Actual Burnout

So it seems my Indie Web Burnout, was actually an early warning sign that I totally missed.

When one domino falls, the rest follow.

Creativity is the first thing to withdraw when entering burnout, so really I should have seen it coming.

In October, I passed my 6 year milestone at work. I've never worked anywhere for so long, and I have grown a lot in that time. But also in October, I went off-sick from work with burnout. I reached a point, sat at my desk, when I realised I needed intervene myself, step in and do something. Continuing to juggle many glass balls was eroding my sense of self and my mental health. Having a breakdown over a simple modal, was not normal or healthy.

In those 4 weeks, I tried to make some structure. I needed something to cling onto, to feel this time was useful and 'productive' - the overhang of overworking and capitalism doing it's thing. The first week was enforced chill. Calming down my nervous system. Making a safe space. I told myself I could plan in week 2, but that didn't stop my brain from going brrr about what to do next. But setting chill rules, I could remind myself it was ok to stop. Sleeping until I woke up naturally was the first thing I did. Letting my natural rhythm take hold. I focused on meals, and making food at home, I learned to make a banging beef stew and spent time with my dog and friends.

Week 2, I was allowed to start planning or at least making sense of my brain. I sat with paper and pen at a local coffee shop for a few hours to structure everything out. I still didn't have a What To Do Next plan, but I left with a lighter head about how I was feeling towards everything. I made lists, and dreams, and started to think beyond the end of the day, beyond the end of the week and towards my next few years. My time horizon is short, I suck at planning long term, so this whole process was new to me and felt strange.

Week 3, I had just got another doctors note to sign me off for a further 2 weeks, so I relaxed a bit. The anxiety I felt about returning so soon filled me with dread and I felt shutdown. But with the fit note, I started to relax and that safe space I had been trying to create in week 1 started to appear. I was doing art, going to pottery, having meals with a friends and family in the evenings. I noticed an attitude change to these things, while working, I would resent having to do things in the evening, it was me time, it was recover time. If it was taken away to do social things, the next working day would be harder with less fuel in the tank. But now I was looking forward to them, I could prepare and contribute by making a meal, rather than turning up empty handed. Week 3 was the best for filling up my cup.

Week 4 arrived, and I started to think about what work looked like when I returned. I was having return to work calls with HR, making my requests and seeing what could be done. I was in a better headspace, but still couldn't see myself sitting at my desk coding all day. I hadn't stepped into my office once whilst being on sick leave. Going back to full time chaos still filled me with caution and apprehension. I'd decided applying for a flexible working arrangement was best for the long term, having Fridays 'off'.

Back at work, I had a phased return, and I'm still on that now. Though it is minimal. My spark is still dormant, I'm functional, but still healing. Not having my spark is frustrating, confusing, and emotional. It feels like something in my brain is lodged out of place, and I can't put it back because I can't find it.

I could have done with more sick leave, but 4 weeks was all I could afford financially.

My long term plan is still in place, but it's flexible. I won't write it down here. But thinking further ahead is a skill I am working on. Journaling helps, it makes thoughts tangible. I have my self-awareness and my boundaries that I will now protect.

My meals have gone back to quick and dirty, I don't have time or social capacity for evening events again. So part of the cycle is repeating. But I see it. I acknowledge it. And I'm doing quiet little things to make it better. Functional, but healing, or at least trying to heal.