When You’ve Failed
An overachiever’s tips for how to accept yourself and reignite when you’ve burned out
Some background: I was always an overachiever. From the time I was little, I think I took the Barbie “you can do anything” idea a little too seriously. If Barbie could be a pilot, doctor, dancer, astronaut, president, and general beauty queen all while taking care of her siblings and managing a relationship, I could do it too.
For a while, this worked. I was precocious and talented, often years ahead of my peers due to the privilege of a private early education and many caretakers devoted to my growth. I could sing and dance, act, read complicated novels, play instruments, manage school, and maintain an early semblance of a social life.
Even in highschool, it was relatively simple. I did everything. Band, choir, if it was anything art I was probably involved. My social life was full and thriving. I balanced relationships and grades, for the most part, and was overwhelmingly successful in everything that I set out to do. I applied to two colleges and I got into both, with scholarships. I tried out for captain of my majorettes team as a last-minute venture and I got it. I was near the top of my class, and the top of the world.
After college, though, this shifted. Even throughout, I had begun suffering from a few setbacks in finances and mental health, and the natural shifting of my social circle, slowly spreading apart at the faults like a friendship Pangea as we all went off in different directions. This is where I started to falter. Things I would apply for, I’d miss out on. Jobs I wanted would skip over me. Talents that I’d had before, I had no time to work on any longer, so they were slipping. I started seeing people younger than me monetizing hobbies I had before I knew that monetization of pastimes was an option.
Now, post graduate school, I’m still managing this feeling of loss and inadequacy and learning how to refocus my efforts to get back in the saddle, so to speak. Here’s what I’ve learned on my slow journey towards accepting failures when I’m not used to them.
1. Literally everyone fails
Even Barbie. It might not feel like it, but even the people who seem like they’re on top of the world in a career that you want are likely failing at something. They’re also balancing work and life, potentially education and relationships. Possibly finances.
It’s really easy to forget that everyone struggles, and all of these struggles are valid. No one completes every single thing that they set out to do exactly the way that they intend to do it. There are often shortcuts, and secret passageways, and sometimes, people give up on initial goals entirely when life changes. This is normal, and okay.
2. Comparison kills
Do you scroll through Instagram looking at the successes of your peers? Who bought their first house? Who’s doing international travel? Who finished another degree? Who got married to their dream partner with a beautiful wedding? Who’s a social influencer? Who got their dream job?
Social media only shows us a portion of what’s actually going on in people’s lives. Just like Yelp reviews for restaurants (no really, follow me here) you generally are only getting the best and the worst posted online. Tragedies? Probably alluded to, if not posted outright. Major successes? Also posted. The mundane garbage that comes between these two things? 98% of the rest of life. Not posted.
I traveled to Europe, finished an MFA (and a rough draft of a book), and moved cross-country all on Instagram, and I’ve had peers tell me that they’re jealous. They don’t see the struggles, the finances, the mental health disasters, and the overwhelming nothingness that makes up the rest of my days. No one posts about these things. You can’t compare yourself to someone’s highlights.
3. You might need to focus
What, practical advice? Teenage me would refuse this outright. Currently I’m working on three “side hustle” Instagram projects for art, trying to re-learn an instrument, looking very seriously at Youtube as a hobby, finding an apprenticeship for body art, and trying to establish myself as a freelancer with a livable workload. This is only half of what I want to do, and even this feels unsustainable.
Focusing on one thing that you can do really well will help you succeed in that thing. This doesn’t mean you have to give the other things up, but you might have to put them on the backburner for a little while as you complete this primary objective. Maybe you only have room for one hobby or side hustle outside of your “day job”. Maybe you’re only just managing with school and work. Maybe you’re a stay at home parent and you’re barely balancing that with maintaining fitness. That’s okay.
It’s better to do a few things well than all of the things poorly.
4. Recognize your burnout symptoms
When I burn out, I spend days in bed. I don’t eat, or sleep really, I’m just dead to the rest of the world. When this passes, I’m back up and ready to grind myself down again. Right before my burnout, I experience loads of anxiety and feel the need to do everything all at once. This is my burnout symptom.
When you recognize it, and find it happening to you, take a step back from what you’re doing and act more mindfully. Is this thing really helping me progress? Am I taking in any of this information? Is this useful? Is it making me happy?
If so, continue, but perhaps isolate the thing you’re doing. If not, it might be time to take a break.
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It can be exhausting trying to keep up with yourself after years of success and happiness, suddenly not being able to catch a break. It’s important to be patient with yourself, focus on your health and necessities, and let the other things come to you when it’s safe to do so. Being an overachiever is bound to lead to burnout eventually if you’re not gentle with your progress, and understanding of your shortcomings. Not allowing yourself to burn out completely, though, will allow you to continue to grow at a steady pace.
