Prayers of Reparation and Healing for Autistic People

As a follow-up to our last post, here is the list of Prayers of the Faithful as they were originally written. Feel free to pray them, and to download and print the PDF of these prayers for your own use.

 

Prayers of Reparation and Healing for Autistic People

To affirm the value of all autistic lives of all ages and all support needs:

 

– When our autistic struggles are portrayed as burdensome and our lives deemed worthless by society, may we persevere in faith, not yielding to despair, but trusting that truth will triumph through the grace of God.

 

Lord, hear us!

 

– May we, as Church, have the courage to speak up and defend the humanity and dignity of autistic people – and to pray publicly for those who dehumanize and devalue autistic lives. Let us pray especially for the conversion of anyone who sees us as a burden on families and society. May our hearts be pierced with contrition for any time we have contributed to this attitude, in however small a gesture we may have made in viewing autistic needs as inconvenient – or worse.

 

Lord, hear us!

 

– May Church leaders actively speak out against dehumanizing autistic people… and may their actions and examples ensure this does not happen in our parishes. May our pastors and bishops lead the way for others to follow, and to make reparation for those who would have us eliminated.

 

Lord, hear us!

 

-As the Body of Christ, we must summon our leaders and laity alike to pray for autistic people now more than ever. For our part, we offer our own autism in witness to the dignity of all human lives.

 

Lord, hear us!

 

-May we, with renewed commitment, pursue accurate and current information about autism and autistic accommodations, with our focus on building a community that supports and champions autistic members of all ages.

 

Lord, hear us!

 

– May we call upon the patronage and intercession of Our Blessed Mother, Saint Thorlak, Sts.___________ , Saint Hannibal Maria Di Francia, and Luisa Piccarreta (Servant of God) to lead the Church in embracing and supporting neurodiversity among all members of the Body of Christ in your Holy Divine Will and on behalf of all souls past present and future.

 

Lord, hear us!

 

Download PDF Here

An Apology

Very late yesterday, we learned from friends in Ireland that a Mass of Reparation would be offered at 3pm Dublin time today. This was very carefully and thoughtfully put together by a group of faithful individuals who pray weekly for healing the ways our society approaches autism and autistic people. The weekly intentions include resolutions to better understand and promote neurodiversity and to make amends for errors in understanding which have led to the harmful stereotypes and alienation of autistic people we are all too familiar with.

These friends eagerly described this as a Mass of Reparation for the times when autistic lives have not been valued. It seemed like ideal timing, between April’s being dubbed “Autism Month” and the recent public statements made by the US Department of Health and Human Services which starkly revealed the underbelly of societal attitudes – which most people don’t want to admit are still there, but are ultimately just as dehumanizing toward autistic people as any of the darkest periods of human history.

What a gift. The chief person organizing this Mass is herself late-diagnosed autistic and is personally invested in making things better for neurodivergent people worldwide. She helped draft what would be the Prayers of the Faithful, asking for and using suggestions from Autism Consecrated, and was very excited to see this come together.

And then? After we shared this good news and invited autistic people worldwide to join us, it all got changed at the very last minute.

No longer a Mass of Reparation, it was a Mass for “People Affected By Autism.”

The Prayers of the Faithful were hastily rewritten – by someone who isn’t (to my knowledge) autistic.

The only time the word “autistic” was used was when our friend managed to sneak it in, saying that she herself is autistic. All other mentions reverted to “people affected by autism,” which is the term used by people who do not care that autistic people like being called autistic people, and that the phrase “affected by autism” perpetuates the stereotypes for which we hoped to make reparation.

In short: The Mass intentions requested in good faith by autistic people were hijacked and rewritten to conform to neurotypical sensibilities.

Yes, you read that correctly. Autistic voices – autistic pleadings in prayer –  were silenced, ignored, and overridden by nonautistic voices who assume they know better.

The intentions which are dearly important and meaningful to us were DELETED and replaced by intentions from a neurotypical perspective. This happened mere minutes before Mass began, giving us no time to react, or to protest, or to ask why.

THIS IS WRONG ON EVERY LEVEL.

This was supposed to be a Mass affirming the value of autistic lives. That cannot happen when autistic voices are censored and our intentions completely changed.

Autism Consecrated offers our most sincere apology to those who expected what we expected. We had no idea our Mass would be turned into the very thing we intended to heal from and to make reparation about.

We are truly sorry.

And we will continue to pray, to offer personal prayers for reparation, and to persist in our mission to realize autism’s belonging in the Body of Christ.

 

Mass of Reparation and Healing, Affirming the Value of All Autistic Lives

It is an understatement to say that the past week has been a trial for autistic people, given the shock of hearing the statements being made by the US Department of Health and Human Services and the ramifications of what those words represent. So much could be said… so much MUST be said… to affirm and defend the fundamental dignity and value of autistic lives. This is a defining moment, and one about which Catholic leaders will no doubt have much to say in the weeks ahead as the shock of Pope Francis’ passing so soon after the Sacred Triduum and Easter begins to subside.

Father Aidan Kieran, a priest in Dublin, Ireland, has taken up the call to prayer without delay. As such, he will be offering a Mass of Reparation and Healing for all the times we (as society, and as individuals) have, knowingly and unknowingly, failed to support and value the lives of autistic people.

This Mass will be streamed on Facebook Live at 3pm Dublin time, April 24, 2025. For those of us in the United States, that is 10am Eastern, 8am Mountain, 7am Pacific. The Mass can also be heard on the Radio Maria Ireland website and Radio Maria app.

Please join in this prayer, live or in spirit, to affirm the value and dignity of all autistic lives.

Neurologically Sustainable Discipleship

The Lenten resolutions previously posted here center around understanding and honoring our physical, neurological needs – and recognizing that ignoring and pushing through these needs is not only detrimental to our mental and physical health, but also to our relationships to others, and our relationship with God. The human body is designed to shut down processes of social engagement and higher thinking when in survival mode, and survival mode gets triggered when our sensory, cognitive and emotional processing is overwhelmed. If Lent is a season for identifying what impedes our relationship with God, then it is appropriate for neurodivergent Christians to seek ways to live sustainably within our neurological means, and to recognize the spiritual cost of habitually exceeding our limits. Lenten “sacrifice” for us may mean giving up trying to push through or stay silent about our needs for the sake of not making waves.

When we care for our sensory needs and treat ourselves with compassion rather than pushing ourselves beyond our capacities, we not only maintain our own health, but we set an example of compassion for others to follow.  This runs counter to many slogans and messages dominating popular culture.  How many times, for example, do we hear some variation on “no pain, no gain”, or the theme that growth only happens when we leave our comfort zones?  This might be true in athletic and military training, but for autistic people, pain is a signal we are obligated to heed rather than ignore. Pushing past our limits leads to meltdown, burnout, and sometimes, literal injury. With many neurodivergent people also experiencing joint hypermobility, migraine headaches and heat sensitivity, to name just a few, pushing through pain is an actual risk and liability. It is just as important to learn how to explain our limits with grace and humility as it is to be active, and to know how to plan ahead so that we can give our best to whatever we expect to do.

Autism Consecrated is designed to be a living example of how autistic people can sustainably engage in ministry and discipleship [which is to say, neurologically sustainable for our autistic needs]. We integrate the accommodations and flexibility we need into all that we do, taking into account the ways we comfortably communicate and receive and respond to information. For instance, our auditory processing gets easily overwhelmed with phone and video calls, so we communicate exclusively through email and text. Seeing words in type and having unpressured time to reflect helps us effectively respond to questions and comments we receive. Large gatherings overwhelm our sensory processing, so we limit our outreach to one person at a time. It is a natural outflow of our respective vocations as a priest-hermit and Lay Carmelite to offer our time in prayer for specific intentions brought to us, and in general, for better understanding and belonging of autistic people in the Church; in this, we also pace ourselves according to our energy levels and processing loads, simultaneously finding sensory refuge in the spaces we have devoted to prayer.

(Read more about how this apostolate is influenced by the Carmelite charism here.)

Going further, we have intentionally designed Autism Consecrated to operate with as few resources as possible. We are 100% volunteer, and we rely on word of mouth and the Holy Spirit rather than investing our energy and money in marketing and promotions. We are not about numbers. We don’t get anywhere near as much attention as larger, incorporated ministries do, but that leaves us more energy to be fully present to those who reach out to us, and to maintain our commitment to intercessory prayer.

Finally, we strive to promote belonging for autistic people of all ages, not just children. There are thousands of autistic teens and adults who are spiritually hungry and need accommodations, but the majority of resources out there are geared toward autistic children and are rooted more in behavior management than spiritual development. We want autistic teens and adults to know they too are seen, heard, valued, and that their spiritual needs are of equal importance.

Being able to offer God’s love to even one spiritually hungry person, and being in a position to pray for autism’s belonging in the Body of Christ, is more than sufficient to fulfill our mission day after day. We pray our example may show autistic people of all ages that neurodivergent discipleship is very possible.

 

Autism As Mission

We have written previously that autistic people are less likely to attend Mass than non-autistic people (e.g., our 2023 post, “Raise Your Hand If You’re Not Here”).

Our Daily Prayer for Autism’s Belonging for the Second Wednesday of Lent reads like this: “We pray for our autistic members who are not able to participate in Church liturgies and activities. May our autistic members be genuinely missed when absent. May we prayerfully consider what the barriers might be to their participation, and what the community can do to help address and relieve those.”

Which barriers might come to mind?

  • Sensory load
  • Health (both mental and physical)
  • Energy level (vs. exhaustion)
  • Quality of sleep (vs. chronic sleep deficit)
  • Executive functioning
  • Access to transportation

While each of these is relevant, if we are to be completely honest, we need to go further and acknowledge that – consciously or not – the community’s attitude toward neurodiversity is often the biggest and most difficult barrier. People may say outwardly that they welcome and encourage people of all abilities to come to Mass, but there remains a deep interior skepticism that autism is anything more than pop psychology’s attempt to stylize laziness and apathy toward decorum. These attitudes are not only grossly incorrect, but also do nothing to build up the Body of Christ. If anything, autistic members are isolated and wounded by this barrier more than all the others combined.

Ask any autistic person: If we were able to overcome such barriers as these through our own efforts and willpower, we would do so. Trying harder is not enough – and not within our grasp. Telling ourselves not to feel [exhausted, overwhelmed, anxious] is as useless as telling our cars to keep going when the fuel gauge reads “empty.” Our capacities and limits are what they are, and pushing past them is harmful, period. Those who encourage us to do so are operating on faulty, outdated, and disproven information.

Some have become so accustomed to the idea that merit is earned by acting well that they confuse patience and compassion for “special treatment.” But accommodations for autistic people are no more indulgent (or optional) than the “special treatment” shown by, say, bandaging and resting a sprained ankle… or by using supplemental oxygen when scuba diving.

Autistic people really do want to be present and participate. If we can’t remove the barriers for ourselves, what can we do?

Trust that we serve God best as our authentic selves, needs and all.

Diverting our energy from trying to live past our means starts by trusting God’s wisdom. Our capacities and limitations were designed, with purpose, by Our Creator. Trust that God intends some members of the Body of Christ to process at a different pace, to be deeply affected by what we see and hear and taste and ponder, and, yes, to need patience and assistance from others as a result of our body’s design. Trust that God calls even those of us whom the world writes off to be disciples. Believe that the fruit of this discipleship is cultivated in part by the extra time, extra space and extra understanding which will allow us to be present and contribute.

It requires this same trust to ask and expect the community to help us in our needs, and that is how offering our autism – by just being our authentic selves –  becomes mission work, even when that  mission brings us to confront the situations which  find us:

– misunderstood, unseen, or unheard by our community

– unaccommodated, despite repeated asking

– unable to participate, especially when large groups are our only option

– asking more questions than people would like

– overwhelmed and dysregulated, even when we are doing the best we can

In other words, the mission of being autistic includes challenging the way our communities respond to differences and disabilities, and living in such a way as to break the stereotypes perpetuating the misunderstanding and isolation which keep us from fully realizing our vocations as disciples.  When we focus on suppressing and hiding our autistic traits, we miss out (and so does the entire community) on what happens when we put that energy instead into being who God made us to be – which St. Catherine of Siena says will set the world ablaze with God’s grace!

Lord, let us be a sign by which stereotypes can be challenged. May our communities appreciate why we wear ear defenders and tinted glasses to Mass, and why we might sit in a separate place with additional sensory supports.  May our fellow parishioners experience God’s grace when lowering the lights, reducing the volume, and providing space which helps autistic people engage much more fully in worship. May our autistic discipleship be a source of grace and blessing to our communities.

Lord: Hear our prayer!

 

A Word On Our Daily Prayers For Autism’s Belonging in the Body of Christ

Those who are praying along with our daily intentions this Lent will notice that each day’s prayer examines an aspect of neurodiversity which many may not have considered. We are seeking to shift the stereotyped sense of autism as problematic symptoms and misbehavior toward a deeper realization that autistic expressions are very human, very functional ways people respond and attempt to cope when our processing system is flooded. Most people know what it’s like to feel overloaded. The difference is, autistic people’s processing systems reach capacity at a higher frequency, and overload when we are asked to keep pushing. Our bodies absorb every bit of data from our surroundings at once, filling all available processing slots quickly to capacity without the benefit of extra time to sort it all out. As with the famous chocolate factory scene from “I Love Lucy”, we do what we can to keep up, but pretending we are fine only makes things worse. Unless that conveyor belt slows down or we get the support we need to finish, we know how this is going to end. Except – for autistic people – we’re not laughing. More like, it is devastating, each and every time. It is exhausting. It is humiliating to have to ask for help, all the time… and, it’s even more so when we are met with those who think the way to help us is to shape our behavior for us. “Try harder! You can do it if you really apply yourself!” – No. We can’t.

But here’s what we want to convey: Any person’s capacity to participate in anything – including social activities, learning environments, and worship services – requires the ability to process information and engage with others. When our sensory systems are bombarded with more input than we can process, autistic or not, our bodies shift from relaxed participation to high alert.  If we do not take time and space to catch up with what we are already processing, our fight/flight/freeze reflexes start acting like circuit breakers, systematically shutting down extraneous processes (such as social graces, small talk, and creative thinking) as a last-ditch effort to keep our processing afloat. Most of us can recall a time when we felt frazzled by too many people speaking at once or too many demands coming in at the same time. If someone approaches us right then with a bit of unrelated conversation or unsolicited advice, we can well imagine what our response might look like… and, most neurotypical people would make plenty of allowance for why this is reasonable. Why, then, is it unreasonable when autistic people experience this (which we do)? Hint: It’s not unreasonable. It just happens more frequently, and more intensely, because our loads are constantly full, and traditionally, people have been told to “help” us by making us struggle. These prayers are intended, in part, to show the other side of this.

The crucial point to remember: Neurodivergent minds are flooded with simultaneous processing tasks, all the time. The way we look, sound, act, and cope, is a reflection of how well – or not – we are able to keep up with those processes at any given moment.

Corollary: The degree of assistance, patience, and accommodations we receive from others around us helps determine the ease with which we can participate and engage with others.

Autistic people deal with this all day, every day. It is not something that can be trained out of us. We can’t be cajoled into doing better. We look and act the way we do because we are at capacity, all the time, even when other people are not.

Why do we take such deliberate care in phrasing our intentions? In hopes of helping the wider Church see that autistic traits are not moral failings, and are not conquerable with the right attitude. Autistic traits are expressions of the same Body of Christ in which we are all members. Our experiences are more intense, and our capacities are reached sooner and more frequently than neurotypical members. The point to remember is that our needs are the same human needs as the rest of the Body – not subhuman needs, as original models of autism would lead us to believe, and not willfully lazy, self-absorbed, oppositional, or anti-social.

The extra time, extra space, extra patience, and gentler environments which autistic people utterly need to participate in ordinary things of life are arguably conditions which benefit anyone. Who among us does not feel a bit of relief when someone shows us empathy and helps us out when we are struggling? Which then begs the question: why are so many people so reluctant to allow these things? Why is slowing down, making things easier, and softening the sensory environment seen as “giving in” instead of giving the Body an oasis of desperately needed neurological rest, where all of us – including and especially autistic people –  can heal?

 

Lord, Hear Our Prayer!

Lenten Resolutions

by Aimée O’Connell

 

With the season of Lent just up ahead, I would like to offer Autism Consecrated’s take on Lenten resolutions. Boiled down, these would be something like this:

  • Learn about my neurobiological infrastructure
  • Live within my neurobiological means
  • Patiently, politely, cheerfully refuse* to exceed those means
  • Consecrate my neurodivergence to God, offering Him all that I am, that I may bear witness to autism’s belonging in the Body of Christ

(* This phrase, “cheerfully refuse,” is a direct nod to the title used by Leif Enger in his 2024 novel. That wording captures how I strive to face confrontation when trying to be faithful to my needs, and I express my sincere gratitude for his giving the world that phrase.)

Awhile back, I was asked in an interview what advice I might give to autistic individuals and families who are seeking to strengthen their connections to God and their faith communities. My response from then fits very well with the way I recommend forming our Lenten resolutions.

First: Understand what autism is, and what it is not.  Learn about autism from neuroaffirming sources and from fellow autistic people. 

Second: Consider that the autistic neurotype is part of God’s design, and contemplate the intentionality of that being part of our lives.  How have the autistic aspects of our lives shaped us, and how have they shaped the people around us? 

Third: Consider consecrating our autism to God, that He may lead us to where we will be most fruitful, exactly as we are.

Fourth: Be forthright with our needs. The more comfortable we are with our limitations, the more others will become comfortable supporting them. It takes mutual, voluntary humility to admit when we don’t know what to do but are willing to support one another in figuring that out together. 

Fifth: Never forget that God loves us and knows our limitations. So long as we sincerely desire to grow ever closer to God, we cannot let Him down or disappoint Him simply because we are neurodivergent or are struggling to keep up with the obligations and demands on our processing. 

Sixth: Keep the conversation going as long as it takes for the people in our parishes to better understand and support its autistic members of all ages, not just children.  And: Remember that starting a “conversation” does not necessarily require speaking or depend on traditional communication. It was St. Francis who said we do well to preach the Gospel at all times, but use words only when necessary… and it was the one-person-at-a-time example of St. Thorlak, not his words, which comprised his legacy and led to his canonization. Being authentically and cheerfully who we are, autistic and all, is mission work to the rest of the Church.

Once again this year, Autism Consecrated is offering Daily Intentions for Autism’s Belonging in the Body of Christ as a season-long deep-dive into various aspects of neurodivergence, seeking in prayer to build better understanding of and support for neurodiversity in our parish communities. These daily reflections serve as a prayer for the Church, but can also be a means of learning more about our neurobiological infrastructure, in line with the Lenten resolutions suggested above. The Daily Prayers for Autism’s Belonging are free for individuals and groups (including parishes) to pray, print, download and share.

Likewise, The Scriptural Stations of the Cross for Autistic People by autistic Catholic priest Fr. Mark Nolette are based on his firsthand experiences and a desire to unite the gifts and challenges of neurodivergence to the suffering and redemption of Jesus. This devotion may be accessed directly on our website or downloaded in print and audio formats (English).

And then, the Prayer to Consecrate Autism is also on our website, free to access and download and pray for ourselves or on behalf of someone close to us.

Let us all pray that the upcoming season of Lent will be fruitful for all of us, in the ways we need that most.

 

 

 

 

 

The Better Part

by Aimée O’Connell, T.O.Carm.

 

In a previous post, I talked about how tricky it can be to recognize the signs of neurodivergent burnout, how long-term masking can contribute to impostor syndrome, and how these factors together create significant obstacles to our spiritual health. In my opinion, this is where the Church needs to focus attention when asking how to reach out to and support neurodivergent members. We need to ask: What can the Church do that isn’t already being done by service agencies, advocacy groups and autism professionals? How can the Church speak to the humanity of the people we want to reach?

In my opinion, we do well to be less concerned about “best practices” and more concerned with simply spending time with Christ before us. In terms of the story of Martha and Mary of Bethany, we can say there are more than enough Marthas in the world with programs and protocols that help us feel like we’re “doing something” for autistic people. Yet – burnout and impostor syndrome still persist, even within the Church. Maybe that’s because the world (and the Church) is lacking the necessary balance provided by the Marys, who lead with an intuitive, often impractical sense of hospitality instead of following the expedient but impersonal suggestions contained in the three-ring binders of the Marthas.

I say this while considering those things which most often contribute to burnout and impostor syndrome, such as:

  • Forcing our executive functioning to operate at a pace it is not designed for or equipped to handle
  • Rationing our accommodations and supports for “once in awhile” or “only when we struggle” – when our need for neurological support is at all times
  • Setting goals for ourselves based on neurotypical benchmarks and assumptions which our neurological infrastructure cannot sustain
  • Acting as though neurodivergent differences are a question of “mind over matter” and can be extinguished through positive thinking, behavioral conditioning, dying to self, and other such maxims
  • Embracing these maxims as good discipline without first asking who (or what) we are seeking to serve, or why
  • Quantifying our worth in worldly terms such as social capital or tangible contributions
  • Adhering to disproven assumptions about neurodivergence made by neurotypical people (which were never accurate, and have been greatly amended in recent academic and professional discussions)

Mary of Bethany may not have set out to subvert the tyranny of custom, but she certainly made that statement when she “wasted” so much of her time and expensive oil on Jesus. And yet, we do well not to confuse her behavior with fawning: Mary was neither making a spectacle of her devotion nor trying to gain favor with Jesus. In my estimation, she was simply acting on a deeply intuitive sense of hospitality, and doing a rather good job at that.

In Mary of Bethany, neurodivergent people might find someone who knows not to hurry us when we need extra time to get to the point.… who knows not to cajole or prod us on when we say we’ve reached our limit… who knows how to adjust plans because the opportunity to sit with Christ is more important than making him adhere to the activity agenda… who generously provides for our sensory comfort even in the face of scorn and ridicule and comments about enabling us, as she knows instinctively that our bodies engage and respond to human connection more easily when we are not overwhelmed by light, sound, texture, dampness, smell and temperature fluctuations.

We can guess that Mary of Bethany’s hospitality does not worry about scarcity, especially when the One who fed the five thousand on five loaves is really and truly present. And, if Jesus had some “special need” which required an extra “something” to relieve that distress during His stay, Mary would think it absurd to only make that available on a schedule (like, say, every third visit to Bethany, or once every three months, whether Jesus is in Bethany or not) … or to pretend not to notice His need because she didn’t want the apostles to feel left out… or to leave Jesus in His distress because He needs to learn to cope on His own.

Back to the actual story: What does Jesus say when Mary is called out for her foolishness, ignoring protocol, acting inexpediently, and encouraging wastefulness and indulgence?

“Mary has chosen the better part.”

Mary, it seems, is not blindly obedient to maxims. Mary’s Lord is the One she welcomes without hesitation – not the Lord of Normal, who demands conformity and measures transgressions in standard deviations.

How do people of faith address burnout and impostor syndrome? By asking ourselves which Lord we serve. By not prioritizing appearances and protocol over Christ, Who dwells within us and sits before us. By choosing the better part.

 

 

Icebergs on icebergs

Picking up where we left off…

Autism Consecrated is hoping to start specifically naming the underlying things which erode our spiritual health, in hopes that identifying them will help the wider church community better understand and support ND needs. This iceberg here is itself the tip of a bigger iceberg (perhaps an entire armada of them) where our faith is concerned. Things like examinations of conscience, teasing out morally neutral neurodivergent traits from what is consciously sinful (without getting tangled up in criticisms which do not account for our legitimate processing differences), prayer, fellowship, engagement with scripture, why we need sensory support EVERY WEEK and not just once every three months at a “special” service… and many more. So much has yet to be addressed by people in the Church to acknowledge the gaping holes in our spiritual formation and support. The Church needs to hear from autistic people about our experiences and struggles, and autistic people need to feel safe and heard in sharing them. Let us pray this will happen.

 

When diagnosis and treatment are not enough

by Aimée O’Connell, T.O.Carm., and Fr. Mark Nolette

 

Maybe you’ve sat with a doctor or therapist and gone over questionnaires. Maybe you’ve done your own research in books and online. Maybe it’s for your own needs, and maybe it’s for a loved one. But here you are, with the name of something concrete – Autism, ADHD, Anxiety, Depression, Bipolar, Borderline, OCD, or similar and related diagnoses – along with a list of best practices, a plan for therapy, maybe even a prescription. It is a relief to know what you’re dealing with, and to have an outline of how to deal with it.

 

Then, you’ve got your faith to get you through. You’ve got church, the sacraments, a support network of wonderful, caring people, and a wealth of spiritual reading and podcasts to encourage you. You might have a gratitude journal and some Scripture quotes at hand, and inspirational books by renowned authors who remind us that with God, all things are possible, and we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us.

 

So, why isn’t it working?

Why do we still feel empty?

 

Two possibilities: Burnout, and spiritual impostor syndrome.

 

“Burnout” here is not the idea that we need a vacation or that we’ve gone too long without having fun. “Burnout” here refers to neurological exhaustion, below the conscious level, which is not something we can manipulate with willpower or even completely prevent, if we are neurodivergent. Our bodily processing systems run 24/7, and anything we do that requires executive functioning (which is… everything) will add to the neurological processing load. Negotiating our sensory environments, both by having to filter out the excess stimuli imposed by our surroundings and by having to seek baseline stimuli in places we are forced to be still, contribute to that load. As our executive functioning begins to suffer, our capacity to be chipper and peaceful diminishes, and criticism from those around us increases. Burnout is whenever our load has been maxed out longer than we have been able to keep up. Basic neurological rest, a necessity for neurodivergent people, is portrayed as a luxury in the minds of most people, and not something we are typically allowed to do until after burnout begins.

 

In short: For neurodivergent people, depression and anxiety (and other mental health crises) are more often symptoms of burnout than standalone diagnoses.

 

To use an analogy, physical pain is often a symptom of something more complex at work. We can diagnose pain and treat it, and even take steps to prevent it, but if there is something beneath that pain – like, say, cancer – then treating the pain alone will not solve the problem, and our health will continue to deteriorate.

 

Here are some specific reasons why focusing only on depression, anxiety, and other mental health crises, is problematic when burnout is at play.

 

  • Most therapy techniques and self-help books on depression, anxiety and mental illness, including spiritual books, describe and employ behavioral approaches which require conscious control over our emotions and motivation – giving no thought to the health or capacity of our neurological infrastructure.

 

  • Any coaching, advice, therapy or self-help/spiritual book ought to account somewhere for the fact that moods, motivation and executive functioning depend on the health of our neurological infrastructure. Some do get there eventually, but usually it’s after a lot of focus on and unpacking surface symptoms, behaviors, and “attitudes.” Meanwhile, our neurological burnout continues unaddressed and depletes us (or adds to the deficit) even further.

 

  • Expecting anyone to feel gratitude, maintain motivation, or make resolutions when our neurological infrastructure is maxed out is unrealistic, a recipe for failure, and potentially harmful.

 

  • Neurological exhaustion is treatable with significant lifestyle adjustments and accommodations which need to be available at all times, not just until “things get better.”

 

To date, I know of no Catholic or any spiritual resources specifically addressing neurological exhaustion and burnout, or its effects on our spiritual lives. (Please, tell me if they are out there and I have missed them!) Which then leads to the next point: Spiritual impostor syndrome.

 

Neurodivergent people have very likely grown up being corrected and taught how to act in ways that are prescribed to and imposed on us, not spontaneous or authentic. We learn social scripts, and how to suppress big emotions, and how to behave well enough to be accepted by others. The cumulative effects of masking are just now beginning to be researched, and the impacts are dire. Human beings are not meant to follow scripts, nor are we meant to do things to earn other people’s approval – but this has been the thrust of most therapies and therapeutic techniques, even those best-intentioned, and it is what most people think of as “the right thing to do.”

 

A lifetime of masking our authenticity and working for other people’s approval takes a big spiritual toll. “Impostor” syndrome is what happens when scripts are “imposed” on us by people in charge. Their love or affirmation of us is entirely dependent on whether we follow their scripts. These scripts do not reflect our true needs, but nearly always reflect the “needs” of the people in charge to control and manipulate us. As a result, even when we follow the scripts and earn the approval of these people, we feel empty and hollow. We feel like impostors. If this was our experience as children, we are very likely to imagine God as also imposing scripts on us that have no relevance to who we really are and that His love and acceptance of us are wholly dependent on our following the scripts.  It’s what happens when the scripts become God.

 

How, then, do we take ourselves to prayer before God? Can we trust that we do not have to earn His love, too? Can we face God after we have unknowingly cooperated with our own shunning, cloaked in the idea that our neurological needs and expressions need correction (or that our traits are loathsome, bothersome, too much, not enough)? How can we forgive ourselves, and those whom we trusted?

 

How can we trust God?

 

Sometimes we might also need to ask –

 

Where has God been in all of this?

Why did God make me this way, only to let everyone tell me I’m defective?

Haven’t I suffered enough? Haven’t I already died to myself, over and over and over, ad nauseam?

If I am beautifully and wonderfully made, why am I still not good enough?

 

Any true “therapy” that deals with “impostor” syndrome begins with a fundamental sense of being loved by God that cannot be contained by or flow from any script. It is analogous to what happened to Saul of Tarsus on the road to Damascus. In the light of the love and grace of God, the scripts lose their power as their inadequacies become evident. The person who has been so touched by God will then need some time to rethink and reprocess his or her whole life in the light of the knowledge of being loved by a gracious God!

 

No spiritual resource on depression, anxiety, mental illness or even neurodivergence can be adequate by itself without looking squarely at these questions and entrusting the answers to God’s merciful love.

In the meantime…

Yes: We are loved by God.

Yes: We are beautifully and wonderfully made.

No: People may not have steered us in the right direction, as far as how we can thrive as neurodivergent people. That is only just beginning to come into the mainstream narrative. Good intentions are still good, but methods can also be re-examined and revised based on what we know better now.

 

No: Our moods or executive functioning capacities are not indicators of our spiritual skills, or our goodness as human beings, or our belovedness by God.

 

Yes: Gratitude journals are good things. But, No: They are not the hinge on which our mental health rests. When we are neurologically rested, we have the capacity to be grateful for many things. When we are neurologically exhausted, we need to focus first on restoring our neurological health, and then we can both think about and authentically feel gratitude. Imposing it on us, however it may be packaged, makes us… impostors.

 

To be continued.