Before we dive in, I want to make it clear that I am posting this with a sound mind and that I am doing well. This a recount of what I learned when I let myself get burned out one time, and I want to share it with you.
Mainly, I want to call attention to the fact that when we don’t take care of ourselves, and we go-go-go, we run the risk of running into trouble. I ran that risk, half-knowingly, and ran into some trouble.
But I am here now with a happy and full heart. And am able to share that feelings do fade, low moments pass, and that we are human beings. Not human doings.
One quick disclaimer. Mental Illness is real. I’ve seen it in my own life and in many others’ lives. But mental illness isn’t a badge of honor to be worn. It’s something to be taken seriously.
With that said, what I share here is not mental illness. I do not have a mental illness. Yes, I struggled in the past, but this is a recount of a time I got burned out and the wonderful things I’ve learned since picking myself back up.
So, let’s begin.
The Onset
I knew something was off. I was over-analyzing situations, finding it difficult to articulate my thoughts properly, and crying… very easily.
But I was still continuing on, because that’s what a Type A-squared (as my mom calls me) person does, right? No rest for the weary, because there are things to be done and to be done well! Plus, I was sleeping 5-6 hours at night… isn’t that enough?
What I’d failed to notice was I was living a lifestyle of go-go-go for well over a month. I was traveling and working a lot. But I continued on, reminding myself, “I got this,” as I took on more projects, more work, and made down time less important.
Because of the busy-ness, I was falling off my usual routine of quiet Sundays spent meal prepping after Mass. I wasn’t eating as healthy as I usually do. I was consuming more alcohol than normal (traveling and holidays). Most importantly, I was filling days with more activities and more work and more writing and more projects and more outings and more friends and less time to sit. Less time to be quiet. Less time to just be. More. More. More.
But I continued on.
Because, as always, “I got this.” And there are things to be done, and to be done well!
When I Knew It Was Coming On
Up until this point, I thought I was handling everything really well. All of the balls I was juggling hadn’t dropped, so that was a good sign, right? And I was happy. Really happy.
It wasn’t until I went to a Starbucks after work one evening to finish up an article and work on some other things that I realized I was already halfway down the wrong path. Unable to focus, I bounced between writing an article, a blog post, a book (don’t ask), and a media kit. My eyes wouldn’t stay open and I felt the onset of tears starting (for what? Not sure.), so I left and passed out on the couch 30 minutes later.
“I’m just tired,” I told myself, as I tried to shake off the anxiety that was forming and I moved my sluggish body to my bed to sleep the night away. But as the minutes ticked, the anxiety revved up, so I took my anxiety medicine (for rare occasions)… for the third time that week (Medicine… a sign that something was off).
The night passed and the morning came. I pulled myself together enough to get through my day as best as I could. But as the day waned on, tears continued to pool in my eyes. I wiped them away, fearing someone would see. (Lots of tears… a sign)
“I got this,” I reminded myself. And continued on. There were things to be done and to be done well!
I was eager to close out the day, and as I was driving, I thought through all of the people I loved, sending up prayers for them. But at the same time, fought off thoughts that told me I had no friends. That I’m actually, in fact, all alone. That no one understands me. That everyone cares about everyone else except me. (Untrue thoughts… another sign.)
But I reminded myself, “I got this.” And continued on to the plans I had that evening, because there were things to be done and to be done well!
The Actual Breakdown
Except when I arrived to said plans, my heart wouldn’t slow down. I couldn’t look anyone in the eyes. I couldn’t hold a conversation. I needed to go. (Unable to hold conversations… another sign something was off.)
And we left. I walked as fast as my short legs would carry me, tears streaming down my face.
We got into my boyfriend’s car and he pleaded, “What’s going on!? What’s wrong?”
“I am so alone. No one cares about me. No one loves me or understands what goes on in my head. I DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT GOES ON IN MY HEAD,” I replied.
“What are you talking about? I love you so much. You have so many people who love you and care about you. You’re not alone,” he consoled.
When Consolation Isn’t Enough
His open heart and his kind words were not sinking in. They didn’t sink in in the car ride. They didn’t sink in when I got home and ran to my room only to start sobbing. They didn’t sink in when I went into panic and couldn’t come down. They didn’t sink in when my mom reaffirmed what he said. When my dad reaffirmed what he said. When my therapist reaffirmed what he said. When my best friend reaffirmed what he said.
No one could break through the lies that were running through my head. No one.
“Why is this happening?” I asked myself. “Nothing is wrong!” Because, remember, I was happy and there were things to be done and to be done well!
And We Continue On
I functioned fine the next day. But I didn’t slow down. I went to everything that was planned because, “I got this,” of course. And I only had one meltdown and now the meltdown is over and now we continue on.
The day did continue on. Conversations were hard. But I smiled and made small talk and was doing just fine.
But then the next day came. I broke down in panic again, and then after much consoling from my therapist, went on a run only to break down yet again (read: panic attacks). My most caring roommate came and picked me up from the side of the road, which happened to be right next to the Emergency Room.
Trust me. I was tempted to walk in and ask, “Do you have an opening for 5-7 days where I can just sit and stare at a wall and a nice doctor can tell me I’m going to be okay and that this too shall pass and that my responsibilities will be less burdensome when I leave this shiny place?”
But she picked me up before I mustered up the courage to waltz in.
Let The Learning Begin
All of these signs were pointing to one conclusion: I had let myself take the back seat, as I tried to do-do-do and live up to the self-imposed high standards I’d set for myself. The thing was, I’d been in this place before. Except this time, it came as a shock. I was happy and living a full life. Why was this happening?
That’s for next time. Stay tuned for Part II.
