 After three weeks back at work, the nastiest head cold found me. Ideally, I would take the time off and get better, but I don’t have the sick time, and I can’t afford it besides. Ordinarily, I would power through. I didn’t deem sickness or fatigue all that valid, or at the very least, it shouldn’t shut me down. At my previous custodial job, I once worked with both influenza and strep throat. Not my finest moment. But something changed this summer. When summer started, I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it—whether reading a book, or writing, or whatever task needed done. And when I tried, I had to claw and fight for every step. It’s unsettling. The ability to do something I’d been able to do forever . . . disappeared. And I couldn’t know when it would come back. If it would come back. I’d break out every so often. I’d complete all those little tasks. I’d read a couple books. And then I’d fall right back in the slump. It was bewildering—it wasn’t because I didn’t have time. I had plenty of time. I wanted to do all these things. But watching a movie was always easier. Or scrolling my phone. Or staring off into space. Sometimes it felt like that was all I could do. My favorite things weren’t giving me joy. Or if they were, I wasn’t receiving it. I would console myself with the idea that I was just stressed, and when X, Y, or Z would resolve themselves, then I’d get all my energy back. Once school let out, I’d have more time and less stress. But then X, Y, and Z resolved themselves and no magic motivation sparked. So if it wasn’t outside circumstances, what was wrong with me? I got more and more scared that something was really, truly broken in me. I could do way more than this when I was thirteen, why couldn’t I handle everything now? (How convenient to forget that it stressed me out when I was younger, too.) I was in full flaming burnout. Years of pushing through it and sucking it up caught me. And then, right before work started again in August, some mental switch flipped. I noticed it in my reading first. I wanted to read everything I could get my hands on. I finished books that had been gathering dust on my shelf. I met my Goodreads challenge within the month. And I enjoyed it again. How? For the first time this year, I was forced to slow down. I couldn’t do it all, no matter how hard I tried. I can’t keep up with everyone around me, and that’s okay. So when I got that nasty cold, instead of reasoning it out—“I’m not that tired, others have it lots worse, there’s no reason I can’t do XYZ”—I just rested when I felt tired. One day, I went home after work and slept for almost fourteen hours. But I needed that rest, and it helped me beat my cold symptoms. Because the biggest lesson burnout taught me, a lesson I couldn’t make out in the thick of it, is that it doesn’t have to make sense. If I try to make it all make sense, I’ll burn out over and over again. I accepted that I was tired. And even if it didn’t make “sense,” I gave myself what I needed. To get better from my cold, I rested when I felt tired. To recover from my reading slump, I chose books that interested me and ignored the ones I didn’t. I didn’t worry about what all I “should do” (alright, I did try, but it didn’t succeed this time). Sometimes we Christians get so caught up in self-sacrifice and service that we forget that we can’t help others the way they need help, if we’re crashing ourselves. It’s a fine line. On one hand, we need to give ourselves what we need, things God has provided, things like rest and relationship and all the things that bring us joy. But on the other, we need to make sure we don’t ignore things God has given us to do. I used to worry so much. What if I wasn’t following God’s will? What if I was sinning horribly and didn’t know? What if I was missing out on a once in a lifetime chance and had no clue? Burnout also taught me that God will show me what I need to do. I can’t ignore something if I’m not conscious of it. It’s not my job to make myself perfect, it’s God’s. And He can do that job perfectly—without burnout. I wish I had it all figured out. I wish I could say I’ll never face burnout again. Unfortunately, I know burnout will come. It’s part of a broken world. But I hope that when it does come again, I’ll remember what I’ve learned. I hope I’ll give myself what I need and what God has given me to succeed. How's your September been? What do you do when you feel tired and burnt-out? Share your adventures in the comments below!
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