Burnout is not a blip, a bout, or a temporary spell of unwellness, as I used to vaguely assume.
Burnout is more like an eruption of a serious medical condition that requires you to significantly change your lifestyle going forward.
I’ve been in a deeper pit of burnout this summer/year than I’m used to—and I think it’s because I’ve been paying a lot more attention to my feelings and needs than I used to. (A lot of them have to do with understanding and “unmasking” my autism. For example, see my post “Speaking Less, Sparkling More” and “On Taking My Own Needs Seriously.”)
It’s (not) funny: last summer I posted about my grand intentions to practice “My Feelings Matter” in the midst of the extra parenting challenges of summertime. Hah! I didn’t yet know that practicing “my feelings matter,” for someone like me, is a pretty straight line to burnout.
That doesn’t mean I should just go back to masking, over-coping, overcompensating, overexerting myself, and thus living in a chronic state of low-grade burnout. I want to raise emotionally healthy kids who have an emotionally healthy and truly present mom!
No, I think the solution is to let the burnout happen, as far as I can. Let it burn down my structures of over-coping so that I can build new, more sustainable structures for my life instead.
I’m still very much in the midst of that process. I can’t just utterly stop functioning, so I’m letting small fires blaze up here and there instead. Often they take the form of my being less interpersonally responsive, because my need for inner attending is so great.
I talk much less; I pause much more before responding; and when my beloved husband and kids are being so freaking loud that I’m about to lose my mind, I just drop what I’m doing and go outside.
Here was one brilliant act recently, born out of desperation: I dragged a bunch of boxes out of a closet, put down a blanket and pillow in it, and declared it my official hidey-hole for solitude and writing. Ahhhhhhh. It’s amazing! (But next I need to rig up some kind of interior lock for it, because my four year old keeps busting in.)
Wish me luck as I keep finding my way through the blessed fires of burnout.
River Roundup
Section posts since last time
🪷Serenity Splashes
a poem on feeling burnt out & down-and-out
I'm down like a candle burning too long. My mind feels melty; my will's not strong enough to stand up for what I need. I'm a puddly hot mess. Let me be. Let me be.
Yes, they gave you life, but they treated you with scorn while pretending it was love. And you--confused, forlorn-- tried hard to play along and dodge their blasts of blame. Now it's your turn to win-- by forfeiting their game.
a poem for a loved one who’s had a hard path
Little indigo bunting, with your blues deep and bright, you've journeyed hard and far. Your song has survived rough storms and dark nights. Carry on, like the hero you are.
May I be my own witness-- notice more, govern less-- not censoring how I feel, but holding me through what's real.
I’m already on a rugged climb: Healing Mountain’s steep and rough. But sometimes I’m too tired to try. These days, the going’s extra tough. Each gust of wind just knocks me down, where prickly self-doubt shrubs are thick. But for today, somehow I’ve found compassion as a walking stick.
reflections on codependency & rejection sensitivity
Your thin skin, so rejection-prone, is not actually my own emergency to manage. I cannot heal your damage, and I only harm me by trying to be your sunscreen.