I’m a fairly busy person and I like it that way, I think. Of course, no one will own up to it—probably out of courtesy to not hurt my feelings—but I am one of the most difficult people to make any sort of plans with. With a schedule loaded with extracurriculars, events and quite the daunting course load, how could I not be? I’m just that busy. I’m not sure how I pulled it off in high school, but now in college I couldn’t even fathom doing a third of what I did when I was 17. Yet, throughout most of my first year, I found myself chomping at the bit to be as involved as possible. Since that’s what I thought I liked, being busy.
I just couldn’t help myself, as star-studded as it looks to be overly involved on paper, such behavior has always plopped me into the same miserable cycle: commit, work hard, burnout harder. I’d ask myself every day, why torture myself? For about the last year and a half, I was obliviously drowning in the most debilitating burnout ever, which in hindsight was fairly obvious, I just couldn’t see it. I wasn’t entirely sure why I was so blind to something so clearly agonizing, but I think I’ve got an idea: burnout denial.
Synonymous with being a dream killer, life dimmer, and purgatory placer, burnout is a sworn enemy, and we’ve all dealt with it. It’s the state of feeling like you’ve exerted yourself so much, just to be met with little reward and spreading yourself too thin. Burnout is straight-up defeating.
I keep myself busy because it’s a stimulant from having to worry about the harder stressors in life. I would rather join a stand-up comedy group (thank you to my friends who would never let this happen) or a basket weaving club, before having to address things like the scary email I have queued or other more important things, like my mental health. Remember that short-lived trend online about the “immortal snail,” where an immortal snail is always following you, creeping closer and closer bringing your uncertain demise along with it? Burnout is my immortal snail. Burnout has always crept up on me, I knew of its possibility, but could never face its reality. I could never accept that my burnout was real because if I did, I might as well just yell out to the world, “I’m not capable, I can’t do this!” — which couldn’t be further from the truth.
The longer I spent in burnout denial, the worse my burnout manifested. The mental health toll was near irreparable, I never once had a kind thing to say to myself. I was tense and paranoid 24/7, boiling over with anxiety while simultaneously smothered in waves of overwhelm and depression. My burnout didn’t stop there, your mind dictates your body, and the physical toll was equally as bad, I felt weak, and I looked it: eyes sunken and sleepy (disguised with supple amounts of concealer and color corrector), my immune system defeated leaving me ill every three weeks, my muscles weak and my body fatigued. Life felt cyclic and stagnant; I had no desire to partake in my hobbies or passions, each tainted with the mark of burnout, I was zombified, I was off the rails.
So, what do you even do when you’re such a mess and don’t even know it? While I’d love to tell you that I had a moment of self-realization and suddenly all peace was restored, my pants would burst into flames (liar, liar!). The truth is I had a mental breakdown. Truthfully, one for the books, and oh my, was it eye-opening. I realized that having a limit doesn’t make me a loser, in fact, it was quite the contrary. Step one to fixing any problem is admitting it’s a problem in the first place—which is easier said than done.
I started small and admitted I had a problem; having a limit for myself is a mode of self respect, not weakness. Next, I made a list. I categorized everything in my life into three categories: things that fill me, things that build me, and things that don’t serve me. From there I took a three-week reset, three whole weeks of doing things that only I wanted to do. I uprooted my old habits and day-to-day schedule and started from scratch. Progress was slow, but it became more evident with each passing day. I even found myself finding love again with abandoned hobbies like kickboxing.
I can’t say I won’t ever get burnt out again because I know I will. Remember that having a limit doesn’t make anyone weak, it makes us human. While my burnout experience might look different from yours, it doesn’t mean that what you might be experiencing isn’t burnout. Don’t let burnout be your biggest burden, you’re stronger than that, I know you are.