Burnout recovery feels impossible

Recently diagnosed after a bout of burnout that traumatised and almost broke me. I'd say I'm "half" recovered, in the sense that I've settled into a subpar state of existence after months of constant overwhelm and shutdowns.

But I feel like I'm stuck repeating the same "mistakes" as the ones that led me to burnout in the first place. Or, more aptly, that despite getting my diagnosis, receiving additional supports at college (and legal entitlement to supports at work), that... nothing has fundamentally changed.

My family knows I got my diagnosis. Do they care? Have they made efforts to ask if there's anything they can do that would make things easier for me? Nope! They don't care!!! Even though I've spent MONTHS venting about how hard the last while of college has been and how horrific I've been feeling. They just act like nothing has changed. And I'm supposed to "put my foot down", but what's the point of wasting energy on this when there's a good chance they will instead interrogate me over "being more autistic all of a sudden"?

Even though I've been so burnt out I could barely function, I still had to go to work. Which I wouldn't have minded, but I couldn't handle it. I'd have multiple meltdowns a week. Then the meltdowns turned to debilitating fear of work. Then that fear of work turned into executive dysfunction and inertia. I've spent the last while of work just... "zoning out" through most of my workday.

I've tried speaking with my line manager, multiple times. Nothing. I've tried going to my university's disability support office for further guidance (it's an internship). Nothing again. My work is "fine" on paper; I achieve everything so basically no one fucking cares enough that I still feel completely terrible and hopeless about working. "Just don't worry, you're overthinking it!!!!" NO I'M NOT I'M FUCKING DROWNING AND NO ONE SEEMS TO UNDERSTAND! NO ONE SEEMS CAPABLE OF EVEN SEEING THE PROBLEM AFTER I'M GOING TO THEM CONSTANTLY!!!

I want nothing more than to just... have enough space in my life for my hobbies. And to not be lonely.

My hobbies.. well, I haven't had sufficient time or energy for hobbies since I was 16, 17, tbh (22 now). I still have hobbies, but I'm afraid to enjoy them as much as I'd like. After having to give up art, my most beloved, most important hobby, a couple of times throughout my life, I'm afraid to get too into it again, because... seeing myself lose the ability to make art as I get more and more burnt out fucking devastates me every time it happens.

I'd love to read more, or play video games, but those are things I haven't touched properly in so long, I don't even know what I enjoy anymore. And thinking about that just makes me cry every time. I've spent my entire adult life with no time or space for ANYTHING I would enjoy, and I've been so afraid to enjoy things... I've lost friends over hyperfixations, I've had family tell me I'm "obsessive"; basically, I have a big fat load of internalised ableism over enjoying things as much as I'd like, and that constant worry of being "crazy" and "obsessive" holds me back, even though I have plenty of time to engage in something.

I'm afraid to get too attached to anything, because in September, I'll be starting full-time university again. And I'll have to find part-time work, again. And I'll be busy 7 days of the week, again. And I'll probably burn out, hard, again.

My university got me access to occupational therapy, and academic supports. But... I worry it's too little, too late.

I feel like trying to be hopeful about my ability to get better isn't even worthwhile. By the time I'll get better, I'll probably be too busy again, and then I'll just burn out even harder. And after a few of these, I probably won't even be able to recover, at all. This last burnout has made my sensory issues, my personality, my bandwidth, worse. And I feel much of it is permanent.

My diagnosis is great. It was necessary. It's allowed me to see that I'm not crazy. And it's given me a better sense of my needs and limits. But... what's the point of knowing my limits and needs if I physically cannot abide by them? What the fuck am I supposed to do, to prevent myself from the nonstop cycle of burnout? How am I meant to advocate for myself when no one is listening or understanding me?