Burnout

Many people use the term “burnout” loosely, to describe the way they feel when they’re tired, run-down, over-worked, under-nourished, in need of a break. But real burnout, as originally described by the American psychologist Herbert Freudenberger in the 1970s in his books Burnout, Women's Burnout, and others, although it may start with run of the mill exhaustion, goes far beyond it to a place where the sufferer wonders if they should check into a hospital or just crawl under a rock to live out the last few moments of suffering on this earth.

I may be exaggerating, but only a little. Real burnout implies not only physical collapse of one sort or another, but also psychic, emotional, psychological, and spiritual collapse. It necessitates change. The victim of burnout has no choice but to profoundly alter their way of living or suffer even more dire consequences.

Usually burnout sufferers have been living with chronic stress for some time. The stress can come from external sources such as work and family, but is just as often self-inflicted or the result of internal conflict. Even if the source is primarily external, it is usually the individual who has allowed the external sources of stress to augment over time, often through his or her incapacity to say no to extra demands, for fear of not being liked, of being thought weak or incompetent, of not wanting to let others down, and/or for a whole host of other reasons.

To further aggravate matters, often people on their way to burnout thrive on being busy, and love the excitement and stimulation of demanding careers and bustling family and social lives. These are often “Type A” personalities, always driven to seek an adrenalin rush of one sort or another. But it’s important to remember that “Type As” on their way to burnout are not necessarily obvious over-achievers. They can just as easily appear mild-mannered and calm: it’s what’s going on inside that really matters, and people that are prone to burnout have often developed an uncanny capacity for hiding and disguising their inner lives. Some burnout survivors have even seen themselves as spies, constantly shifting their identities to blend in with their environment, never revealing their true nature, their true feelings. Often not even to themselves.

And therein I think lies the core of the problem. People who are on their way to burning out have hidden their true selves¬—their true desires, their past, their true nature, the person they once were but haven’t been for some time—they manage to hide all this not only from everyone they know, but often even from themselves. They may feel this hidden identity as a form of agitation, of knowing that they want to be doing something else but not knowing what it is or how to integrate it into their lives; often they think they aren’t “allowed” or don’t have the right to follow their hidden passion or reveal their true self for some reason. The more they run from their true identity, the more the inner conflict builds, often to the point of exploding. Many people forestall, or perhaps even experience burnout by diverting all of this nervous energy into extramarital affairs, drug addictions, excessive risk-taking, and various other poor decisions. These activities may provide an outlet for a while, but eventually in one way or another the individuals will pay the price. Those who manage to avoid making catastrophic decisions may in fact experience the effects of burnout in a more immediate way; if there is no outlet (good or bad), the inner conflict and agitation will force one.

The physical effects of burnout can be devastating. The chronic stress and resulting exhaustion can result in irregularities in the production of cortisol, one of the “fight-or-flight” hormones (click here to read more about cortisol, stress, and burnout). Irregular cortisol levels are common to burnout, fibromyalgia, post-traumatic stress syndrome, and chronic fatigue syndrome. Chronic stress can wreak havoc with one’s muscles, which tend to collect tension, thus causing pain, which increases tension, which ramps up the pain, and so on in a vicious (and I mean vicious) cycle. It can interfere with sleep, which aggravates all the symptoms I’ve already listed, which in turn interfere with sleep, and so on in another vicious cycle. The exhaustion one feels leading up to and immediately following burnout is indescribable: it’s like your very life force has been used up, like the pilot light on a gas stove that can no longer ignite.

People who thrive on constant stimulation may not experience stress in its negative sense, but can still suffer the same physical consequences because they are constantly turned on, revved up, over-stimulated; they rarely pull the plug or decompress for any length of time. When external sources of stimulation are missing, they keep it going internally, either by letting their thought patterns get carried away with negative or excessive imagery, or by making excessive demands on themselves (write that book, start that business, run that marathon!). Often people prone to burnout are afraid to turn off; they are running from something, have been running for a long time, and don’t intend to stop anytime soon. Invariably, they are running from some element of themselves: their past, their lost dreams, their grief, their dashed hopes, their pain, their sorrow. Anyone would rather run on adrenalin than wallow in sadness. It’s as good a drug as any other.

People prone to burnout often have difficulty really looking after themselves. Yes, they take showers regularly, are well turned out, keep in shape, and to the outside world seem to be in fine working order. But it’s that inner self, the one they’re keeping hidden from the world, that they ignore. Burnout is that inner self’s way of making itself heard. The more you ignore it, the louder it will scream. The longer you leave it locked away, the hungrier and more desperate it will be when it finally gets out. The sooner you start looking after, or at least paying attention to, that vulnerable being hidden away inside, the sooner he or she will be able to heal and be reintegrated into the rest of your identity. Listen to the quiet, fragile voice of that long-lost child.