Blog #526: The Downsides of Autism Withdrawal

If you have been following me for some time now, then you probably have heard me talk about autism meltdowns and sensory overloads. I've travelled this road many times and let me tell you, it's something that I always try to avoid, but have been unsuccessful.

Recently, I've been going through a very severe bout of autism withdrawal as I get ready to head down for my winter retreat in Sanibel Island, Florida. This withdrawal started with a winter storm, Winter Storm Fern if you are a fan of named storms, that was crippling the entire country. Like a lot of travelers, I had been tracking the storm and when I first saw that the storm was going to impact my flight plans, I reached out to Delta and adjusted to connect through Detroit instead of Atlanta on my way from Providence to Fort Myers.

But then, came Thursday. The storm was now moving north and Detroit was going to be impacted along with the rest of those who were in the path. On top of that, we here in Massachusetts were going to get a pretty powerful punch of this storm. In fact, as I write this blog, it's snowing 2-4 inches an hour. Ultimately, a decision was made to fly out on Tuesday, but here is where the withdrawal really kicked in:

It was determined that my folks and I all fly down together on a direct flight from Providence to Fort Myers on another airline, which in this case, is JetBlue. My folks know that Delta is my go too airline, however, this was one time that they had to make the decision of how we were going to get down to Sanibel.

You might be wondering how did I react?

Well, I didn't protest, I didn't argue, I didn't get into a shouting match with them because what good was that going to do? Being told that we were switching airlines and flying together clearly was something that my mind couldn't take. Knowing that I had very few options in front of me and not knowing what aftermath the storm would bring on the airports, I had no choice but to agree with them.

However, it did help a little bit knowing that this was a change that impacted them as well. We like our space, we have our routines, but these were circumstances that we weren't going to fight. Even three days after making this agreement, my brain and overall nervous system is still having a hard time adjusting to the routine. I've been trying to tell myself that this is a one time thing and all the other trips will be done solo, but again that's easier said than done.

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Then, there is the matter of pretending to go along with the plan. Not showing the anxiety over a decision that has already been made. I often ask myself, "Why? Why am I feeling like this? Why am I not feeling grateful that I wasn't going to be at risk of the aftereffects of this winter storm?"

I've been trying to hide my feelings from my folks because there are some sides I'd much rather not show to them over something that is already signed, sealed and delivered. Why would I get upset over something that cannot be undone? It could have been worse had I stuck with my original plan and stranded in Detroit or Atlanta. I'm also mad at myself for not considering taking the direct Delta flight from Boston to Fort Myers in the beginning, but there is nothing I can do about it now, what's done is done and we need to focus on what is in front of us right now.

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I tell this story because autism withdrawal is just like autism burnout. According to ChatGPT, It could be, what I'm describing also fits really well with a few very common autism-related stress responses that aren’t necessarily “withdrawal” in the classic sense.

What “autistic withdrawal” can look like

People sometimes use that phrase to mean: after a big stressor, you feel a pull to shut down, avoid demands, reduce interaction, lose words, or need lots of quiet to recover. It’s less “I don’t want to go” and more “my system needs to go offline to reboot.”

Other explanations that fit just as well (and often overlap)

Autistic shutdown: your brain gets overloaded and goes into low-power mode—slower thinking, less flexibility, more sensitivity, and a desire for quiet/structure.

Perseveration / rumination: your brain keeps replaying the decision because it’s trying to restore certainty and control.

Demand avoidance under stress (not a diagnosis, just a pattern): even good plans can feel like “too much” when your bandwidth is low.

Illness recovery effects: I'm getting over a week long head cold; being sick lowers sensory tolerance and raises baseline anxiety.

So: yes, it could be a withdrawal/shutdown-style recovery response, but you don’t need a special label for it to be valid. What matters is treating it like nervous-system recovery + restoring predictability.

A quick self-check to identify what mode you’re in

Pick the closest:

A) I want to go, but my body says “nope” → shutdown/overload.

B) My thoughts won’t stop replaying the decision → rumination/perseveration.

C) People talking/logistics feel unbearable → sensory/social overload.

D) I feel flat, foggy, and slow → recovery/low bandwidth.

(You can be more than one.)

If you were to take a guess at what letters are more relatable, I would have to say letters B and C. This is known as rumination + sensory/social overload is a really common pairing: your brain keeps “looping” on the decision and extra input from people/noise makes the loop louder. But there is a way to reset the brain and resist the rumination:

1) Shut off the loop fuel (10 minutes)

No weather/news/flight checking for 10 minutes. Those updates feel like control, but they keep the loop alive.

Do this instead:

Put on headphones/earplugs.

Set a 10-minute timer.

Write a 3-line “closure statement” (copy/paste this if you want):

Decision is made.

The plan reduces variables.

I’ll re-check only at (time).

Pick a single re-check time later (e.g., tonight at 7pm). One check, not many.

2) Reduce social/sensory input with a clear signal (right now)

Choose a phrase you can repeat verbatim:

“I’m overloaded. I’m going quiet for a bit.”

“I need low input right now—nothing’s wrong.”

“Headphones on = regulating.”

If your mom tends to keep talking/logistics, add:

“If something changes, tell me in one sentence.”

That keeps you from absorbing the whole anxiety stream.

3) Give your brain a “next action” that isn’t travel (15 minutes)

Rumination needs a channel. Pick one small, non-travel task:

shower + change clothes

make tea + snack

tidy one surface

pack one category (chargers/meds)

Completing something physical tells your brain “we’re safe and moving forward,” which quiets looping. Again, all of this is easier said than done and if you think it relates to travel strictly, you are sadly mistaken. It can to anything that we have planned and our brains have a hard time adjusting to the changes that were out of our control.

Even when the decision is final, your brain can keep firing anxiety for a bit because certainty in your thinking doesn’t instantly translate into calm in your nervous system. What you’re describing is really consistent with “post-decision activation”: your system is still coming down from the surge of change, weather risk, sickness, and family dynamics.

How long will it last?

For a lot of people (especially when sensory overload is involved), it fades in waves over a few days, and often drops noticeably once you hit one of these milestones:

the plan stays unchanged for 24–48 hours,

you’ve slept a couple solid nights,

you get through the “high friction” parts (packing / airport / security),

you’re on the plane and the environment becomes predictable.

If it’s still very intense for weeks or is getting worse, that’s when it’s worth talking to a clinician. But in the scenario you’ve described, “a few days with flare-ups” is a common pattern.

Why is this happening to me now even though the logic is sound?

Because anxiety isn’t a logic problem—it’s a pattern-matching + body state problem.

These are the main drivers in my case:

My brain learned a “travel threat pattern” from the November near-miss (diversion/stranding risk) coming back from San Diego. Even if Tuesday is different, my brain goes: “travel change + winter storm talk = danger,” and it takes repetition to unlearn.

I lost my usual script (Delta + solo) and temporarily don’t have a fully practiced script for JetBlue + family. Novelty = vigilance.

I'm still recovering physically. Illness and poor sleep reduce my tolerance and increase anxious activation.

Rumination is my brain’s attempt at control. It keeps reviewing the decision not because it’s wrong, but because it’s trying to prevent future surprise.

And the thing I said to myself after the change was made—“I’m flying Delta in April and earning United miles now”—is actually a good sign. My planning brain is intact. My nervous system just hasn’t caught up yet.

The fastest way to help it catch up (without “forcing” calm)

Stop re-litigating the decision. Every “but what if…” review teaches your brain it’s still unresolved.

Pick one scheduled check-in time for travel logistics (once daily, max).

Make my travel day of Tuesday a low-input day: parallel travel, headphones, minimal discussion until you’re through security.

A one-sentence mantra that often works for this exact loop

“My job isn’t to feel calm right now—my job is to follow the plan.”

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Of course, everything I talk about here is entirely true. When you encounter a major change that you can't easily adjust to, it's like a long and lengthy battle you just can't win easily. Ultimately, you're gonna have to accept the cards that have been dealt to you.

A living example of this is in the film adaptation of "Fiddler on the Roof" (1971). Tevye and his fellow townsfolk are suddenly forced out of Anatevka and react in a similar approach to what a neurodivergent individual reacts to a massive change.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t1DU2uzMMu8

As you can see, they try to resist what is being handed down to them, but they are ultimately resigned to pack up and move out of Anatevka. You might say that my folks and I had our "Fiddler on the Roof" moment where we had plans (my folks planned to fly direct on Breeze Airways from Providence to Fort Myers; I had planned to fly Delta through Atlanta, later Detroit from Providence to Fort Myers), but ultimately had to accept our fates.

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In conclusion, there's a quote that I'd like to share with you that I spoke about at my most recent training that I think resonates very well at the current situation:

What my folks and I experienced this week was a change that none of us expecting, but were forced to adapt to it. Perhaps Heraclitus' words ring true for all those who have plans turned upside down because of circumstances beyond our control that contributes to the autism withdrawal/shutdown. It isn't easy for them and it certain isn't easy for me, but as my late paternal grandfather once said, "This too shall pass."

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Catch you all later!!