Let’s Be Honest About: Burnout

Tired. Sluggish. No energy. No motivation.
No desire to do, say, or be anything.
Moody. Short-tempered and angry for seemingly no reason.
Or feeling so down and depressed that that one thing that always makes you smile doesn’t penetrate, and even the warmth of your covers and the softness of your pillows seems to bring no comfort.

It may be a little different for you, but that’s what burnout feels like to me.
Being so purely and utterly exhausted that even breathing feels like too much work.
Waking up in the mornings sometimes makes me mad because I don’t want to have to do, go, take care of, handle, or even be. It’s too much.

Simple tasks, like brushing my teeth or getting dressed for the day, feel like trying to lift a thousand-pound weight with my little finger.
I watch the clock all throughout the day anxiously awaiting evening time so I can have a reasonable excuse to get back in bed.
Forcing myself to stand up in the shower to bathe, and even the hot water doesn’t seem to soothe the unexplainable dead weight I feel in my body.

My emotions make no sense.
I’m surrounded by things and people that I love and bring me joy and laughter,
but the smiles and chuckles I give don’t feel genuine.
I’m angry one minute at absolutely nothing,
and so sad the next that I want to sob and I have no idea why.

And the tasks.
The. TASKS.
Cooking, cleaning, working.
Taking care of my amazing little boy.
Planning, scheduling, and attending appointments.
Just thinking about having to do them makes me want to scream until my throat is raw.
Except I don’t have the energy to scream.

Because I don’t have the energy to do anything.

Getting mad at myself because it doesn’t make sense to feel this way.
“Nothing bad has even happened – You’re not even dealing with that much right now – Quit getting mopey about being an adult – It’s not like someone died”…
“What gives you the right to feel like this? What have you really done lately?”

And then, just when I don’t think the weight can get any worse…

Enter. The. Damn Guilt.

Feeling like the world’s worst wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, therapist.
Because I don’t want to be any of those things or fill any of those roles.
I don’t want to be anything to anyone when it hits.
I want to be left totally and completely alone.
And what kind of person resents the roles that they volunteered to hold?
What kind of wife and mother gets upset at their husband and child, just because they’re tired?

That’s what burnout feels like to me.

Complete and utter exhaustion. An insane rollercoaster of unpleasant emotions.
Guilt. Shame. And hopelessness.

I can’t tell you the first time I recognized experiencing burnout for myself.
Just using logic, it was probably in college when stress is as much to be expected as paying a ridiculous price for textbooks.
But how I feel when I reach that point seems to get worse as I get older.
Which is to be expected because life gets harder as you grow and change.
And in a lot of ways, it gets better.

But the burnout? It gets worse.

Funnily enough, I’m actually coming out of my most recent episode of burnout as I write this.
Which is probably why it’s my first post.
Even funnier, though…
I’ve never admitted any of this to anyone in this much detail before.

When I ask myself why, the first response I get from myself is one rooted in shame.
I feel ashamed for being burned out.
Because I should be able to handle life, take care of responsibilities,
fulfill my role duties and keep it pushing without complaining, right?

Only, I’ve realized over the last couple years that burnout is part of life.
Because life is HARD.
We go, do, handle, fix, take care of, perform, and exist every. single. day.
And after a while, without the proper self-care, occasional vacation, or just days where we give ourselves a damn rest, we break.

We waste no time running to our phone chargers when we see the battery bar going red, but we don’t recognize or pay attention when our own batteries are dying.

I’ve learned that energy and motivation is not infinite.
Humans do not have an endless supply of stamina or power.
Every single day, we earn the right to be tired, to be exhausted.
And even though our minds and society tells us otherwise,
we are not shameful or flawed because we burn out.

I’m not going to be arrogant enough to assume that burnout feels the exact same way for you as it does for me.
But I am willing to put money on (and I don’t do this lightly, I like money too much) you having experienced burnout in some form or another that’s unique to you.

And in case no one else has ever said this to you…
It doesn’t feel okay, and it’s not a good idea to stay there,
but I see you. I feel you. I understand. Your feelings are valid.
You have no reason to feel ashamed. You are not flawed, worthless or broken.
You’re a human who’s earned the right to be exhausted.

And I hope you take the time you need to take care of yourself.