it’s tuesday morning. it’s September. it’s been a while since i shared words with you, here. it’s not been a while since i’ve written, i’ve been furiously pen to paper for weeks on end. but i have felt a sacredness to it, a quietness. a “please, wait” from the universe. or myself. whatever you believe.
i woke up today ready to write, ready to continue musing on it all with you.
this is my gentle returning.
and isn’t that what this is all about, anyway?
the last few weeks i’ve been thinking a lot about burnout. about the times i’ve been burnt out to a freaking crisp, and how i’ve recovered from it, and how it’s lingered in my body ever since.
it was 2018 when i went to my boss at a university-college. i told him i was feeling burnt out. fair, of course. i was studying full-time and working full-time and doing an extra job on top of what i’d been employed for and doing things every weekend and having panic attacks in the bathroom so of course i was burnt out. at this point in the story, i’m just impressed my disassociated lil body could tell i was burnt out, ya know?
he told me he’d know if i was burnt out.
he told me i wasn’t.
he told me to push through.
he told me once if i was ever feeling tired or burnt out to come to him and i did and he told me i was wrong. to ignore my body. to ignore my struggle. to push through.
christians always creating and perpetuating a distrust in the body, right?
in 2019 i spent most of the year working casually and waking up to journal and giving myself room. i thought i’d given myself enough room to recover from burnout. it turns out you need to be more proactive, you can’t just not work as much and think that’ll solve the problem.
in 2022 i was in my third year working for another university space. i stared at the computer screen, listless. i tapped my keyboard. i sent my emails. i ignored a lot more than i replied to. i tried to do the most important things, first. the students. the people. they mattered. the reports and the emails could wait. in another state, there were five people doing the five different roles i was responsible for. here, it was just me. i’d go to a park in the city and quietly ugly cry. i was getting depressed. my anxiety meds were upped. i would come home and lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. my joy was being stripped from me.
and all the while, the question:
other people can do this.
why can’t i?
other people can juggle this.
what the fuck is wrong with me?
but maybe we weren’t meant to juggle like this?
i got a surge of energy when i realised i was burnt out, again. or still, maybe. enough energy to start working on my photography business that i’d played with off-and-on for the last five years. it tends to be the way, the burst of energy, the excitement at the potential of something new.
and now it’s 2023. nearing the end. 10 months have passed since i left my last job, found another one, decided to keep working on my photography business, kept writing my memoir, and tried to write this newsletter frequently. i’m doing a lot of things bb, as my partner keeps reminding me.
i’m doing a lot of things, but i don’t feel the same pull of burnout anymore. i still feel it in my body, when i get too tired or i work too much. but it doesn’t catch hold. it doesn’t live here, anymore.
because i’ve learned to listen.
we aren’t meant to juggle everything all at once. a constantly moving river of things that we are trying to hold and keep from spilling over. no. it’s okay to put things down for a little while. i’m learning this. i’m learning to write in a notebook and not a computer if it makes me feel less tired. to reply to emails from photography clients and not panic about the rest of them. to make coffees and hangout with my people. to spend time with my lover watching movies on the couch. to focus on one thing at a time. prioritise the moment we are in. to stay in that moment. to be present. to breathe deeply.
i can feel my body start to rise up, now. start to react when there’s too much on. when there’s a to-do list in front of her that scrolls too far. i know how to listen to her — i know how to work with her. and i’m still learning. but thank god i don’t have to ask someone else’s permission anymore. but that’s a post for next week.
❤️
I can relate to this so much - I also worked in a university, and also had a totally unrealistic workload, and towards the end of 2018 my physical health completely collapsed. It took me 3-4 months to get past the worst of it, and I've lived with chronic health issues ever since. In April 2020 when I quit the next job, which was meant to be a fresh start - ironically it was a job in healthcare but even more toxic and damaging than the previous one! Finally in summer 2020 after many tentative steps I got a feeling of what creative direction I wanted to head in and have been slowly working on pattern design & textile art every since, and I'm still working through unlearning all the habits I've built over the years that push me into burnout... it's such a big thing!!! I can also relate to the easing yourself back into the Substack thing - I took an intentional break and planned to come back last week, but it's not quite worked out that way and I'm giving myself permission to not make it a priority until next week because I can't juggle it all!
GIRL I also burned out back in late 2020 and I’m finally returning to myself after such an epic crash. But it’s a beautiful thing to listen to the body, to go all in when you have the energy, to consistently come back to your art, to do a little bit when it feels like too much, and even to take a break when needed. Consistency is not linear and I love to read your thoughts when you share <3