I’m autistic, ADHD, and dyslexic. Diagnosed late, which means I spent most of my life not understanding why I worked differently, just knowing that I did.
Getting that diagnosis didn’t fix anything. But it made sense of everything.
*Picture: Me, age 4, summer 1980.
How I work
My brain runs fast or not at all. Deep focus or complete shutdown. Not much in between.
When I’m engaged, I notice things, follow threads, and go deep. I’m useful in that state. When I’m overloaded, I go quiet and need to reset. That’s not withdrawal. It’s maintenance.
Sensory overload is real and daily. Noise, light, and busy environments build up in ways that are hard to describe if you don’t experience them. What’s fine at 9 am can tip into overstimulation by evening. When that happens, I go into meltdown or shutdown. I manage it, but I can’t always predict when the line is coming.
I notice everything. Tone, body language, tiny shifts in how someone is. My brain just works that way. It isn’t anxiety, it’s perception. It means I’m very rarely unaware of what’s happening in a room or in a conversation. It also means ambiguity hits hard because I’m constantly picking up signals, and I need something real to anchor them to. Clear communication sorts this immediately.
I can interrupt. My brain runs many simultaneous threads and fills short-term memory quickly. I’m aware of it, though, and I actively try to write down my thoughts rather than cut across someone. It doesn’t always work, but I’m not oblivious to it.
My empathy is off the scale. I feel other people’s states deeply, sometimes before they’ve said anything. I’ll often absorb and go quiet rather than risk causing friction. That’s not passivity. It’s me carrying something I haven’t worked out how to say yet.
That same empathy is a big part of why I’m a good sub. I notice what someone needs, I respond to shifts in their mood, and I anticipate. Not because I’ve been told to. Because I can’t help but notice.
I masked for most of my life. Performed calmly when I wasn’t. Agreed when I didn’t understand. Said yes when I meant no. I’m done with that now.
I’m bisexual, pansexual in practice. Attracted by personality, values, and dominance more than gender.
Autistic Burnout
Autistic burnout isn’t the same as being tired or stressed. It’s worth being clear about that because most people don’t know what it actually is.
It happens when an autistic person has been masking, pushing through, and overextending for too long. The brain runs out of capacity. It isn’t low mood or laziness. It’s a neurological shutdown. Things that were manageable stop being manageable. Things that used to bring pleasure stop registering. The ability to communicate, to feel, to connect can all go offline at once.
In 2020, I burned out. Properly. It lasted close to five years.
I kept functioning on the surface, but internally I was flat. Disconnected from pleasure, intimacy, desire. The lights were on, but nobody was home.
I’m out of it now. But it shaped how I operate. I manage my energy deliberately, I recognise the signs early, and I take space when I need it. That isn’t flakiness. It’s how I stay functional.
When I do go into shutdown, the worst thing is pressure or demand. The best thing is someone who holds the thread lightly. Keeps one small expectation in place. Let me know I’m still held without pulling me back before I’m ready. That brings me back faster than anything else.
The divorce
Understanding my brain properly changed how I saw my marriage, too.
I’d spent years masking, people-pleasing, staying in something that wasn’t right because I didn’t have the framework to see it clearly. The diagnosis gave me that framework.
Once I could see myself, I could see what I was in. It was an abusive relationship. I got out. The divorce is still ongoing, and it’s hard, but I’m doing it.
I’m open about this because it’s part of who I am right now. It also means I know the difference between control that harms and control that holds. I’m not confused about which one I’m looking for.
The practical stuff
I fall asleep with Star Trek on. My brain needs something to latch onto before it’ll let go. Non-negotiable, and I’m not embarrassed about it.
I use a small amount of cannabis in the evening. Not recreationally. It quiets the ADHD noise enough that I can wind down and sleep. It’s part of managing my brain, just like anyone else manages theirs.
My brain doesn’t stop. Even when I’m quiet, something’s running. I notice things, remember things, and make connections. I also overthink, and sometimes I need someone to just tell me to stop and come back to now.
What you actually get
The same intensity that makes me harder work in the wrong environment makes me genuinely valuable in the right one.
I feel things deeply. I follow through. I pay attention. I carry a lot of empathy, and I use it. I don’t perform loyalty, I just am loyal.
A dominant who understands neurodivergence, or genuinely wants to, gets someone who notices everything, works hard, and doesn’t need chasing once expectations are clear.
I’m more work to get to know than some people. I’m also more present, more honest, and more all-in than most, once you do. I respond in a way that is steady, focused, and real.