My Brain Is on Fire

We’ve all heard about autistic meltdowns or shutdowns. But what if those words don’t capture the full picture? What if, instead of a temporary overwhelm, there’s something more terrifying and long-lasting—something I call “brain on fire”?

This is not a metaphor. It’s real. And for some NeuroDiverse individuals, it can feel like their minds are literally burning from the inside out—overloaded, overstimulated, and pushed to the brink of collapse.

I know this intimately. Because I watched it happen to my mother.

A Memory from 1964

I was 14 when my autistic mother had what they called a “nervous breakdown.” After reading the Book of Revelations, she became overwhelmed by terror, convinced the world was ending. The minister came. Then the ambulance. She was taken to the state mental hospital.

My sister and I weren’t allowed to visit her. We sat on cold plastic-covered furniture in the lobby, surrounded by shiny checkered tile floors. I’ll never forget that feeling.

A few days later, at a school assembly, I suddenly felt like I was going to fall out of the bleachers. My eyes seemed to be spinning in their sockets. My friend Sue gently walked me down, and later a kind counselor asked what was going on. I said, “Nothing.” But then I added, “Well… my mom was taken to the mental hospital last night.”

That’s how trauma shows up. Quiet. Confusing. And too often ignored.

What “Brain on Fire” Really Means

Years later, in my work with NeuroDivergent families, I hear similar stories all the time. Stories of autistic adults who suddenly stop functioning—who become silent, catatonic, anxious, disconnected. Their loved ones are terrified and confused. Professionals don’t always understand.

One mom told me her gifted son had a neurological collapse triggered by ADHD medication. Others describe it as burnout or brain collapse. I’ve seen this happen again and again—and still, we don’t have the right words for it.

This isn’t “just stress.” It’s not depression. It’s not psychosis, either. It’s a neurological implosion caused by years of sensory overload, emotional exhaustion, and trying too hard to “pass” in a NeuroTypical world.

And it hurts. NeuroDiverse people have told me their brain feels like it’s on fire. I believe them.

Nature, Nurture, and the Blueprint

This kind of collapse is part of what I call the Blueprint—the unique mix of genetics (nature) and life experience (nurture) that shapes how autistic individuals experience the world.

My mother didn’t have the tools. No one knew what autism was in 1964. Her stress built and built until her brain couldn’t take it anymore. And as her NeuroTypical daughter, I couldn’t help her—because I didn’t know how.

Years later, I realized I wasn’t just grieving her death. I was grieving the connection we never had.

She couldn’t explain what was going on in her mind. She didn’t have the words.

But I do.

And I’m speaking for her now.

How to Help When the Brain Is on Fire

When someone’s brain is on fire, they need relief—not judgment. Here are a few starting points:

• Space and quiet
• Weighted blankets or sensory tools
• Low-stimulation environments
• Compassionate therapists who understand autism
• Family who protects rather than pushes

And most of all: we need to recognize this isn’t a personal failure. It’s not “bad behavior.” It’s not even a mental illness in the classic sense.

It’s a cry for help from a system that has been stretched too far.

Join the Conversation: After Party Live Discussion

Let’s talk about it—together.

Join me for a live After Party conversation at www.drkathylearningcenter.thinkific.com. We’ll explore this phenomenon in more depth and support each other in finding clarity, compassion, and solutions.

Questions we’ll explore:

• Have you or a loved one experienced a prolonged shutdown or “brain on fire” episode?
• How do we distinguish between autistic overwhelm and psychiatric illness?
• What signs show up before the collapse?
• What does true support look like—for both the NeuroDiverse person and their family?
• How can we build systems of safety, empathy, and understanding?

You don’t have to go through this alone. There’s a community here for you.

With love and empathy,
Dr. Kathy