Finding Joy When All Hope is Lost

In Episode 10 of the 2026 “careless era” series, Annelise shares her personal burnout recovery and how joy can feel distant after years in survival mode, especially for high functioning autistic women. She explains how chronic masking, overload, and pressure can keep the nervous system in sympathetic urgency or dorsal shutdown, leaving little room for pleasure, desire, or curiosity, and contrasts this with ventral vagal regulation where calm, safety, and connection allow joy to emerge. She reframes joy as something that returns through small moments of safety and softness rather than as a reward for achievement, offering sensory and relational examples like quiet mornings, textures, rain, laughter without masking, and special interests. She closes by inviting listeners to join a waitlist for a small support space focused on boundaries, rumination, regulation, and rebuilding life without constant performance.

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Transcript

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Hello everyone and welcome to the Women Who Are Autistic. The podcast we're being different isn't just accepted. It's celebrated. I am Annelise. Your life, career, and financial coach. And I help autistic women build lives that feel aligned, meaningful, and unapologetically authentic. Each week we'll explore neurodiversity identity, work money, and the messy magic of being human. If you are new here or are not aware, this New Year's series for 2026 is all about being in a careless era. This is episode 10 of the season. If you have not yet listened to the others, I encourage you to do so as each episode builds on the other. I wanna say this gently. I'm not offering advice. I'm not telling you what you should or shouldn't do. I'm just sharing what I'm unlearning. What I'm relearning and what's helping me right now. So please take what feels supportive, leave what doesn't. And if at any point listening feels like too much, you're allowed to pause, skip, or stop. Remember, your nervous system gets to lead here. One of the quieter things that happens when you've spent years in survivor mode. Is that joy becomes unfamiliar, but not impossible, just distant. You might still function, you might still achieve things, you might even excel in life, but the sense of aliveness, the spark, the desire, the curiosity, the simple pleasure in being here can feel muted flat. Like it's behind glass. You might even wake up and be aware that you're living life just passing by and not even realizing what it is you're doing anymore. And if you're high functioning autistic woman listening right now, I bet you this lands somewhere deep because I'm right there with you. See, I'm in the middle of my own nervous system, burnout, recovery. I have spent so long in that high functioning survival gear. I was masking. I was pushing myself to the limits, managing everything, and the joy? I couldn't even tell you what that is. I didn't even know. Somebody came up to me and was like, what brings you joy? That feeling, that word alone is unrecognizable. It was unrecognizable. It felt like something other people had, something I'd get to later after I fixed all the things that. Was making me not be part of this world. Some things that I didn't realize were my power, my strength, my gift to this world that I felt like I had to fix in order to belong. But here's what's starting to shift for me and what I'm so excited to share with you. I've learned joy isn't waiting for some perfect healed version of yourself. It's starting to peek through right in the middle of recovery, and that feels honestly thrilling. Survival mode, prioritizes safety, predictability control, energy conservation. Yes, all those things are important, but they shouldn't be the master of your life. See, they don't bring in joy. Survival mode doesn't bring in pleasure. Survivor mode does not bring desire. Your nervous system doesn't prioritize joy when it's trying to keep you safe and mine didn't either for a very long time. But when protection starts to soften, that's when things really get interesting. So let's talk about the nervous system side. Simply. We have covered this immensely through this season, but I do want to touch on it briefly. When we live in chronic survival, whether that's for masking, sensory overload, relational stress, burnout, or just navigating a world not built for us, two main states tend to dominate. The first is your sympathetic activation, and that is your urgency state. This can be recognized as your heart is racing a little faster. You're always on alerts. Productivity mode is very high. You put pressure on yourself to do, to fix, to achieve, to constantly doing. Then when that burns out, we drop into dorsal shut down. And that's your numbness, your heavy fatigue, your disconnection from your body, from others, from motivation Everything feels great distance, and you have to put in so much effort. Neither of these states though leave much room for joy. See, joy needs something else. It needs your ventral vagal regulation, that state of calm, presence, safety, social ease, and curiosity. The state where your body can soften, breathe deeply. Notice beauty without scanning for threats in survival, the ventral vagal gets pushed offline. Pleasure, desire, aliveness. They require safety To emerge, your body has to feel it's okay to relax here. It's okay to want something. It's okay to feel good. Joy isn't something you force, it's something your nervous system allows, and I'm learning day by day that when my system finally gets a little safer, joy isn't this huge, overwhelming thing. It's quiet, it's gentle. It's surprisingly persistent. That realization alone has me smiling more than I have in years, and it's allowed me to allow people into my life. That are safe, that give me calm and make me feel at home. And I know that if I did not allow my nervous system to bring in joy in my life, I would not be able to have those things in my life because I wouldn't allow them. And maybe you're sitting there right now realizing the same thing. Just know you are not alone. Others are listening and going through the same thing, and I've went and I'm going through the same thing. So you're not alone. For many of us, this disconnection from desire runs even deeper. I high functioning autistic women often learn early to prioritize. Prioritize expectations for others. Like, what do I have to do to fit in? Do I have to get straight A's all the time to actually get noticed? Do I have to be the high performer at work? Whatever it may be for you. We also have to prioritize competence and performance, even other people's needs and comfort. And I just wanna add onto that, there's nothing wrong with noticing other people's needs and comfort, but when you're sacrificing your own and you're crying yourself to sleep because no one is there for you and you can't be there for yourself, that's where it gets gray and the joy is lost Us high functioning women also know that efficiency is above all. We get really good at it. We adapt, we excel, but over time, that focus crowds out space for our own internal world. Preferences get overridden. Curiosity gets shelved. Pleasure feels frivolous, and or unsafe. Spontaneity feels risky. You might find yourself asking, what do I even enjoy anymore? What do I actually want? Do I like this, or I'm just good at it? I asked myself those exact questions not long ago, and the answer was very humbling. I had no idea. I had no idea what I enjoyed. I didn't know if I enjoyed pasta over salad. I didn't know if I enjoyed painting. I didn't know anything about joy, and I'd spent so much energy adapting and performing that my own preferences felt buried, so I knew I had to do something about it. And everything that I've taught in this season is exactly what I did for myself and what I've been through, and that's why I am sharing it with you because I learned that uncovering them now, even tiny ones, feels like reclaiming a part of myself. I didn't know I'd lost and that's exciting. It really is because I know I will never wanna go back. I never wanna go back to that burnout self, that self that got lost. The part of me that the younger self, that enjoyed so much and it took me 15 years to get back. There's some misconceptions about joy though. Here's a common belief I hear. Joy will come when I achieve more. Joy will come when I get married and have kids. Joy will come in the future. It can't happen now. Once I fix myself, that's when joy will come. Once I'm confident enough, that's when joy will come. Once I'm finally healed, I'll feel joy for the first time. Guys, we think joy is a reward for hard work. A destination after we've earned it. But here's the truth, joy doesn't work that way. It doesn't arrive after we've leveled up. It often returns quietly. It micro moments of safety and attunement. It not as fireworks or big excitement though. It can be that sometimes, but it comes as a relief, as softness, as a gentle, this feels okay. Maybe even great for examples from so many women I've spoken with. And from my own days lately, a quiet morning with no demands, just coffee and sunlight. Your chest loosens. Your breath deepens, and there's this subtle warmth spreading from your center, like the body saying, yes, this is what life is supposed to be like. It could be even the texture of your favorite blanket or the smell of rain. Guys, the smell of rain is amazing where I live. It's so sweet. You just know it's gonna rain by the smell of the air. And one thing I lost through my burnout through the many years of burnout is the joy of dancing in the rain. And now, every time I smell that, I just wanna run out and dance in the street, no matter who looks at me because of that joy. And I want that for you too. Maybe there's a sudden tingling in your fingertips or a soft buzz through your limbs when joy comes around, like sparks gently traveling outward, or maybe laughter with someone who truly gets you. No masking required. Your face lights up. Your eyes sparkle. Your body might rock or flap a little bit because the feeling is so full it needs to move. Creative curiosity is also another one. You might doodle, you might hum. You get lost in special interest without pressure. Time melts away, surroundings, fade, and you're completely absorbed, consumed by this warm electric delight that radiates everywhere. These things I just described are not productive. They're restorative. They signal safety to your nervous system. And when safety is present, joy has permission to peek through. Joy often returns quietly, not as excitement, but as relief. And if you've been numb for so long. It might feel so subtle at first that you almost miss it, like neutrality, tipping into this isn't bad wait!. This actually feels kind of nice. So how do we begin? Again, not with big overhauls. That still feels too much for me some days, but it's with small, gentle signals. I've started noticing what calms my body, a dim room with no demands, the smell of coffee in the morning, wrapping up in a soft blanket without guilt even hugging the person that I love. These aren't grand. They make my shoulders drop. My breath slows, and sometimes there's this tiny flicker of this feels good. A gentle warmth flooding my chest like sunlight inside or soft tingling that starts in my hands and spreads, or asking my body to move just a little maybe rock side to side or hum quietly. If you've been numb or in survival mode for a long time, joy might not announce itself loudly. It might show up as a sudden lightness in your limbs like gravity eased up a fraction, your face softening without effort. Corners of your mouth turning up before you notice a buzz of sparks traveling through your arms or torso like happy electricity you haven't felt in years. The urge to stem in a good way, flapping, bouncing, spinning slowly because the energy is joyful. It needs release. Everything else fading away so the moment is all there is complete absorption in something small and beautiful. I'm practicing asking myself what feels slightly easier in my body right now. Not what should I enjoy? Just easier, safer. And when I stay with that question, curiosity starts showing up. Time softens. I catch myself humming again, singing in the shower, or lingering over a texture I like. Joy often starts as neutrality before delight. And I'm in that in-between space right now. It's not perfect. It's not constant, but it's real and it's growing and sharing that with you feels important because I want you to know I'm not talking from some finished place. I'm in the practice too, and my gosh, girls, anyone that's listening, it's so worth it. This kind of brings us full circle with what we've been exploring this season. We've talked a lot about identity, who you are, beyond the adaptations, independence, claiming your needs without apology, glimpses of change, small shifts in how you relate to yourself. Boundaries, protecting your capacity, relational safety, learning to tolerate connection without constant management. All of these create the foundation, and when that safety becomes more consistent, joy isn't far behind. It's starting to happen for me in small, beautiful ways. Aliveness is returning. Desire is whispering again, and I'm so excited to see where it leads. I'm just cannot wait because it only can grow from here, and I'm already so thankful and so joyful for the life that I have that I want that for you too. My fellow high functioning autistics out there or any neurodivergent person, or even someone who supports a neurodivergent person or high functioning woman, if joy feels far away right now, that doesn't mean you're broken. It usually just means your nervous system has been busy protecting you out of brilliance and loyalty for a very long time. And when that protection softens, when safety becomes familiar, aliveness has room to return, pleasure has room to breathe, you have room to feel alive again. If I'm any testament in the series, it is that. There is room to feel alive again. Maybe first it's a quiet warmth, a soft tingle, a moment where your body says yes without Before we close today, I wanna say something to those of you who have listened through this entire series. Over the past few episodes. We've talked about a lot of things that high functioning women are rarely given language for. We talked about what happens when performance stops being your identity. We talked about the myth of independence, about the first glimpse of living differently about boundaries without explaining yourself. And today we talked about something many people lose when they've been in survival mode for a very long time. Joy. What I hope you've heard throughout this series is that none of these patterns mean you're broken. They usually mean you adapted. You adapted to environments that required you to be capable, responsible self-managing, often without the support your nervous system actually needed. Understanding these patterns is important, but practicing something different is where change actually begins. And that kind of practice is hard to do alone, especially when independence has been the default for so long. So over the coming months, I am going to be opening a small space for women who want support practicing this work slowly and safely. A place to explore things like boundaries, rumination. Nervous system regulation and rebuilding a life that doesn't require constant performance. If that's something you'd like to hear more about when it opens, I've created a simple wait list where you can leave your name and email. It's not a commitment, it just means you'll be the first to know when that space becomes available. You can find the link in the show notes, and if you're not in a place for that right now. That's completely okay too. My hope is that these conversations continue to give you language, permission, and maybe even a little relief. Thank you for being here this season, and as always, take care of your nervous system. I'm genuinely thrilled to be on this path with you. If you're feeling even a tiny spark of curiosity or hope listening today, lean into that. That's the beginning. Thank you for being here, for trusting these conversations. Take a deep breath with me right now. Notice one small thing that feels even slightly easier. You deserve this. We deserve this. Sending you calm and compassion. Until next time.