After one of the most challenging years of my life, I think I finally realise what burnout is. The saddest thing of all is that now I am on the right side of my experience, I watch helplessly as others around me experience the same thing but with different outcomes.
My humble story goes a little like this: Dissatisfied with my work, after a long couple of years in lockdown where I learned, trained and felt free (creatively at least) I was thrust back into the office full time and I needed something from the time I gained for me to remain. I started writing a blog, the idea was for it to keep me in the habit of writing every week so I could slip in and out of creative thinking more freely, while I was trying to finish a manuscript. (Draft one complete, yet still unfinished.) It was an idea I had read about and it was working. I had been occupied during the remaining months of lock down and I was regularly creatively writing as well as blogging about topics that interested me. I thought I had figured it out - working a busy full time job, writing creatively, blogging as well as taking photos and keeping fit though yoga, it all seemed pretty balanced. Writing has always been an outlet so it has never felt like a chore or a job, I’d been journaling for decades. It frees my mind so it’s in some ways I thought of it as rest. Although, in hindsight, I had never worked with deadlines or had to produce regularly, and I was holding myself to a standard, relaxed in some circles but it was more than what I was doing before so it must have played part in my burnout.
Loosing control and not noticing
Something altered when I was writing and the name of the blog felt really wrong, I felt exposed and vulnerable and it was limiting. I am associated with a company. I felt I had to be mindful of their brand. I was also working alone and I wanted to work with others, I wanted to build something, something I could be proud of. For a moment in time I couldn’t rationalise what I was doing, the name being my own it felt wrong somehow. It was likely to do with things that were going on in my job at the time, waiting patiently for a role I thought I should have got many years prior, questioning everything about my place in the world. What was it all for it not to achieve my goals, what would I do if I didn’t get what I felt I deserved. Why was I waiting for others anyway? I wanted to change the name of the blog as its the only thing I had 100% control over. I was in the process of scribbling logos and names on a bit of paper and my world got flipped upside down. You might notice that there are some gaps in the content, I didn't write for a year. I couldn't, I have since filled in some blanks. However this is not a poor me story, it's an - I wish I’d seen the signs earlier, story. I have re-read some of the thing I was working on at the time and all the signs are there.
It was a normal day, I had some meetings, a training course in Mental Health (the irony) and then all of a sudden I lost the ability to communicate. I knew the words were there, I just couldn't find them. It was as if the connections between thought and speech had been severed. It’s was a long road back and to give away the ending I am ok, there was no permanent damage. I landed in hospital and what was first considered a stroke quickly got downgraded to a neurological anomaly.
Admitting that Stress can cause physical responses
I couldn’t admit that this experience was caused by stress, I wouldn’t, it made me feel weak and I was worried it would make my colleagues think that I couldn’t cope. I had been working so hard on a promotions and I couldn't let this alter anyones perception of me. That sentence, although it is the truth, is so hard to write. I put other people's perception of me over my admitting that I needed a break, an adjustment, a change.
I took only two weeks off work and then did several weeks of part time hours, much to the disgust of my husband who at the time wanted to wrap me in cotton wool and never let me out the house again. I loathed every minute of being cared for, it was so unfamiliar. I love my husband for his care and his patience but learning how to be looked after is not something I was good at. I was desperate to prove everyone wrong - it wasnt stress and that I was ok. (Myself more than anyone.) I waited three months for a neurologist appointment, silently wondering if I had a brain tumor, or something degenerative that would re-occur. I thought my life had altered for the worst forever. Holding it together pretending I was ok, rejecting help and forging on was my survival strategy.
The year was long, the medical appointments were frequent but when I did accept the help I was offered I started to see it all differently. Stress is a normal part of any day, the feeling you have when you're running late, or feeling pressure for a deadline. Stress shouldnt push you to medication, hospitals or specialists. If it does, there is something that needs changing in your life. I’m perfectly comfortable accepting it and writing it now, however it took me about 9 months of treatment to even admit it was related.
My medical emergency was a severe migraine that presented as a stroke, it took me weeks to find all my words and months before I could say I was the old me. (Maybe somedays I’m still not) There is no lasting damage but the experience I had was life changing. It was without a doubt the most terrifying day of my life. I lost the ability to speak for over 15 hours and my cognition was limited for several weeks. I couldn’t write an email, although I chose to hide that inability for fear of judgment.
Gratitude and intent listening to our body
Even though I am back to my old self, there is a residue - I am far more cautious and everyone who loves me or witnessed that day is a little jumpy when I miss a word. There is a cold hard moral to my story, which is why I share something so personal. My survival strategy was simple - I kept pushing, striving, finding the next challenge, I never stopped going for that promotion, in fact it made me hungrier like I had something additional to prove. (I’m not sure to who) I lied to myself and others around me that I was ok, when I wasn’t. I was ashamed of being someone who needed others and even more that their help was often declined.
I had all the right things in my life, yoga, journaling, writing for joy, a challenging and rewarding job, a happy home life, a good diet, a healthy lifestyle. And still stress caught up with me. It didn’t matter what I had, it's what I didn't that counted on that day and everyday since. I didn't understand me, and how to be ok with the messy imperfect version of myself. I have been so busy for over 30+ years trying to be perfect I literally ran out of steam and froze.
Ever since this day I have lived with headaches, some bad ones but mostly they’re my body giving me little warning signs that I need a moment, an aspirin or a break. It wouldn't have mattered what job I had, who I was employed by, it was how I had learnt to deal with stress and pressure that was the issue. It wasn't serious in the end but it could have been. Now I live knowing I didn't hear her once and I can never not hear her again. Me and my body, we have an understanding now and I’m grateful for it.
Learning the lessons the body is teaching us
When something truly life changing happens I try to see the lesson, the reason why and then I choose how I want it to define me, how much power I give it. My migraines are serious and they might well land me in the hospital again but they have also made me listen intently to my body, to seek help, to find healthy boundaries, to live a little lighter, to pay more attention to the importance of rest and above all to be grateful for the love I have for life.This love for life is why the blog is back on and it’s going to be better than I ever imagined, through my difficult year it became crystal clear, this blog needs to be for women, a place where we can be ourselves without the shame or judgment we think we’ll get if we say things out loud. A place to feel familiar to be inspired to live a little slower, more wholesome and openhearted.
Burn out for me was a jolt, a physical reaction that stopped me in my tracks, yours might be fatigue, a loathing for things, a lack of enthusiasm, a distaste for things you used to love, anxiety, getting sick all the time, difficulty sleeping etc. There are subtle ways our bodies will communicate to us. They’ll always try to tell us what we need. It’s up to you to listen. Your body is the greatest and only vessel you’ll ever have - why not give her a voice.
