gaps, missing sections, sentences that don’t make sense, darkness unrelated to the dim room and a heavy sensation in my chest as my head drops again and again. I’m falling asleep in my first lecture!

Frustration, dread, sadness, and embarrassment overwhelm me as I struggle to hold my eyelids open; it’s about as futile as trying to hold an umbrella the right way round on a windy day.

I don’t take in much information, interact appropriately, or even feel present in the moment. Every bit of my focus is on keeping my body awake, even fighting to mask the tiredness from my face, but I can’t.

After what feels like an experience in a never-ending nightmare, I have less than ten minutes to get to my next lecture.

It is a known thing that the university structure is not designed for the neurodiverse mind, but exhaustion is something that can occur in us because of any high level of stress. In fresher’s week, particularly, I was so stressed about missing any opportunities to make friends that I tired myself out by constantly socialising and being around people; all of that on top of being in a completely unfamiliar environment.

Exhaustion might not necessarily happen in all neurodiverse individuals; I am more susceptible to it because of one of my specific conditions. But it also likely occurred more often because I had no clue how to look after my mind, especially as a young adult. I don’t fall asleep in public much anymore, yet it happened a few times as a teenager when I was facing exams, assignments, and even everyday things like sensory overload.

Falling asleep in any public place is scary; you could miss your train stop, have your phone taken or worse. But when it comes to neurodiverse children and teenagers, they can become exhausted from daily life, school and clubs; this can mean that they miss out on education, socialising, mealtimes or get penalised by teachers for not completing homework because they passed out the second they got home.

It can also be frustrating – you are losing more of your day compared to your neurotypical peers because your body needs more rest. The time that you could have spent doing things you enjoy or completing tasks that needed to be done suddenly vanishes.

The school system isn’t designed for neurodiverse children in general, but keeping stress levels low can help with exhaustion. There are a few things that can help me to avoid exhaustion (but they might not work every single time):

Non-Masking Time:

Spending an hour a day or even taking a whole day once a week to be myself, either alone or with those whom I don’t have to mask for. Doing things like reading, watching TV, playing board games, etc.

Routines:

Having a set daily routine helps a lot with maintaining calm, though it can be hard to motivate myself to follow it sometimes. During my time at university, I would treat studying like a 9-5 and my whole day would be organised to fit around this, including mealtimes, my favourite drinks, coffee breaks, and other things that kept me going. Sometimes I would end up getting too tired and would stop early, but ultimately, I was happy that I made any progress at all.

Taking meaningful breaks:

This particularly helped me when I worked retail jobs – I often found that on my breaks, I would just scroll mindlessly through my phone until I didn’t feel rested at all. Instead, I started doing things like puzzles, Sudoku on my phone or reading on my Kindle; these were tasks that aren’t good for masking, but they made me feel like I had accomplished something on my break, and I felt more able to go back out to the stress of the job.

Sensory aids:

Sensory input is just one of those constant drags on a day; they are always there, always chipping away at my tolerance. I find that blocking out the sensory stress a little can help slow down the exhaustion. My hearing is most sensitive, so I started using noise-filtering earplugs and noise-cancelling headphones. This made a huge difference in day-to-day public life and even made me more aware of some background noise I hadn’t realised I was picking up. Sometimes I would even take off my glasses to block out the people I could see around me, though I really wouldn’t recommend this for safety reasons.

Neurodiverse exhaustion can take its toll on your mental well-being – always reach out for help if you feel like you need it.

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I’m Katy

I write about my neurodiverse experience for those on the spectrum and the people who love them.

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