Before landing on “Everything Must Go” as the title of her first stand-up special, Hannah Einbinder considered a moniker more closely connected to her atypical outlook: “The Neurodivergent Hour.”

Diagnosed with ADHD as a child, the 28-year-old “Hacks” star has long wielded comedy as a tool for combating what, until recently, she would describe as “intense self-loathing.” While Einbinder has happily progressed in the self-esteem department, her special — filmed last month at El Rey Theatre in Los Angeles ahead of a mid-June release on Max — was forged over many years of stepping onstage to escape her swirling doubts and insecurities.

The climate-conscious comic calls the hour a “micro- and macro-examination of life on Earth.” Personal anecdotes blend with ecological observations about the state of the planet. Some carefully fashioned bits utilize mixed media and music. Einbinder also dons a variety of characters and affectations.

“I mean for the hour to capture the attention of someone with a brain like mine,” Einbinder says during a recent video chat from Los Angeles. “It started as relief for myself, from myself. Now, I really do want, for an hour, to give people a break from what lies beyond their doors.”

Einbinder’s special will arrive on the heels of another long-anticipated release: Season 3 of “Hacks,” which premiered May 2 on Max after a two-year hiatus. Einbinder plays Ava Daniels, an alt-comedy writer hired to punch up material for fading stand-up giant Deborah Vance, in the acclaimed series, which already has earned co-star Jean Smart a pair of Emmys and Einbinder two nominations.

A stand-up first and foremost, Einbinder had barely acted before booking “Hacks.” But when Smart read opposite her for a pandemic-era chemistry test in a darkened soundstage, the actors separated by plexiglass, their bickering comedy proved deliciously combustible. Over the first two seasons, the actors mined no shortage of laughs and camaraderie from the characters’ cavernous generation gap. As Ava has matured, so has Einbinder’s on-screen craft.

“It’s wonderful to watch her gain such enormous confidence as an actress,” Smart says. “I mean, it’s kind of astonishing. She’s a complete natural. She is absolutely, organically in the moment.”

Einbinder’s uncanny instincts shouldn’t surprise: Her mother is original “Saturday Night Live” cast member Laraine Newman, and her father, Chad Einbinder, is a commercial director and former comic. When Einbinder made her stand-up debut as a student at Southern California’s Chapman University, opening for Nicole Byer, she poured a glass of whiskey for a dash of liquid courage but never took a sip.

“I just had it in my hand, and I walked out onstage and every ounce of nerves that I had totally dissolved,” Einbinder says. “I felt this feeling that I had never felt before but, of course, would go on to feel all the time performing, which is that I was out of my own head. That was something I so desperately needed at the time.”

Raised as a third-generation Angelino in a liberal Jewish household, Einbinder wholeheartedly embraces her L.A. roots. (“I really am the person who dreads ever getting on a plane,” she says, “because not inhaling a certain amount of smog disrupts my equilibrium.”) But she does recall enduring a fraught upbringing, to the extent that she can remember it at all.

As a child, Einbinder was placed in classes for students labeled “learning impaired.” Prescribed Adderall, she smoked heavy amounts of marijuana as a teen to tamp down the stimulant’s effect and slid into a years-long stupor. It wasn’t until Einbinder cut off her Adderall regimen, while trying out for Chapman’s improv team, that the fog lifted.

“It was like night and day,” Einbinder says. “I snapped back in.”

Many viewers’ introduction to Einbinder was a March 2020 set on “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert,” in which she took on a femme fatale persona, shared that Newman got pregnant with her at age 42 and, pausing for dramatic effect, explained: “Before that age she was … busy.” Einbinder has since made conceptual comedy — offbeat, stoner-adjacent and undefinably uproarious — a staple of her sets.

In naming her special “Everything Must Go,” Einbinder means it for an hour of material she has no plans to repeat. When it came time to film the special — captured over two performances on April 20 — the logistical demands of accommodating the cameras reduced the theater’s capacity from more than 700 to around 250, largely morphing the crowd into an intimate collection of her closest confidants. Einbinder’s friend Sandy Honig directed the special, and cinematographer Adam Bricker was among the many “Hacks” cohorts in the crew. As Einbinder both celebrated the hour and recognized she would never perform it again, she came to describe the occasion as “a wedding and a funeral all in one.”

“The command of the stage and the audience was just incredible,” says Smart, who attended both performances. “But, I mean, that’s her home. I told her, ‘You have completely found your voice. It’s in your bones.’ There is something about her that is absolutely unlike anybody else.”