What They Feel Like and Why It Matters

Why we need to talk about this

Shutdowns and meltdowns are common in AuDHD (autism + ADHD), but they’re often misunderstood, mislabelled, or missed entirely. These aren’t tantrums or dramatic outbursts. They’re nervous system responses. And understanding them changes everything.

What’s actually happening: the nervous system side

Shutdowns and meltdowns are both signs of overwhelm, but they show up differently because they come from different parts of the nervous system.

• Meltdown = fight/flight activation, the system is flooded with energy and emotion, trying to release it.
• Shutdown = freeze/fawn or collapse, the system is overwhelmed and tries to survive by going still, silent, or compliant.

Neither is a choice. Your brain is trying to keep you safe. The only problem is the world doesn’t always see it that way.

What shutdowns feel like

It’s like the plug has been pulled. You might go silent, lose the ability to speak or move, zone out completely, or feel emotionally numb. It’s not a decision – it’s a freeze.

You might:

• Lie in bed staring at the wall for hours
• Avoid messages or people because you literally can’t
• Go blank in conversations, feeling like your mouth just will not open to let words out
• Feel like you’re floating outside your body

It can look like sulking, laziness, or being cold. But it’s usually distress, not distance.

What meltdowns feel like

This one is louder. A meltdown often shows up as rage, sobbing, screaming, or panicked pacing. It can feel like your skin is on inside out, your chest is going to explode, or your brain has been hijacked by panic.

You might:

• Cry uncontrollably and not know why
• Lash out verbally or physically (even at yourself)
• Slam doors, tear up papers, throw things
• Beg someone to stop talking or leave you alone

Afterwards, it can feel humiliating. But during? You weren’t choosing it. You were drowning.

Why knowing the difference matters

When shutdowns get missed, people think you’re fine. You seem quiet or reserved. But inside, you’re falling apart. And when meltdowns get punished, you learn to bottle things up until you implode.

Recognising the signs earlier gives you a chance to intervene. Maybe you cancel that extra plan, leave the noisy room, or ask for five minutes alone. Knowing what’s happening helps you meet your needs, not shame yourself for having them.

The aftermath: owning impact, without blame

Here’s the bit we don’t talk about enough. After a shutdown or meltdown, there’s often debris – emotional, relational, or practical. You might have hurt yourself, snapped at your partner, missed a deadline, or scared someone who cares about you.

And it’s not your fault. But it may still have had an impact.

Accountability doesn’t mean shame. It means recognising that even when something isn’t deliberate, it can leave a mark – and then trying to repair, when you’re able. You get to be human and take responsibility.

A simple “I’m sorry I shut down earlier, I wasn’t in a place to talk” or “I know that meltdown was a lot – I was overwhelmed, not angry at you” can go a long way.

How to tell the difference – and what helps

	Shutdown	Meltdown
Nervous system	Freeze, collapse, dorsal vagal	Fight/flight, sympathetic activation
Energy	Low, drained	High, explosive
Outward signs	Silence, stillness, zoning out	Crying, shouting, pacing, stimming
Inside experience	Numb, disconnected, foggy	Overloaded, panicked, fiery
What helps	Quiet, darkness, low demand, rest	Soothing, space, co-regulation, grounding
What doesn’t help	Demands, questions, pushing to respond	Shaming, touching without consent, arguing

You can have both at once or switch from one into the other. It’s not either/or, it’s how your body copes.

The shame spiral

You’re not weak. You’re not dramatic. But the world often makes us feel like we are.

Shutdowns can look like passivity and get praised – until we are perceived as rude or stubborn for being unable to communicate. Meltdowns look like chaos and get punished – even when we’re just trying to survive. Both can leave us with guilt, confusion, or the urge to apologise for existing.

Let’s not confuse coping mechanisms with character flaws.

Let’s stop punishing survival

When you understand your responses, you can start meeting them with compassion, not control. These reactions aren’t signs you’re broken. They’re signs you’re overwhelmed.

You don’t need fixing. You need space, support, and softness.

Final thoughts

Shutdowns and meltdowns are messy, human, and valid. Knowing the difference doesn’t just help others understand you, it helps you understand you.

So next time your brain pulls the emergency brake, remember: you’re not lazy or mean or out of control. You’re overloaded.

And that matters.