,

Emotions on Delay: Living with Autistic Emotional Lag

Written by

·

I got some news this week that I knew should trigger an emotional reaction. Logically, it should have hit me like a freight train. But instead? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I may as well have been staring at a shopping list or thinking about putting the bins out. Not a flicker of emotion to work with.

Even though I understand that delayed emotional processing is part of my autism—and something I’ve experienced countless times before—it doesn’t make it any less frustrating.

I Want to Feel Something Now

I want to deal with things in the moment. I want to tell people how I feel, what I need, and how we’re going to move forward. But that’s just not how my brain works. I can’t force feelings to arrive on cue. Sometimes it takes two hours, sometimes two years. I have no control over the timeline.

I’ve learned to tell others, “I’m not able to process this right now—I’ll come back to it when I can.” Some people find this infuriating or think I’m dodging the issue. But most people who know me well understand that it’s not avoidance. It’s just my reality.

Spoiler: The Emotions Don’t Come with Labels

You might think that once the emotions do finally turn up, they’d be neatly packaged and labelled—“Here’s your anger,” “This one’s sadness,” “Don’t forget your fear!” But no, that would be far too convenient.

Two days after the news, I started to feel anxious. Properly anxious. I couldn’t put my finger on why—there was just this sense that something wasn’t right. By day three, I was physically shaking, in a foul mood, and so irritable I could barely stand myself. I felt completely untethered from my own brain.

It took a conversation with my partner to piece it together. He gently reminded me about the news I’d received earlier in the week and suggested this might be my delayed emotional processing kicking in. And he was right.

A Trauma Response I Didn’t See Coming

What I was feeling was a full-blown trauma response—one I hadn’t anticipated at all. I thought I might get a bit upset, maybe have a little cry, perhaps feel angry. But this overwhelming panic and loss of control? That wasn’t on my radar.

Delayed processing is confusing enough, but when you throw in a generous helping of alexithymia—the difficulty with identifying and naming emotions—it becomes a game of emotional Cluedo. I don’t know what the emotion is, where it came from, or what triggered it. I just suddenly can’t function, and my whole body joins in the chaos.

It’s Not Just in My Head—It’s in My Whole Body

When I get overwhelmed like this, it isn’t just “in my head.” My whole body feels it. I get so stressed that my vision goes blurry, I can’t think straight, and everything feels impossible. And because I don’t immediately recognise that I’m having an emotional response, it drags on for longer and hits harder than it should.

This is one area where autism can feel properly disabling for me. Not because I’m “broken” or “less than”—but because the world expects me to respond and react in ways I simply can’t.

But There Is Hope

The one thing that helps? Time and insight. Over the years, I’ve gotten better at noticing the signs, understanding my patterns, and giving myself space to process at my own pace. I’ve built a support system that helps me untangle the mess when I need it. That insight doesn’t fix everything, but it stops me spiralling quite so far.

So next time someone close to you doesn’t seem to react to big news—good or bad—consider that they might be reacting. Just not yet. Give them time. Let them come back when they’re ready.

It doesn’t mean they don’t care.

It just means they need a little more space to understand their response.


Discover more from How Do I Human? And Other Questions I Can't Answer

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

One response to “Emotions on Delay: Living with Autistic Emotional Lag”

  1. The Painful Tide of Autistic Burnout: When Part of You Is Washed Away – How Do I Human? And Other Questions I Can't Answer avatar

    […] It’s more than brain fog. It’s more than fatigue. It’s amnesia. I rediscover old tools weeks later like I’m reading someone else’s notes. I find myself thinking, Wow, this is genius! …only to remember it was mine all along. Combined with the alexithymia it can feel like I am a stranger in my own head. […]

    Like

Leave a comment