Escaping the Hell of Functional Freeze
A low-spoons diatribe (great band name btw) about one of the biggest problems facing the neurodivergent community. Here I go, digging in again. 🥜
I sit in a broken recliner underneath a heated fuzzy blanket. Drab January sunlight reflects through bay windows, which no longer open because they’re missing a crank. I’ve asked our landlord to fix it several times and she just doesn’t.
I could watch home improvement videos and learn how to fix these things myself, but I can’t do that, because I can’t do anything, because for the last 31 years, I’ve been stuck in a state of functional freeze.
Functional freeze happens when we are so overwhelmed by chronic stress and emotional exhaustion that we become numb to our emotions and enter survival mode. On the outside, we may appear normal— able to go through the motions and fulfill our social obligations— but internally, we’re dying a slow death, frozen by the ever-present hum of our amygdala.
Among the four trauma responses— fight, flight, freeze and fawn— freeze might be the hardest for casual observers to notice. It’s usually pathologized and chalked up to personal shortcomings. Functional freezers are often labeled lazy, unmotivated, unambitious, entitled or selfish— a piece of shit, a burden, a failure. We carry this shame with us, accepting our place as one of society’s undesirables, but in doing so, we submit ourselves to a system that very obviously does not have our health and wellbeing in mind.
We’re constantly apologizing, which gets annoying after a while, I’m told. The incessant self-flagellation doesn’t help anybody. In fact, it just creates more emotional labor for the people around you. Shame is not your friend.
Our problem is: We’re constantly comparing ourselves to neurotypical standards that history has proven we’re not able to meet. So, we can either:
Keep banging our head against the wall and complaining that we have a headache
Accept that we have a disability, reject society’s expectations and build a system that works our brain, specifically
This whole myth that we’re bad or undisciplined people because we struggle with executive functioning— throw that shit in the dumpster, Ron Swanson style.
Shame is a pretty useless emotion overall and will only trap you further in the hell of functional freeze. The question you should be asking is:
How do I get out?
Let’s explore!
Noticing Functional Freeze
We can’t escape hell if we don’t know we’re in hell. When we’re living in a state of chronic dysregulation, we tend to disassociate. This is understandable. Your brain is trying to protect itself from an unsustainable situation.
Nobody wants to have meltdowns every day. Instinctively, our nervous system will do its best to keep its head above water, but all that unprocessed stress will begin to burble up from our subconscious if we don’t notice the warning signs.
Mental sensations of functional freeze
It’s Saturday. My brain is mashed potatoes. The ONLY thing I have to do today is work on this article, but I can’t think because I didn’t sleep because I drank a Coke Zero at 8 p.m. because I hate myself. Are we all caught up? Greattttt…
When I’m in a state of functional freeze, I’m not totally in the moment, I’m not totally disassociated. I’m switching back and forth like Everything, Everywhere, All at Once. I’m teleporting through the multiverse, working on three different problems simultaneously, spending too much attention on things that “don’t matter,” and not enough attention on things that “do.” I put these in quotation marks, because this distinction is largely subjective, cultural and has nothing to do with what the neurodivergent person actually wants. The problem isn’t a lack of ability, knowledge, or work ethic— it’s a lack of capacity to do things we don’t want to do that keeps us stuck.
Some mental symptoms of functional freeze I notice in myself include:
Fatigue: Why am I so goddamn tired all the time? I mean, sure, drugs, alcohol and Coke Zero have something to do with it, but I wasn’t able to sleep as a child, either. My mom got so frustrated, she just started letting me sleep. In high school, I’d wake up to the sound of my friend Frank honking in the driveway, throw on some clothes and run out the door. I failed two 8 a.m. classes in college due to lack of attendance. I was given warning after warning, detention after detention. None of it changed the behavior, because as it turns out, you can’t shame and bully someone out of being autistic and ADHD. But thanks for trying!
Poor working memory: When I’m dysregulated, I have the working memory of a County Fair goldfish in a plastic bag. You’re better off using me as a water balloon that expecting me to remember directions. I move through the world with no spatial awareness whatsoever. I can’t tell you how I got here or how I plan to get back. I have no idea where we parked. I don’t know what time it is and I don’t remember your name, but I’ll stand there and eat funnel cake with you and crack some jokes. Thank god I’m cute as hell. 😇
Out of control inner-monologue: This one might be more unique to me, but I’m having a pretty constant conversation in my head at all times. When I’m alone (or with my dog, who probably thinks I’m nuts), I will bring that conversation into the open, riffing out bits, trying out complicated ideas and rehearsing future conversations. This can be a useful self-regulation tool, but it can also get completely out of hand and lead to…
Burnout: When I’m already operating with low spoons, it doesn’t take much to push me over the edge. Combine this with my inability to shut the fuck up and you have a recipe for recurring burnout. Put simply, I don’t know how to relax. I grew up in an environment where getting *caught* relaxing was punishable by chores, so the strategy was to always look busy with something “important.” Growing up, I had to disguise my self-care, so as not to raise the ire of a brutal taskmaster, and I carry with me a lot of that trauma.
Slow processing speed: As you might imagine, going through these burnout cycles over and over again creates an atmosphere in which it’s very difficult to process information. I’ll have a conflict with someone important in my life and won’t even understand why until multiple days after the fact. This is because all these stressors pile up like papers on a desk, until the room is so full of 8.5 x 11 matte-coated card stock that it’s impossible to burrow out without full-body paper cuts. Call it cognitive constipation. Everyone just thinks I’m stupid.
Fear: It consumes my every waking moment. The other shoe is about to drop. Dad’s about to pull in the driveway any minute and start screaming. I’m about to get an email from my professor telling me I failed that test I didn’t study for. Someone’s about to leave a nasty comment EVSISERATING and EXPOSING me as the fake intellectual fraud that I am. The tiger is always right behind me in the bushes, I can feel his bloodthirsty gaze in the little hairs on my neck.
Physical sensations of functional freeze
It’s Sunday. My shoulders are tight. My forehead is wrinkled. My foot won’t stop tapping. I check to make sure no one’s looking before flapping my hands. I’ve moved to the library, hoping a change in scenery will help jostle the words from my moldy brain.
The main physical symptoms of functional freeze I notice are:
Muscle tension and tightness: I got dry needled recently, turns out my legs were just riddled with knots. I have the body of a 75-year-old sea captain.
Headaches: You ever get so overstimulated that watching TikToks physically hurts your brain? You ever scroll yourself into a migraine? Because I have.
Holding my breath: The amount of times my wife asks me, “Why are you breathing like that?” WHAT I’M NOT ALLOWED TO BREATHE?
Inability to regulate temperature: I notice this especially after I drink. It’s like I’m either freezing or sweating. Due to my lack of mobility, not to mention the functional freeze, I don’t exercise much, which means I have poor circulation. I’m not beating the 75-year-old sea captain allegations when I’m shivering in my timbers unless the thermostat says 70.
Hypervigilance: I have such a problem with this, especially in public. While my hyper empathy might make me a fantastic lover, it really gets in the way of my ability to have a good time in public. I’m very good at one-on-one interactions, but when you start adding two, three, four more people, now my attention is split five different ways and my CPU crashes because it doesn’t have the capacity to process all that information at once, causing me to drift back into functional freeze. It’s like trying to Twitch stream on a 2017 Mac Book Air. You get one subscriber notification, your whole building loses power for a week. I simply do not have the right equipment for the job.
The unquenchable thirst for Coke Zero: Seriously, what the hell are they putting in this stuff? It never makes me feel better, not one time, yet I crave it like oxygen. You know what it probably is…
Craving mind-altering substances: It makes sense, when your brain feels like mashed potatoes, to want to hit the reset button and start over. Maybe I’ll feel better after a cigarette? A shot of Fireball? A tiny bit of PCP? I’m talking, like, the smallest amount…
As you might imagine, someone experiencing the above symptoms isn’t able to hide it very well and it’s pretty obvious to everyone in the room that they want to die.
What functional freeze looks like (from the outside)
If you were an outside observer, an alien, or perhaps a spirit from Christmases yore, who through some fly-on-the-wall voodoo magic was able to observe me at all times, what would the omnipotent eye of my Sims creator see?
Rotting: A term popularized by white women on TikTok, rotting will be the death of my generation. We won’t die in some epic battle or from some horrible natural disaster, no, we’ll just waste away on the couch, accompanied not by loved ones, but by the warm, red glow of the Netflix “Are you still watching?” screen. In a million years, archeologists will find millennials encased in amber, phones still in hand.
Why go outside and risk social rejection when you can inhabit a predictable hell of your own creation? At least this hell has my Crazy Bones collection. New Crazy Bones unboxing video coming soon, I swear. Some of you might remember, I tried to stream on New Year’s Eve with my 2017 Mac Book Air and now I’m being sued by We Energies.
One minute, I’m looking up research on functional freeze, the next minute I’m watching a video like this wondering, “How did I get here?”
Oh right, I was in the middle of a bulleted list, sorry! 😅
Sensory seeking behaviors: There are non-mind-altering, zero calorie options you can choose AND NO I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT CAFFEINE FREE COKE ZERO. Stop trying to get me addicted to your poison! God, late-stage capitalism is annoying. Sensory seeking behaviors might include reaching for headphones, fidget toys, playing with animals— all more worthy pursuits than…
Switching between apps: I know this is what 99% of you motherfuckers do all day. It’s 2 a.m., better click on all my little squares, see if I have any red dopamine bubbles to pop.
Pop pop pop!
Here’s a BBW!
Swipe swipe swipe!
Here’s a big old ass!
Here’s some corporate propaganda!
Ad ad ad!
And another ass!
Second verse, same as the first, a whole lot louder and a whole lot worse!
Jesus Christ, late-stage capitalism is annoying.
Oh fuck, the list, that’s right. Do you see how frustrating this is?
Sex stuff: I’m not trying to kink shame you or nothing but you might notice a positive correlation between your levels of stress and horniness. I’m not gonna stand in the way of you blasting fat ropes, my guy, but I will tell you, in all seriousness, don’t overextend yourself. Don’t agree to do things you don’t want to do. Draw boundaries, not only with others, but especially with yourself. Don’t be the sucker who pays for Tinder Plus ($9.99 per WEEK— is Tinder drunk?). It doesn’t even let you see your likes, for that you need to buy Tinder Gold ($13.99), or you could even upgrade to Tinder Platinum ($17.99) which gives you 3 FREE super likes per week, what a deal! Truly desperate people might opt for Tinder Obsidian ($69.99 per day), which gives you the exact GPS location of everyone on the app, as well as access to their front facing cameras. Boost your profile for 12 hours for $129.99? How about I just Venmo you my entire bank account? Holy Spirit, late-stage capitalism is annoying.
Here I go, digging in again— desperately scrounging for dopamine in a peanut butter container that’s already been scraped dry.
Me, after spending a day obsessing over the strangers on my phone:
What the research says about functional freeze
I don’t pretend to be a thorough researcher, mostly because I have the working memory of a carnie goldfish and a manic inner-monologue that’s a helluva lot more entertaining than a wall of medical jargon delivered with the enthusiasm of a bison on benzos.
Research papers make my skin crawl, mostly because they bring up a lot of the inadequacy I felt in high school and college. I had no idea what was going on, 90% of the time.
I have a degree in English, I never read a single book in college. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I got through on writing ability alone. The professor knows I’m full of shit, the least I can do is give them a pleasant grading experience, throw a few jokes and F-bombs in there to spice things up.
“Ah what the hell, he had some good bits. I’ll give him a C.”
Instead of giving you a broad look at the all the literature on functional freeze, the way a thorough researcher would, I’m going to do what I did in college. Find one really helpful resource and base most of my writing off that. 😅
Enter Dr. Megan Neff. Please please please read her article on the Autistic and ADHD nervous system.
She writes:
“When we’re talking about trauma, anxiety, nervous system regulation, etc., the autonomic nervous system is the most important player.”
It took me a long time to grasp this. In my early days of exploring my neurodivergence, I was stuck in SHAME BRAIN, not realizing that feelings are just sensations that show up in the body physically. Our feeling brain feels something and THEN our thinking brain creates an explanation for it later. The narrative we tell ourselves (our ego) is nice and keeps us safe, but there are all these dark shadow motivations burbling beneath the surface. It’s your job to fish them out and try to integrate them into your personality, or you’ll eventually be consumed by them, stuck in a traumatized state of functional freeze like your MAGA-brained uncle-in-law. If we don’t want to end up like the boomers, we have to face that fear head on, we can’t turn away from it. We can’t hide anymore. We have to learn to walk with the tiger— not to kill it, but to tame it.
Escaping functional freeze is all about accepting reality at face value and taking an active role in managing your own nervous system. Write this shit down, bro, take a damn screenshot.
Y’all motherfuckers know about the Vagus nerve?
“The 10th cranial nerve, also known as the vagus nerve, plays a vital role in the parasympathetic nervous system, which is crucial for maintaining bodily functions during rest. Its name, derived from the Latin word “vagus,” meaning “wanderer,” reflects its extensive reach throughout the body. The vagus nerve connects the brain to many major organs, including the heart, lungs, and digestive system.”
The Vagus nerve is responsible for maintaining our window of tolerance, or essentially, how much shit we can handle in a day. Could you handle a SWAT team bursting through your window and trashing your house? Probably not. For most people, even neurotypicals, an experience like that would push them outside of their window of tolerance and into hyper-arousal.
Somedays, I feel like I can run a marathon, get in three fist fights, perform an hour of stand up comedy and even have enough energy left over to have a 15 minute conversation with my dad.
Other days, I feel good enough to take a couple of walks, make three stressful phone calls, do like a 5 minute guest spot and maybe text my dad.
And then on some days, I can’t even get out of bed in the morning, let alone check my email or leave the house. On my worst days, I can’t even think about my dad.
Being undiagnosed for 30 years, I didn’t know anything about this shit. The only example I had was a man who wakes up at 5 a.m., drinks four cups of coffee, takes the train to Chicago and spends his entire day in a state of hyper-arousal. He opts to push all this stress and anxiety down, believing that his comfort should always take a backseat to “getting shit done.” And you know what, he does get a lot of shit done! But it’s always at the expense of stressing out everyone around him. He simply has to get his way.
She writes:
“Research has shown that Autistic and ADHD individuals often have low vagal tone, contributing to what I call a “rigid nervous system.”
When discussing nervous system healing and improving resilience to stress, enhancing vagal tone is crucial. A higher vagal tone expands one’s window of tolerance, allowing for better stress management and adaptability.”
This is the goal. This is how we empower ourselves. This is how we escape. Please please please screenshot this helpful graphic from her website, Neurodivergent Insights, which I highly recommend for anybody looking to understand their nervous system better. (Please don’t sue me, I’m already buried in legal fees 😩)
When we talk about escaping functional freeze, we’re not talking about finding some magic coping mechanism that makes the feelings of hyper- and hypo-arousal go away. We’re talking about caring for your whole being so you can oscillate between these states less frequently.
Think of how many lives are affected, simply because the average person doesn’t understand anything about their own nervous system. How many divorces, arguments, even murders could’ve been avoided…
OK, so what do I actually do?
Expanding your window of tolerance comes down to a simple equation:
Skills utilized over time.
I can’t tell you which of the following coping skills are going to work for you. That’s something you have to figure out through a process of trial and error. I can tell you, the longer you engage in this process, the more of an expert you’re going to become at managing your nervous system.
Remember: Coping skills aren’t meant to take away all the discomfort you’re experiencing, they’re there to help you ride the wave. Some are meant to be used in a time of crisis, when you need to interrupt the feelings of functional freeze (disruptive), others are meant to deal directly with our physiological response to stress (self-soothing).
Here are some ways I’ve coped with functional freeze, rated on a scale of effectiveness, based on my personal experience.
Disruptive coping mechanisms for functional freeze
It’s Wednesday, my dudes. My pelvis is on fire, my penis is being electrocuted and I feel a meltdown cumming. Quick, what are some coping mechanisms I can use?
Cold exposure (3/10)
My therapist is always trying to get me to try this one. She tells me to put my face in a bowl of ice cubes (Where the hell am I gonna find a bowl of ice cubes?), take a cold shower, or put an ice pack on my chest to stimulate the Vagus nerve. I can appreciate the spirit behind this one, I just can’t ever bring myself to do it because I’m a wuss and I hate the cold. Speaking of which…
Sour candy (1/10)
Don’t like. Too sour. Am baby. 😭
Shock collar (-1/10)
I do not recommend this one.
Set alarms (5/10)
Setting alarms throughout the day is a much less painful way to zap yourself out of functional freeze. I gave it a five, because the alarms tend to be just as annoying as they are helpful. Like, am I remembering to eat three meals a day? Yes. Does the alarm go off in public, causing me to have a mini panic attack? Also yes.
Go to your quiet place (10/10)
I am a firm, rock-hard, engorged believer in removing myself from the room when I feel hyper-aroused. Is it embarrassing? Sometimes, yeah, but it’s a helluva lot better than having a full-blown meltdown in front of coworkers. I’ve noticed neurotypicals tend to have a hard time separating the meltdown from the person. After you hurl your computer monitor at the wall, they’ll gonna forever see you as that secret psycho who needs to be removed from the premises.
“Turn off his FOB before he shows up with an AR-15!”
PLAN AHEAD.
Find your quiet place. It could be in the woods, like Rod. It could be in a garage, your car, the basement, the shower— wherever you can be totally free.
Breathing (10/10)
I couldn’t go a day without it.
In through the nose, out through the mouth. Or if you’re adventurous, you could try— in through the nose, out through the ear.
In through the ass, out through the mouth? I mean, I guess if you’re into that sort of thing.
Stimming (7/10)
All my stims had been beaten out of me by the time I reached adulthood, but ever since my diagnosis, I’ve really enjoyed reconnecting with my younger autistic self. I find relief from running the tips of my fingers over Crazy Bones in my pocket, shaking out my hands and…
Jackin’ it 😎 (6.9/10)
OK, so maybe this isn’t everybody’s favorite topic to talk about, but masturbation is a stim. It releases dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin and provides a bit of a reset for our brain, which can help us get back into our window of tolerance.
Like anything else, flicking your bean can be a tool or a cage, depending on the context and dosage.
Sensory brush (2/10)
I didn’t get much from the sensory brush, BUT I WILL SAY, soft blankets and back scratches from my wife are a fantastic way to signal to my muscles that it’s time to relax.
Vergence (2/10)
Also suggested by my therapist, vergence is a grounding technique that involves shifting your focus from close up to far away. I’m too stupid to understand why this works, but it supposedly does. I just haven’t had much luck with it yet, but I’ll keep trying it.
Shoulder taps (4/10)
Also called “havening,” crossing your arms and taping the opposite shoulder with your hands, the way autistic comedian Fern Brady does around the 2:30 mark of this video, can provide a bit of relief in a tough spot.
As you can probably tell from the scores above, I’ve really struggled finding coping mechanisms that work for me in the moment. This is all the more reason to take care of my body throughout the day, something I also consistently do not do.
Self-soothing coping mechanisms for functional freeze
It’s Thursday and I just slipped on a patch of ice because my landlord refuses to fix the gutters. I should probably engage in some self-soothing activities.
Music, Dancing & Singing (10/10)
I would not be able to get through my day without bedroom pop, so thanks, lesbians. Something about Gen Z women crooning about scissoring each other over post-ironic synth beats activates my parasympathetic nervous system. I don’t care if Clairo’s an industry plant, I’m trying to “be where my feet are” right now.
There was a study that said dancing added the most happiness to a person’s life, so maybe get off your phone and shake your ass from time to time.
You can sing, too, just not within earshot of me, please.
Doom Scrolling (1/10)
Someone posted recently:
“Stop getting mad at me for doom scrolling, it’s not my fault there’s doom on there.”
And they’re right. It’s not your fault, but it’s also not your responsibility to be Nicholas Cage in National Treasure, piecing together all the clues. I mean, it’s great that you have the pattern recognition skills to be able to do that. We’re very proud of you. Gold star! ⭐️
But you won’t stop ranting and it’s upsetting the dog, so maybe we just look at some funny memes for a while?
Meme Compilations (8/10)
Pets (9/10)
I go back and forth on this one. When I’m trying to write and she’s ringing the bell every ten minutes, LYING about having to go potty, I want to put her in a box (WITH AIR HOLES) and ship her to wherever they let the dogs run free.
Do they have a dog island? You guys know about Snake Island in Brazil? I’m picturing something like that but it’s covered in fire hydrants. The only fireman on the island is Clifford the Big Red Dog? Does this place exist or not? I’m too functionally frozen to Google things right now. The point is…
On one hand, she’s very annoying. On the other hand:
Spending time in nature (10/10)
Do you know that feeling when, outside of the little green peppers on frozen pizza, you haven’t eaten vegetables for like a month, and then you eat a salad and your body’s like:
I hung out in nature for the first time this year and it kinda felt like that.
Meditation (1/10)
I know, I know, I know.
The novel you’re about to leave in the comments is true and valid and I’m glad meditation works for you, I just can’t bring myself to do it. I get stuck in these monotropic focus spirals and rumination loops and before I know it, it’s 10 p.m. and I need to take a trazodone and go to bed or I’m gonna fuck up my sleep cycle.
It’s something I’m definitely still open to, I just struggle with the non-stop inner monologue. It’s impossible to turn off unless I coat my nervous system with Jim Beam. Drunk meditation— is that a thing? My leg hurts so bad, I just want this article to be over. 😩
Somatic therapy (N/A)
Never tried it, but I hear it helps!
Probiotics and Omega-3s (N/A)
Never tried it, but I hear it helps!
Exercise (N/A)
Never tried it, but I hear it helps!
Self-compassion (10/10)
Longtime readers of Autism After Dark know I bring up self-compassion in basically every article. It’s kind of annoying at this point, but I do it for a reason— self-compassion was the single most helpful concept I learned early on in my mental health journey.
The fact that being kind to yourself is introduced as this revolutionary idea really speaks to where we’re at in 2025. Late-stage capitalism has stolen our time, destroyed our brains and convinced us that we’re to blame. Self-compassion is a really effective antidote to the propaganda.
Getting back to basics: Sleeping, eating and drinking water (10/10)
When you catch yourself in a doom spiral, ask:
“Am I tired? Am I hungry? Do I need to refill my water bottle?”
If the answer to any of these questions is yes, do it.
If the answer is no to all three, feel free to carry on with your meltdown.
Hardcore BDSM (100/10)
The safe word is “hhhwhiskey.”
Laughter (10/10)
Let me and other functional freezers know what works for you in the comments!
Or are we looking at this all wrong?
Maybe, instead of an individualistic approach, focused on self-regulatory activities, we need more of a community-healing approach. That’s the approach the Native Americans took before we genocided them, and next thing you know, there’s trace amounts of Lexapro in large-mouth bass. Even mother nature’s depressed. Maybe late-stage capitalism sucks and doesn’t provide us with the answers we need to actually heal. Just a thought, from my sertraline-coated goldfish brain.
Maybe the solution is community, people accepting and assisting each other through their problems, instead of belittling them, punishing them, or profiting off their misery.
Remember… helping, guys? That shit they talked about on Barney and Mr. Rodgers? Loving thy neighbor as yourself, you guys remember Jesus? We can accomplish a lot on our own, but I think the missing piece to solving our functional freeze problem is an increase in the world’s overall collective empathy.
We are so cooked.
I’m going to end with a poem by Charles Bukowski:
Lost"
they say that hell is crowded, yet,
when you’re in hell,
you always seem to be alone.
& you can’t tell anyone when you’re in hell
or they’ll think you’re crazy
& being crazy is being in hell
& being sane is hellish too.
those who escape hell, however,
never talk about it
& nothing much bothers them after that.
I mean, things like missing a meal,
going to jail, wrecking your car,
or even the idea of death itself.
when you ask them,
“how are things?”
they’ll always answer, “fine, just fine…”
once you’ve been to hell and back,
that’s enough
it’s the greatest satisfaction known to man.
once you’ve been to hell and back,
you don’t look behind you when the floor creaks
and the sun is always up at midnight
and things like the eyes of mice
or an abandoned tire in a vacant lot
can make you smile
once you’ve been to hell and back.
— Charles Bukowski, Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame
Eternally grateful for this. 🤘
I really enjoyed reading this. I don’t know if I’m neurodivergent but I told my therapist this week I want to be evaluated, even though I’m in my 70s. Been mentally ill most of my life so there is that. I really like the self compassion…I’m grateful I no longer have to keep a job so if I need to spend a day or two in bed, then that’s what I do. A number of family members consider me a slacker but another part of my self compassion is that I have cut those family members out of my life. It’s made a world of difference.