Meltdown: the autistic explosion

If shutdown is the implosion, meltdown is the explosion. A visible, loud, and often misunderstood crisis. The stereotype of the autistic person banging their head against a wall is common. For many autistic individuals, this is a real experience — but it is not universal. Still, many autistic people experience these crises to varying degrees and frequencies. A meltdown generates an intense emotional discharge that can leave the autistic person completely drained of energy. After discussing autistic crises more broadly, this article focuses specifically on meltdowns.

Meltdowns are my most intense crises. I’m familiar with them, even though they were more frequent when I was a child. Over time, I learned to mask them and redirect them into shutdowns, which are more socially acceptable. Yet even today, when the overload becomes too strong, I short-circuit — and a violent meltdown can hit me. It can even appear after a shutdown if the shutdown wasn’t enough to reset my brain.

Meltdown, the explosion

Just like a shutdown, a meltdown is triggered by overload: sensory, cognitive, social, or emotional. Emotional overload is, however, the most common source of meltdowns.

What’s important to remember is that there are often multiple triggers behind a meltdown. It isn’t a tantrum or poor emotional control — it’s a neurological response to overload that often comes from a buildup of factors leading to a breaking point. A tantrum or intentional anger has a goal — getting something or influencing the environment. In a meltdown, the autistic person is simply overwhelmed beyond their tolerance threshold. They are not seeking anything… except for the crisis to stop (Autism Ontario, differences between tantrums and meltdowns). This can lead to intense emotional distress and extreme internal chaos.

Comparison with fight/flight

I mentioned this in my article on autistic crises, so it makes sense to expand on it here. During a meltdown, the sympathetic nervous system goes into overdrive. This leads to a strong release of adrenaline (reward-linked neurotransmitter) and cortisol (stress hormone), as explained by Embrace Autism. The body tries to release excess energy caused by overload — which is why the reaction can resemble the fight response (agitation, aggression) or sometimes the flight response (panic escape). For more information on automatic fight-or-flight responses, you can refer to the Wikipedia page.

The key difference is that fight/flight reactions occur in response to an external danger, while a meltdown is triggered by internal overload. Even if the overload originates externally, the crisis occurs because the brain is overwhelmed. There is also a difference in duration: the stress response is short and stops when the threat disappears. A meltdown, however, continues, sometimes 10–15 minutes, sometimes more than an hour, especially if the autistic person cannot escape the environment causing the overload. My longest meltdown lasted around 1 hour and 30 minutes, even though I was at home, with only two triggers: a friend’s hypocrisy and an injustice I could not comprehend.

Manifestations

Meltdowns often come with a wide range of reactions, such as intense motor agitation, uncontrollable crying, screaming, or self-injurious behaviours. Stimming may also increase significantly, as the person tries to regulate an extremely overwhelming emotional state.

During a meltdown, the person may hit objects, walls, or—in rarer cases—people around them, or hit their own head. Two things are important to understand here: when someone hits themselves or objects, it is not intentional harm but rather an attempt to externalise distress because the physical pain (sometimes barely perceived) feels more tolerable than the emotional overload. As for hitting others, it is not only uncommon but completely outside the autistic person’s control—their intention is never to hurt someone. During a meltdown, it is therefore best not to intervene physically, and instead respond to the person’s needs as safely and calmly as possible.

Internal Experience

From the inside, a meltdown is often described as chaotic—like trying desperately to sort thoughts, resolve a conflict, or make sense of something that feels unjust or overwhelming. Meltdowns are frequently triggered by emotional or social overload, which makes the experience unbearable. The internal chaos is total: thinking becomes fragmented, sentences are difficult or impossible to form, and nothing feels coherent.

At the same time, sensory hypersensitivities become dramatically amplified. Even stimuli that are normally tolerated may suddenly feel unbearable. The person’s tolerance threshold drops drastically, and sensory input may be felt as extreme physical pain (tested and confirmed… many times). In that moment, their only viable options are often to escape or wait for the meltdown to end.

A meltdown is a buildup of overwhelming emotions. It’s important to remember that autistic people are often also alexithymic (meaning they struggle to identify, understand, and express their emotions). Experiencing a meltdown feels like riding emotional roller coasters without understanding what’s happening. With time and experience, I’ve learned to describe it: it feels like sadness, anger, frustration, and anxiety all at once. Before, I would just go through the meltdown without understanding the emotions underneath it.

How I experience a meltdown

My meltdowns usually happen for two reasons: emotional or social overload (conflict, misunderstanding, injustice), and sometimes after a shutdown when I wasn’t able to escape a situation I perceived as threatening quickly enough. Comments about my autism — especially unfair ones — can also trigger them. The overload typically builds gradually, layer by layer, but it’s the emotional overflow that ultimately causes the meltdown.

Emotion-driven meltdowns

I experienced my first meltdown triggered by positive emotions in July 2025, after spending three days socialising while in a manic state (with very positive interactions), hosting a birthday party that went really well, and going to my niece’s birthday — and I adore her. After that last event, on my way home, my brain decided the excitement was too much and simply went into a meltdown.

A meltdown triggered by injustice

Later that same year, I found myself in conflict with a friend who refused to acknowledge his wrongdoing and blocked me, preventing me from responding or sharing my side. I eventually learned that he was blaming me for things related to my bipolar disorder and had probably never understood what I’d been living with for 12 years (13 now, as I’m writing this). I was powerless. Stuck facing a situation that was irrational and deeply unfair. And to make it worse, he later sent me a birthday message despite having blocked me, which felt like an additional injustice.

When I read that message, I broke down and started a meltdown. Here are a few lines I wrote in my journal in the moment:

It was my biggest meltdown in years. I was rocking back and forth, hitting the walls and my head, crying, and experiencing an extreme level of inner chaos.
My thoughts were completely out of sync — something felt wrong, disordered, and broken. I needed to fix it.

This meltdown manifested through intense rocking back and forth, pacing in circles around my apartment, all while crying continuously. It felt like my body had an unlimited water source. I ended up screaming into pillows (sometimes I scream without one) and then hitting my head with both hands. When I told my mother about it, she became worried and suggested I needed a punching bag. The problem is that hitting my head probably releases far more internal pressure than a punching bag would — which is why my brain reacts that way. It’s likely still better than punching walls. Either way, it does help reduce the emotional overload when I’m in the middle of complete internal chaos.

In short, meltdown is the autistic crisis I fear the most. It is intense, brutal, violent, and leaves me drained of all energy. Sensory, social, cognitive, and physical. Yes, the crisis also impacts my physical functioning.

Triggering factors

I already mentioned various triggers in the shutdown article, so here I’ll focus mainly on the primary trigger of a meltdown: emotional overload (and more broadly, social overload). Rather than repeat myself, here’s a typical example of a meltdown I experienced.

I had received a comment about the way I speak fast and loudly. I explained that it was one of my autistic traits, and the response I got was: “Well, you must be aware of it.” That comment directly hit my identity and implied I should adapt (which is something I do constantly). I left the situation and went to get a juice in a bar, wearing my noise-canceling headphones.
The stimuli quickly overwhelmed me, and I had to leave the bar and go outside. Wrong timing, wrong chain of risky events = the meltdown hit. Curled up in the street, crying heavily, ignoring other pedestrians, and frantically hitting my head.
I was in emotional distress — feeling frustration, anger, confusion — and trying in my own way to fix the chaos happening inside me.

The National Autistic Society describes the meltdown and its triggers.

What to do about a meltdown

During the meltdown

When witnessing a meltdown, there are several ways to help, which I’ll simply list:

• Reduce sensory load (dim the lights, speak more softly — or avoid speaking if possible — and create distance from crowds)
• Remove dangerous objects
• Never, ever touch the person unless they invite you to
• Do not blame them for anything
• In short: be a calm presence, a source of support.

After the meltdown

After a crisis (shutdown or meltdown), the person is often exhausted — completely drained of all sources of energy. As a reminder, this exhaustion affects all domains: sensory, emotional, cognitive, social, and also physical. The person who has experienced a meltdown needs to recharge and rest, which may take several hours or even several days.

Many autistic people (myself included) often feel guilty after a meltdown (as described in this Reddit post). It is therefore crucial not to blame them for anything. A meltdown is an uncontrollable autistic neurological response designed to protect the brain from an internal danger. Blame will only make things worse and may push the autistic person to withdraw even more, a withdrawal that must be respected if that is what they need.

If possible, a few simple gestures can help: offering presence, physical comfort, a deep-pressure hug. Practical help is also welcome: stimming tools, a weighted blanket, or a “comfort drink” (my equivalent of comfort food, but in beverage form).

Seeking others during the crisis

I remember my closest friend — currently on a friendship break — who witnessed multiple meltdowns (before either of us knew I was autistic) and knew how to offer presence and grounding contact during moments when everything felt like it was collapsing. During a meltdown on my birthday triggered by sensory overload, the absence of that friend (and my social circle in general (because I was at home)) hit me hard. I usually prefer being alone during crises, but that time I desperately needed a comforting presence — even a deep hug — the kind this friend and a few selected others could provide. Instead, I was alone, unable to regulate the overwhelming emotional storm. All I could do was wait — powerless — crying intensely.

My crises during bipolar episodes

Just a few words about meltdowns during bipolar episodes, because they manifest similarly to my shutdowns:

• I rarely experience them during depressive episodes, since I interact much less with the outside world.
• They happen far more frequently during hypomanic episodes. My hypothesis (as there is very little literature on this) is that the intensified emotional flow in hypomania causes a massive, repeated overload, forcing my brain to say “stop.”
• Manic episodes are more complex because they can trigger extreme anger outbursts that, for me, resemble meltdowns (since I stim during mania — even more so when angry). Distinguishing a manic crisis from a meltdown isn’t always obvious. I believe I’ve experienced both at the same time — a meltdown amplified by manic irritability, resulting in an even more explosive crisis.

A study from the Kennedy Krieger Institute explains how bipolar disorder can overlap with the irritability and agitation observed in meltdowns.

A meltdown is therefore not a simple anger outburst, nor a tantrum, but a neurological response to an internal overload experienced as chaos, that puts the person in a state of critical alert and emotional distress. Recognizing a meltdown for what it is — an uncontrollable neurological response — already offers the autistic person some of the understanding they need to survive that chaos.

Originally published in French on: 9 Nov 2025 — translated to English on: 20 Nov 2025.