Deep in a hole of others making…
Falling into burnout.
I’m in burnout. Again.
Right now, I am remembering the story Leo told Josh on The West Wing:
“This guy’s walking down the street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep he can’t get out.
A doctor passes by and the guy shouts up, ‘Hey you. Can you help me out?’ The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole and moves on.
Then a priest comes along, and the guy shouts up, ‘Father, I’m down in this hole can you help me out?’ The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on
Then a friend walks by, ‘Hey, Joe, it’s me can you help me out?’ And the friend jumps in the hole. Our guy says, ‘Are you stupid? Now we’re both down here.’
The friend says, ‘Yeah, but I’ve been down here before and I know the way out’.”
I’m pleased to say that I know the way out. It’ll take time but I know it’s not forever and I understand it for what it is, this time.
So, how did I fall in?
Work.
That’s it, one word. I fell into this hole because I work with people who do not take my needs into account and just assume I can operate in precisely the same way that they do. Even though I have patiently explained that I can’t and even produced a “How I Work” guide.
It’s been a real shit few weeks with a new line manager, who replaced one who was supportive and protected me from the worst excesses of those who are higher ups. Not only has that support disappeared by the new line manager loves drama. So even the smallest insignificant event is a major issue which needs immediate attention.
Now add in the fact that we have moved office. The last one wasn’t great, but it had quiet spaces and was large. So, even though it was an open office, we weren’t on top of each other. The new one is smaller, has many more people and no quiet space. We also didn’t have roadworks right outside. Gotta love pneumatic drills, right?
Almost as much as I loved the resultant migraines.
Thankfully COVID-19 reduced the amount of office time and so this hasn’t been a daily issue. Of course, it was replaced by random Teams calls — even though I ask to be messaged first so that I can ready myself. Or the scheduled daily catch up which eats away a minimum of an hour of my working day and changes the priorities which we’d agreed just the day before.
These new priorities usually need to be completed instantly. Until an hour later, when they don’t.
And so, here we are, randomness, no routine, constant change, sensory overload…
Wait. Did I mention the organisational restructure? The one taking place just two years after the last one. When I had to reapply for my post, but didn’t get it? The one that resulted in my being in a role that I never really wanted in the first place… You can imagine how excited I am at the prospect of going through that whole process again. [/sarcasm]
Not only are organisations, and the world we inhabit, not built to cater for our needs, but the needs of autistic individuals have little or no consideration. We are expected to simply fit in and to work without meaningful change which will enable us to function most effectively.
The biggest challenge is that, even when we are vocal, no one listens. Until it’s too late and people are utterly shocked when there are issues. By the time they finally notice that we are struggling, we’re exhausted by the amount of masking and accommodations that we’ve been making.
At this point, we burn out, meltdown or walk… Go us! Thank you society.
My burnouts
I’ve experienced numerous burnouts now, at various points in my life. Until I was diagnosed, I assumed they were nervous breakdowns, but now I understand them better. I like to think that I’m finally learning how to manage them, although not enough to prevent it altogether, but for that to happen I’m reliant on other people playing their part too.
Burnout rarely comes with a warning of approaching doom but once you’ve reached it, it’s bleeding obvious. My protective buffers disappear, and I start to get irritable and intolerant of others. These small, incremental, changes aren’t always noticeable. The creep up on me, stealthily stripping away the essence of ‘me.’ Eventually even the smallest task becomes a huge mountain to climb. If I’m not aware, then finally I simply cannot face even getting out of bed. I just want, or rather need to sleep. To escape the world around me.
Fortunately, this time, I noticed some of the changes as they developed. The key was when I nearly snapped at my partner over something totally inconsequential. That was like the morning alarm going off, waking me from a deep slumber. I love her deeply and she is my rock, the only person who truly understands me and is 100% supportive, never pushing me beyond my boundaries.
For once I didn’t ignore my mind, my body, nor was I shouting down that little voice inside. I listened. Last Monday I simply stopped. I rang the office and said “enough.” Now I’m on sick leave. Again.
I know that this is a ‘big black mark’ and will affect my career. I simply don’t care anymore. As far as I am concerned, I am now OJR (On Job Retired), simply treading water until I can retire in eight years or get signed off early, on health grounds, with a full pension.
I utterly hate having to work with limited, or a complete absence of, accommodations as if I can function like I’m neurotypical. I’m not. I’ve loved what I do, and I’ve stuck with working in healthcare for over 25 years, but COVID-19 taught me one particularly important lesson — I need to look after myself and not just others.
Burnout shouldn’t be such a regular state of my being.
I accept that life doesn’t stop, and the demands keep coming. However, that doesn’t mean that I should be spending so much time in a state of damage control; making do with whatever adjustments I can make without rocking the boat too much.
Since my diagnosis I have been trying to live an authentic life, to be who I am and not who I am ‘expected’ to be. I’m determined to live life on my own terms and to better understand, and accept, what that actually looks like.
I’ve been down in this hole before; I know my way out. I just need to find away to avoid falling in so often.
