Still Finding My Way Back…
“Stress impacts our body and mind, but burnout is a malaise of the soul. This is when we become despondent, angry, hopeless, and see no point to what we’re doing.” – Kristen Lamb in her recent blog post,
5 Reasons to Invest in Rest: Think Vacations are Pricey? Try Burnout
This, folks, is exactly where I’ve been for the past eleven months. Kristen sums it up perfectly in the above quote and her entire blog post about burnout is spot on. I’ve mentioned my own struggles with burnout and depression on social media and on this blog, and if it became monotonous for you, I apologize. I’m trying to avoid camping on these themes, but it has been a struggle. I’m still writing, still working, still taking care of my obligations just like you’re doing… but most of the time, I’m little more than an automaton, going about the motions of life without actually LIVING.
But hey, at least I’m not waking up with outright anxiety attacks or panic attacks as I did in years past. Instead, I’m confronted with that “malaise of the soul” every morning, as Kristen mentions, and all of its accompanying bleak perceptions of life.
The needle on my emotional meter has been limited to a range covering melancholy, dread, anger, disappointment, and apathy, and I pass off power naps as ersatz replacements for actual rest. I’ve become increasingly reclusive—something I’m trying to combat—and some activities that once brought excitement and joy no longer do and have not for the past year.
And don’t think I haven’t been on a quest to figure out how the hell to climb out of this dismal state of mind. No one can persist in this manner for too long and honestly call it a life. I’ve long since become inured to bouts of depression that last a day, a week, even a month or two. Depression has been a constant companion since I was a kid, always under the surface and occasionally pulling me under with it, but I always managed to eventually slip from its grasp, even if only temporarily. This year-long darkness in my head is a new and unexpected experience and old techniques for working through it have mostly failed me.
This is why I look forward to a week at the beach next month and a week-long Mindful Writers Retreat in October. These are short term reprieves that I hope will give me a boost. For the long term, I know I need to make specific changes (and I know at least some of them) in order to get back to actually LIVING.
This, folks, is exactly where I’ve been for the past eleven months. Kristen sums it up perfectly in the above quote and her entire blog post about burnout is spot on. I’ve mentioned my own struggles with burnout and depression on social media and on this blog, and if it became monotonous for you, I apologize. I’m trying to avoid camping on these themes, but it has been a struggle. I’m still writing, still working, still taking care of my obligations just like you’re doing… but most of the time, I’m little more than an automaton, going about the motions of life without actually LIVING.
But hey, at least I’m not waking up with outright anxiety attacks or panic attacks as I did in years past. Instead, I’m confronted with that “malaise of the soul” every morning, as Kristen mentions, and all of its accompanying bleak perceptions of life.
The needle on my emotional meter has been limited to a range covering melancholy, dread, anger, disappointment, and apathy, and I pass off power naps as ersatz replacements for actual rest. I’ve become increasingly reclusive—something I’m trying to combat—and some activities that once brought excitement and joy no longer do and have not for the past year.
And don’t think I haven’t been on a quest to figure out how the hell to climb out of this dismal state of mind. No one can persist in this manner for too long and honestly call it a life. I’ve long since become inured to bouts of depression that last a day, a week, even a month or two. Depression has been a constant companion since I was a kid, always under the surface and occasionally pulling me under with it, but I always managed to eventually slip from its grasp, even if only temporarily. This year-long darkness in my head is a new and unexpected experience and old techniques for working through it have mostly failed me.
This is why I look forward to a week at the beach next month and a week-long Mindful Writers Retreat in October. These are short term reprieves that I hope will give me a boost. For the long term, I know I need to make specific changes (and I know at least some of them) in order to get back to actually LIVING.
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