I’m recovering from burnout.
For the last week I needed about 8-9 more hours of sleep than usual. My body simply refused to function, and even encouraging emails stressed me out because I felt overwhelmed to have to open and read them.
Needless to say, I had no choice but to spend a lot of time in bed, and any other time in introspection about what led me to that kind of grogginess. For many (hopefully obvious) reasons, I knew it probably wasn’t mono. I also didn’t think I’d simply over-committed, because my workload hadn’t changed and still felt very doable when I was in the right frame of mind. By the end of the week, I think I’d gotten a grasp of what had happened.
When I decided first in college and then years down the road to pursue writing professionally, it was partially because I believed that a creative life would be the most transformative option for me – and it has been. Writing about myself and other people, thinking up new stories, and even writing copy for companies have all changed me for the better even more than during my stint in a profession devoted exclusively to “personal transformation.”
Art has a way of calling us into something better. Just like an Olympic athlete always fights to break the records, artists fight to bring themselves and the rest of the world into a new understanding or experience. Good art always pushes that boundary and calls its creator & audience into something more whole.
Playwright Terrence McNally (Ragtime, Kiss of the Spider Woman, Love! Valor! Compassion!) says, “The theater has the ability to make us better people – and by better, I mean more caring, more informed, more passionately committed human beings.”
Sadly I don’t think we often see that. Too often we see the arts as a biting, backstabbing profession where uninformed narcissists produce political propaganda at best and call their viewers into anger and division.
But the best work – whether comedy or drama, visual art or poetry – avoids those attitudes as much as possible and demands something better of itself and of everyone who comes across it. Creating it requires a certain global awareness, a compassion for people who have less, and an openness to stories better than our own.
Artists can be comedians, priests, and human rights activists all at the same time, but for the last few weeks I think I’d lost that sense of calling and purpose when at work. Writing had become a duty or a means to an end, rather than a privilege and an opportunity to express what the Creator in me wanted to say. Letting other motives get in the way produced worse art and, eventually, a worse person.
I realized I was burning out before the exhaustion hit. I could tell it was happening every time I refused to forgive or said something abnormally short and rude. Writing doesn’t make me perfect in that regard, but it used to help me see the world in a much more merciful way. That’s what I needed time to get back to. Time and many hours of sleep.
Later this week I hope to talk about at least one of the main ways I see artists, including myself, pulled away from becoming better through their work and thus less able to tell stories that could change the world. That’s if I rest enough in the meantime!
Until then, I’d love to know if anyone reading this has experienced burnout and, if so, what helped you recover?
–
(Photo info)
This is a very good description of burn-out. I’m not sure what causes it but I do think sleep cures it better than anything else, so maybe it’s a neurological deficit caused by over-straining in some way – emotional, physical, psychological? That’s just a guess.
Life is hard going sometimes and it doesn’t matter much what you do as a lot of stuff will be outside your control. I’ve definitely been there and wish you all the best and I’m sure with buckets of sleep you’ll soon be fine! Best of luck.
Thanks for the kind thoughts! Yes, surely dealing with burnout (especially for us type A personalities) is probably a lot easier the more we accept our lack of control over the universe.
You know us, Joanna, and we “Are” examples of burnout personified. Having melted down in two countries, due to lack of adequate boundaries with people and activities…we apparently just don’t “get it” even after almost 40 years. Thank God you are at your younger age.
We stretched and stretched ..”.in the Holy Spirit”…”doing all things through Christ” and what we couldn’t do we tried anyway. I say this tongue in cheek, surely we must have run ahead of God…but we were deaf and dumb…didn’t pick up warning signs.
In those first forty years it was one of us pulling the other…When one didn’t feel strong enough, the other took on that person’s load and vice versa.
Now, both of us are older and tire easily…wondering what’s next. We’re much more sensible and limited…and I had been writing with great conviction, but also growing in a sense of isolation. We can’t/don’t travel and touch the world as we used to so my once exciting and live sources have dried up.
I feel like my life is behind me. Husband is beginning a new creative part of his life, but I have no idea where I will fit into it. It feels bleak to be in Post burn out…with the excitement gone.
I think we thrived on the freshness of the daily adventure of walking in the Spirit in risk and excitement out in the world.
I wish you total recovery. It is said in many books and people’s experience, that we never completely recover from all out burnout. I agree with this, and hope you have caught yourself in time.
Thanks so much, Mary. Yes, I definitely think I caught this early on. Actually even compared to how I felt right around when you and I first met years ago, I am much better, so I’d hate to make light of more serious cases as though a little sleep can just “cure” it.
I’m sorry to hear about your struggles post-burnout, as you put it. It’s hard for me to believe there aren’t more adventures in store for you. You’ve always seemed to me to be a woman who finds them wherever you go. I do hope you discover where you “fit in” to your new life, but I also hope you find where you don’t “fit in” and follow those paths, too. Thank you as always for the encouragement.
Like Mary I’m glad you’ve caught it, instead of pushing through. These are really good things for me to think about right now as I’m trying to set up a studio practice that’s sustainable. David and I have been talking about setting my schedule for sleeping, running, and studio. After being stressed out from academia and my two years on staff, I only now feel like I’m recovering and in a place where making work and making friends is possible. As I’m transitioning into grad school, I’m really nervous about becoming exhausted and letting anxiety rule my life. It’s strange to me to realize that I can ask God for energy, for help with making painting, and for freedom in my schedule. That’s what I’m hoping I learn to do better.
For myself I definitely see how I concentrate on the negative and have a generally pessimistic view of the world and of my own community when I’m tired and creatively burned out. Concentrating on those more hopeful or “transformative” aspects of creating helps. Many people have seen my work and heard what it’s about, and they share stories with me about their own families and upbringing. In these cases we’re becoming more connected–and everyone feels less like a weirdo. It’s exciting to me to make work that encourages others to share. Dialogues around anyone’s practices seem to go either way, like you were saying. What you’ve shared here helps me aim high.
Pingback: A Quick Way to Ruin Creativity « Joanna Castle Miller