Burnout: A Narrative About the Importance of Self Care

Some mornings, it feels like my socks are made of lead. Slinking down from my bed takes solid minutes of mental preparation, just to look in the mirror at sunken bagged eyes screaming to go back to bed. Nevertheless, I brush my teeth, get dressed, and try to make myself look awake and presentable. I place my small mirror on top of the planner haphazardly left on my desk from the night before, so I get a good look at the to-do list I didn’t finish while patting in my concealer. 

Morning classes bring rushed readings behind blocked webcams, strewn together answers posted in last minute discussion boards, and coffee stains pattering onto the pages of textbooks I’m only half-reading. Notifications on my phone grab my attention like a fly trap and I feel some sort of tension leave my shoulders as I scroll. I smile for the first time today while talking to friends and I don’t feel as tired when watching a video about rescue shelters. Then I glance up to the time and see it’s almost past lunch and the realization falls back onto my shoulders heavier than before.

No matter, I pack my bag and slowly walk to the dining hall, pausing momentarily to let the sun hit my face. I close my eyes and breathe, my chest lifting and dusting off some of the guilt about my un-productive morning. It settles back down with me as I sit at my desk to plan the rest of my day. Opening the planner that taunted me all morning, determination to strike off the little boxes gives me a momentary fire. I get halfway through my first task before I realize how much I have to do, which seems to paralyze me. No matter how much I try, my train of thought can only make it a few hundred feet before being interrupted by another reminder of how much further I have left to go. This stop and go in everything I do continues for the rest of the day, but whatever, I keep trying. Then it’s nine o’clock and I’m standing in the shower, doing everything I can to just to justify staying in for one more song because at least now I’m doing something.

At ten, I finally give in. I settle down into my bed and let myself scroll on my phone. I get up and get the snack I was saving as a reward for myself if I managed to get what I wanted to done, and it tastes just as good with none of the boxes checked off. I let myself sit and relax and put everything I have to do out of my mind. I look in the mirror again, but this time I’m patting in moisturizer and using some of the fancy skincare I’m usually too afraid to waste. The last thing I do before bed is putting on that movie I always wanted to watch, and then, I let myself sleep.

In the morning, my socks feel a little lighter. I get out of bed a little faster and I think my eyes look more like the ones I recognize. This time, when I sit down to plan my morning I remember to note at the top of my list: take time for yourself.