What is an autistic meltdown? What are some ways to stop an autistic meltdown?

I appreciate many of the things already said; some are quite good. And were it two years ago or more, I’d likely not make this post; I rarely post now. However, as I’m currently writing yet another book, this one on the nature of love, I’ve made quite a few discoveries in the last two years. Not surprisingly, many of them have come from fights I and my companion, Hanna, have had.

All of them involve one or both of us having adult versions of autistic meltdowns.

Setting The Stage

To begin with, almost all discussions of people and relationships focus on how people behave, rather than on learning to recognize internal urges. All behaviors are preceded by measurable categories of patterns of urges. My most recent book details this. The problem, obviously, is that responses to urges vary greatly. This makes the choice that the authors of most technically-oriented, so-called scientific, psychology and personality text books make seem bizarre. All these authors focus on behaviors and rarely mention what precedes these behaviors, urges.

In my opinion, this is the first, and main, error people make when they try describe autism. Autism is an inside job. Behavior is not. By this, I mean, much happens in the person before behaviors even begin. No surprise, this includes what provokes, and what’s happening during, “autistic meltdowns.”

Ironically, many of these meltdowns come from the well-meant, but wrong-headed efforts, parents, therapists, and authorities frequently make, when they pressure autistic people to imitate proper behaviors. Why those people never seem to care enough to learn about what’s going on inside of us is never seen as an underlying cause. They accuse us of not caring. But we don’t understand why they seem to focus so often on getting us to be so self-focused.

As Socrates said, “The unexamined life in not worth living.” But as I wrote in one of my books, “the over-examined life is not worth living either.”

This is a part of why we melt down. All autistic people are pressured to over-examine their lives.

Now before offering an answer, I need to make an apology. There are many things I could say as to what these meltdowns actually are. But as space is limited here, I’ll try to slim it down. Partly due to my autism, admittedly, I rarely succeed at doing this. Hence my preemptive apology.

[1] Being Asked To Make A Transition: First, all autistic meltdowns happen in situations where the person is being asked to make a transition. The likelihood that these requests will result in a meltdown is directly proportionate to the degree to which the person has done this thing before. This likelihood escalates greatly in situations which involve basic needs, such as changes involving meals sleep, or travel. But it also frequently involves frustration resulting from what I call, “fuzzy language.

[2] Using Fuzzy, Rather than Fussy, Language: A question to you, the reader. Is the phrase “How are you” a question or a greeting? Neurotypical people use context to navigate this situation. However, most of what neurodiverse people say and think is context independent. This means we autistic folks generally try to memorize what to do in every single situation. Being this is obviously an infinite task, we all fail.

I so wish someone had taught me this years ago.

As for me, I learned I was autistic in the early nineties, when I read Dr. Lorna Wing’s first book. But it took more than a decade for me to discover this thing about fussy versus fuzzy language. How in the heck I have been able to successfully function as a therapist, in private practice, for many decades, still puzzles me. I suspect it is because human nature and personality is my special interest. But whatever the case, so much for the bullshit that states all folks with Asperger’s are cold. And yes, I know, most people have stopped crediting Dr. Hans Asperger for his work. Me? That’s never going to happen.

[3] Not Knowing What’s Expected Of You: This idea is the heart and soul of all meltdowns. This shit still happens to me, regularly and frequently. For example, recently, I expected a delivery from FedEx. I usually get these deliveries most weeks. A new driver came, and five times failed to ring my bell.

He did this despite the fact that after the first time, I covered my storm door with instructions. The main one stated, in 300 point text, that, “I am home. Please ring the bell.” After he failed to ring my bell twice, I began to have an autistic meltdown. The main internal driver? I had no idea what was expected of me. This package required a signature, and no redirection was allowed. So at times, I wished the man was dead. At other times, I imagined punching him in the face.

Obviously, as Caleb said in his answer, I would never want this to actually happen. But my rage was off the scale, all because I had no idea what I was supposed to do. After the fourth time, I called FedEx and filed a complaint. But I admit, throughout that phone call, I struggled to imitate being calm.

[4] Being Pressured to Imitate Normal: I just mentioned yet another frequent horror of being autistic; being asked, pressured, or instructed to imitate what neurotypicals see as normal. I wasn’t calm in that situation. I was furious. Why? Because all of the above problems were in play on that day.

Transition One. What had been, for years, the normal procedure for receiving a FedEx package had changed without explanation. This was Transition One. I wasn’t even given fussy words. No communication whatsoever. I also had no way to speak to the driver or to his boss. So the overall Fussy nature of the situation was killing me. I had no idea what was expected of me.

Transition Two. I needed what was in that package because not having it was already making me melt down. It was a new battery for my laptop. The old one no longer charged. The reason I was freaking out was because the TSA security checkpoints are, just now, implementing new rules.

Transition Three. The rule affecting me? Laptops have to boot. If they can’t, they either get taken away or you keep them and you don’t fly. And I am flying in a couple of weeks. So for the second time, I had no idea what was expected of me. The result? An autistic meltdown.

As for the other part of this question: So what could we do differently?

The biggest change in my relationship with Hanna has been the ongoing, ever-present awareness that beneath these meltdowns, we have both been having anxiety-attack-level anxiety. These painful urges feel like a desperate need to resolve all of the above. But merely seeing the anxiety in each other has all but eliminated our fights, almost all of which were preceded by one of both of us feeling this anxiety, the result of not understanding, or feeling understood.

So what could you do?

You could look for the anxiety in the person. And for goodness sake, don’t ask the person to tell you this in words. Look at their face. Look in their eyes. This person is a human being. If you treat them like you would any other human being, then don’t be surprised if they have fewer meltdowns.