It was January 2021. I was on a Zoom call with my whole team, listening to an incredible leader say all of the things I knew my team wanted to hear. Her speech was inspired, and affirming, and we had all waited so long to hear someone in her position say all of the things she was saying. And I turned my camera off, and I sobbed. It wasn’t a sob of relief or of joy, it was a sob of despair.
I wasn’t able to rejoice or feel good – as most of my team did – I just felt tired – exhausted really – and it just felt like too little too late. I was well and truly, after 9 years, experiencing burnout.
I worked in the Child Welfare system on a team that was truly doing impactful work supporting families, giving voice to the folks most marginalized in the system. Over nearly a decade I had seen momentus, positive systems change. And yet, the system still felt so broken to me I could no longer bear it.
Leading up to this moment I had been losing sleep for months. I would wake up at 3 or 4 in the morning thinking about work, about COVID, about racism, and what I was going to DO about it all. I felt immense pressure to protect my team and my family from COVID, to effectively transition an in-person team to a remote one, and to better understand how I was contributing to the systemic racism that white America could no longer ignore in the face of the very public murder of George Floyd. I wanted my team and my organization to do better. In early 2021, the messages to “keep calm and carry on,” and focus on individual self care were everywhere. And I just kept feeling, there is no amount of self care I can practice that will allow me to sustain working in an oppressive system.
Over the next few weeks and months I took stock of where I was in life: I had a job where I felt useful, supported, secure, but where I often worked too late and saw too little of my family. My social, spiritual and creative life was nearly nonexistent. All around me people had started to quit or retire and this made me wonder: am I still in the place I want to be? I couldn’t see a satisfying “next step” in my current organization.
During the pandemic my team was able to work remotely, and at first, I was glad to get rid of my commute. I thought I was getting 40 minutes to an hour back in my day! But in practice, what that meant was I just worked that extra time, I didn’t use it intentionally to balance out my habit of working 9-11 hours per day. Instead of getting texts from my husband at 6:30 asking when I would be driving home, he just hollered up the stairs to ask if I was done working so we could have dinner. My kids would bounce up the stairs wanting to talk to me and I’d tell them “I just have to finish one more email.”
I also noticed that I just felt less motivated and less hopeful – and this was what felt the most unsustainable. The thing I felt most deeply was that I had to project a kind of positivity and hopefulness I just didn’t feel anymore. This ability to project hope was, for me, the most fundamental part of being a leader – and a parent and a wife. I knew something had to change.
So first, I started running. I remembered that in the past, running had helped me to improve my mood. So I started running in the mornings before work – not every day, but enough that I could tell it was helping my energy level, my sleep, my mood, and my ability to function at work. I bought good running shoes and comfortable activewear to make it feel like less of a chore.
I accessed therapy. I was fortunate to work with someone who felt like the right therapist for me. She normalized what I was experiencing during the pandemic as a very common dynamic – I wasn’t alone in working more once my commute was eliminated, and losing an important time boundary between work and home. Lots of folks were feeling the increased anxiety of living day to day with a sense of fear and isolation. She helped me to see the value in constructing a new end-of-day ritual that would help my brain and body understand “I’m not at work anymore, it’s time to be at home with my family now.” My therapist also helped me to remember all of the coping skills I had that I simply stopped using: talking with friends, journaling, knitting and yoga.
I talked with my boss and my family & friends about my feelings of burnout. It turned out many of them were having their own experiences of burnout, or had in the past. It really helped me to hear their perspectives, and to give and receive mutual support from people close to me. I also created a book group focused on un-learning racism and began making financial contributions to local organizations supporting families of color. Feeling part of a community – that I wasn’t alone – felt huge.
I considered my need to change my job. I decided I would apply for jobs and see what opportunities came my way. I decided I would only pursue those I was really excited about, and not just change for the sake of something new. During interviews, I asked very direct questions of prospective new employers: How many hours would you expect me to work as a leader? How much of my work would be remote vs. in person? How supportive is your work culture? How would you support me in my professional development? What fees, exams, credentials and tuition would your organization pay for?
When the right opportunity came along, I leapt. I knew it was right not just because the pay and benefits were better, but because I was really excited to work with the person who would be my new boss, and I knew I would be in a position to learn and develop in areas I was excited about.
I built new habits during the transition to a new job. There is lots of evidence that new habits are more likely to “stick” when your brain is already being made to learn new routines in new environments. I used a habit tracker as a visual reminder of the habits I wanted to reinforce. Over time, my days felt more like they were within my control, I was working fewer hours, being more creative, and prioritizing my own wellness in multiple ways throughout my day.
I truly feel that on the other side of burnout, my life feels happier and more balanced. I wish I could say there was a quick fix, but it took several months – and consistent work. My feelings of hopelessness and burnout gradually receded and eventually disappeared. The good news is, we can recover from burnout if we work at it, tap into our own wisdom, and ask for support.
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