With Elli

We all carry stress. Some days it’s light, other days it feels like a heavy stone on our chest. But what happens when the weight never lifts? When extreme stress stays with us for too long, it begins to shape our body, our mind, and even the way we see ourselves. I’ve been reflecting on these questions — about stress, trauma, ADHD, Autism, AuDHD, and burnout — and I want to share what I’ve learned. My hope is that this can guide anyone who wants to understand themselves or someone they care about a little better. What happens if we don’t deal with extreme stress? Stress isn’t just a feeling — it’s something the body experiences physically, emotionally, and mentally. Over time, if it’s not addressed, it can lead to: Physical effects : Chronic headaches, high blood pressure, heart issues, digestive problems, weakened immune system, and disturbed sleep. Stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline flood the body, affecting organs and tissues. Mental effects : Anxiety, depression, irr...

For many autistic people, social interaction feels like a performance — not because they’re dishonest, but because they’ve had to learn to "mask" their natural ways of being in order to be accepted, understood, or safe. This is called masking , and it can happen all day, every day. What Is Masking? Masking involves things like: Photo by Jens Riesenberg on Unsplash Imitating facial expressions and tone of voice Forcing eye contact Hiding stimming (like fidgeting or self-soothing movements) Suppressing emotions or overwhelm Studying and rehearsing what to say before saying it Pretending to be “okay” — even when they’re not Many autistic people start masking from a young age, often unconsciously. Over time, it becomes second nature — but it’s not natural. It’s learned. And it’s exhausting . It’s Not Just Strangers — It’s Everyone Masking doesn’t only happen in formal situations or with strangers. It often shows up in daily conversations with: Pho...

Have you ever left a social gathering feeling completely drained, Photo by Karsten Winegeart on Unsplash even though you didn’t “do” much? Or felt like you had to put on a mask to get through a conversation? You’re not alone — and for many autistic people, this experience is not occasional , it’s a daily reality. In this post, I want to share what I’ve learned through personal research, conversations with friends on the spectrum, and my own questions as a neurotypical person trying to better understand what it's like to live with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). I’ll also reflect on how we can create more inclusive, compassionate spaces for everyone — diagnosed or not. 🌪 Why Does Socializing Feel So Overwhelming? 1. The Environment Is Sensory-Heavy Social environments are often full of loud sounds, bright or flickering lights, background noise, strong smells, and physical proximity. For many autistic people, these stimuli don’t fade into the background — they’re loud and co...

Photo by Peter Burdon on Unsplash A Neurotypical Perspective from a Curious and Caring Friend I’m not autistic. But I’ve been deeply drawn to understanding autism because people I care about live with it every day. Over time, my curiosity grew into a sense of responsibility. I wanted to understand—not just to “support,” but to truly see and respect their way of being. So I started asking questions. 🔍 The Questions That Guided Me These were the questions that first opened the door for me: What is autism, exactly? What does “spectrum” really mean? Why do autistic people feel so tired or overwhelmed in social situations? What is masking? How do autistic people experience emotions, touch, or eye contact? How can I support someone going through autistic burnout? How do communication and sensory processing differ? Why is routine or predictability so important? What’s the difference between autism and ADHD? What are stims, and why are they important? How d...

Photo by Mockaroon on Unsplash ADHD (Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder) is something I’ve learned about through people close to me—friends, family, students, and members of the neurodivergent communities I’ve met through my volunteer work. I do not have ADHD myself, but I've always felt a deep need to understand it—beyond the stereotypes and surface-level labels. This blog post is a reflection of that journey: the questions I’ve asked, the moments that sparked curiosity, the emotional weight of watching someone struggle, and the many ways ADHD reveals its complexity in real life. It’s about what it means to be a neurotypical person trying to support and connect with people who experience the world in different ways. 💭 First Encounters with Neurodiversity My first direct experience with neurodivergent individuals came through volunteering in: 🏫 A special education school in Evosmos, Thessaloniki 👁️‍🗨️ The School for the Blind in Thessaloniki 🎭 A neurodivergent a...

Photo by Peter Burdon on Unsplash I didn’t meet neurodiversity in a textbook or through a diagnosis. I met it through people. Through shared moments. Through experiences that quietly, powerfully changed me. I was young and curious. I thought I was there to offer help — to support with tasks, be patient, play games. But instead, I was invited into a different rhythm of the world. My first real encounter came as a young volunteer in Thessaloniki, at a special education school in Evosmos. Each child there taught me something no classroom ever had.  Later, I volunteered at the School for the Blind, also in Thessaloniki. It was there I truly realized: sensory experience is a universe of its own — and we each live in slightly different galaxies. I learned to slow down. To listen with more than my ears. To feel what didn’t need to be said. Then came Endynamei — a neurodivergent team of dancers, artists, and actors. Their performances weren’t just art. They were language. Expression in...

Some days, even when we try our best, it feels oddly difficult to say: “I’m proud of myself. I deserve rest. I deserve a treat.” If you’ve ever found yourself struggling to reward yourself — or even just sit with your own effort — you’re not alone. For many of us, especially those who are deeply empathetic, neurodivergent, or grew up without consistent emotional support, self-kindness doesn’t come naturally. But why?