One of the most beautiful things you can do when you’re overly emotional is carefully describe what it is you’re feeling.
Not only does this practice help you, but your account may carve a doorway where, for another, existed nothing but walls.
How do you tell someone How to break free from the grips of hell When they’re the one With burns Cuts Scrapes Bruises And gashes; And all you’ve got are words From unblemished pages And pure intentions
Be someone who’s missed They said So I spent my life Collecting notifications From distant platforms To prove to myself That people think of me I thought But something was missed
When someone needs help But, they aren't asking For the help they need Because they need help Asking for that kind of help I can't help but to hurt How to make sense Of what's helping too much And what's only going to hurt When hurt is what helps And help is what hurts It has to come from them But, what if it can't?
Burnout generally happens slowly, slowly, and then all at once.
It’s sneaky.
It isn’t obvious that it’s happening. But, once it happens, it’s already too late.
The question to consider is, how can we notice the burn before we become all the way burned out?
My thought? By noticing whether or not we’re taking time away from what’s required for a full recharge. Here it is in three steps:
Because here’s the thing about recharging: if you don’t mange this yourself, eventually your body will force you to do it—in full—without your consent.
And burnout never has good timing.
“Burnout is sneaky because you don’t realize you’re borrowing from tomorrow to push through today.”
Emily Leahy, Twitter
And when you borrow too much from tomorrow (or from too many tomorrows), you’ll eventually have nothing left to give in the current day.
And when that happens—when you’ve reached your “credit limit”—your body cuts you off from future energy supplies and shuts down.
Hence why burnout often feels like life in a vegetative state.
And hence why burnout often looks like an absurd number of hours spent sushi rolled up in your fuzziest of blankets while Netflix plays reruns of shows you’ve already seen as you fill yourself up with the emptiest of calories you have stored in the darkest of corners in your kitchen as emotional music plays softly in the background of your dimly lit rooms.
It’s not because you’re lazy, a failure, or because you suck at life—it’s because the energy from each of those “absurd hours” has already been spent.
And until you get current again with your “energy payments” it’s likely that “sushi-ed up” is how you’ll remain.
Until eventually, you become current, have a renewed source of life energy and get another chance to start spending again.
Except this time, hopefully you’ll only spend what’s within the limits of your current day—one day at a time.
Today marked one of the first times I can recall…
Where I felt irritable and anxious…
And told myself…
I’m going to need to double my meditation time today.
This, I’d say, is an excellent marker of progress for my own mental health awareness.