Burnout.
“I feel so tired that everything feels like a monumental task.. Doing the dishes is the equivalent of running a marathon.”
For the past few months I’ve been dealing with burnout.
It’s not the first time it’s happened, but it’s the first time it’s happened where I know what’s happening. Previous instances have led to me losing my job, retreating from any social relationships I’ve had, and basically just ‘existing’ until months later when I finally have the energy to roll up my sleeves and fix the damage I’ve caused.
Burnout, for me, feels like the world is hurting me more than usual – going outside is painfully loud and bright, and I can only exist inside with the blackout curtains pulled shut. Every noise around me is amplified to where it feels like I’m being physically attacked with sound – as a result, I have near-constant headaches and pain through my neck and shoulders from flinching. My partner touching my hair or skin feels like it pulls or bruises; my usual clothing feels like it’s made of sandpaper.
I feel so tired that everything feels like a monumental task. Cooking a meal is out of the question – even pouring a bowl of cereal and the physical act of eating is exhausting, and besides, all my ‘safe foods’ taste wrong and off, so I’d rather not eat at all. Doing the dishes is the equivalent of running a marathon. Showers go out of the window – they’re too exhausting and the water hurts my skin anyway. I can maybe wash once a week, and that’s my activity for the day – so focusing on work becomes so beyond my reach I don’t even know where to start. Requests and emails pile up and I get so overwhelmed I just stop checking at all.
Sometimes I stop talking because it just feels too hard, while my partner tries to help me because he sees something is wrong, he can see me deteriorate, he knows I’m not showering or eating. I speak in single syllables, or I can’t speak at all.
This time, the cause is pretty easy to pinpoint, which is COVID-19. Previous reasons I’ve entered burnout included the death of a friend; stretching myself too thin between university, work and volunteering; my parents’ divorce. It’s a strange and new feeling when something’s going on that’s national, global; something that means everyone is struggling. It makes it easier to minimise what’s happening to you personally, or to feel bad for feeling the way you do – right now, I feel selfish and self-centred. I’m so lucky – I haven’t lost my job and I’ve been able to work from home. No-one I know has gotten sick. Why should I be struggling?
It’s been hard to work out what the catalyst has been for me – it’s been a lot of little things. My routine changed completely, of course – my partner and I actually started socially distancing before recommendations said to do so. He has a compromised immune system, which in basic terms means that something like a common cold can put him in hospital. That’s part of what’s affected me too. I’m so terrified that (being the one who works) I’ll bring illness home, and his sickness or death will be because of me.
Right now I feel like I’m at the bottom of a mountain, and I’m looking up at the peak that I have to climb. I know if I want to turn things around I have to put in the work and the energy, but I’m dead tired from all the mountains I’ve climbed before. I just want to rest.
HEADER IMAGE VIA PEXELS.