That morning I woke up as usual; I was on autopilot for the first hour getting my boys up and ready for school. I sat down to drink my coffee and contemplate the day ahead and then realised that I couldn’t move. Thinking it was just stiffness in my body, I tried to get up out of my chair but my body wouldn’t do it. Shocked, I tried to call out to my husband in the other room. My voice came out as a squeak, he didn’t hear me. As I began to realise that my body was rebelling against me, I also became aware that my thinking wasn’t very clear and I could feel a kind of fog descending, filling all the space in my head with its miasma.
I would not say that previous to this episode I was hale and hearty. I have arthritis in my cervical spine which leaves me in a lot of pain, I have more recently been diagnosed with a rare heart condition, known to be most common in South East Asian men, and 10 years previously I had cancer. So, there’s a lot going on in my body and brain, but this was something I had never experienced previously and I was completely freaked out by it.
The following few weeks were slow motion chaos. I had to cancel all that I had in my diary; some people were not happy at all but I couldn’t find the energy to care in the way I would have done before. One appointment I was able to keep was with my coach, who listened as I tried to explain what was happening to me through hot, gushing tears. I could feel my world, already diminished by the various health conditions, shrinking even further. Everything had to be weighed in terms of fatigue, both physical and mental. Exhaustion was never far away and I spent more time in bed than out of it. In the time that my brain could do any thinking, it was racing ahead with questions ‘Is this going to be permanent? Am I ever going to be able to function as I did before? Is this the start of ME/CFS or something similar?’
I began some therapy, something I had been considering for a while but always put it off. I also went back to an old habit which I had let go of: the daily practice of gratitude. For a number of years previously I had used the hashtag #3GoodThings to post on social media 3 things from that day which had been good. I had persuaded other friends to get involved and seen them go from being grumpy and pessimistic to sanguine and hopeful. I love this practice; I love its simplicity and its effectiveness. I love that in finding things to be grateful for on a daily basis we can literally rewire our brains to look for good instead of bad, to become more optimistic and hopeful for our future. It truly is a revolutionary practice that’s so simple to do!
Gradually over a number of weeks, my energy levels began to rise again. I was spending a lot of time resting, but also significant time in therapy or therapeutic activities including journaling. I read, I am so very thankful that my limited brain power still allowed me to read, albeit in shorter stretches than I would have done earlier. One book I read that had been on my shelf for a while was ‘Wintering’ by Katherine May. It was the height of summer but I definitely felt like I was experiencing winter: a retreating was taking place, one I had little control over, leaving me with no option other than to go with it and embrace what I could about the situation. My daily good things lists included things like sunshine, a comfortable bed, a warm home, painkillers and so on. I was drifting in a stupor of exhaustion and confusion for much of the time. When I did have some energy, it was spent in looking back, slowly beginning to realise that I was carrying a lot of emotional baggage. I was grieving and had not given myself space to do so fully, so my body and brain made the space for me. It was this profound realisation that finally gave me permission to lean into the experience.
By August I was getting some physical strength back. We went on a family holiday and I managed not to spend the majority of it in bed or on the sofa. I did spend much of the week following it recuperating but it was mostly worth it. The haze in my head took much longer to lift. I was fighting this daze week after week, hour after hour. Slowly being sapped of any ability to plan or project how I was going to feel from one hour, day or week to the next. It was hideously draining.
Eventually little bit by little bit I started to notice that my head would be clear for a short time in the mornings. Then I found I could think for longer periods before the fog descended again. Until finally, as the seasons outside drifted into winter, my internal season emerged from the depths of a frozen foggy wasteland.
There is nothing like a period of lack to make us more grateful for a return to whatever is normal for ourselves. Having decided to return to the daily practice of gratitude in order to reconnect myself with what is important, and to stop myself from sliding too far into a ‘poor old me’ mindset, I now found myself grateful for the return of something that felt normal! I couldn’t stop now, it had become even more significant to be thankful for this life, this corner of the world that I live in. #3GoodThings has been a significant practice for me, for over a decade now. None more so than last year, that horrible year in which there was still so much to be thankful for.
When practicing gratitude, however you do it, it’s important to remember that it’s not about bragging rights or about only presenting the good parts of life on social media. It’s essential that we are honest and genuine about our situation, whatever that is, as that gives this exercise its power. The truth about thankfulness is that whatever our situation, there is always, always, something to be grateful for. For me, that summer, this practice of searching for the good, of recognising what I did have that was good, soothed my fogged up mind; it helped me remember that even when life isn’t what we planned or how we imagined it would be, if we look for the good, we will find it and that will bring hope and gratitude.
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I am happy to report that, nearly three years on from this episode of burnout, my capacity for life has returned to a more usual state, though I still try to keep a rigorous hold on my diary. I have recently co-written a Grove Book on Wellbeing in Youth Ministry which has been published in the last month. If you would like a copy let me know!
Gratitude remains high on my list of coping when life gets chaotic or anxiety begins to creep in. It helps to ground me and keeps me hopeful. My wish is that it does the same for you too.
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Long comment alert!
Thank you for this, Jenni. I said ages ago that I’d be in touch on this subject, so here goes, finally…
My experience of burnout is different but similar. I’ve been working as a nurse with a homeless service (i.e. people with complex needs) for almost 20 years, and most of that time managing the service / team as well as doing most of the clinical work. Too much for one person.
So the burnout has been gradual, in the background, brought to a head by very poor, dictatorial, draconian, bullying management, which led to my ‘breaking down’ last Spring, with anxiety and depression, unable to cope, and a month off work.
Over recent months we’ve learned that the homeless service is being closed and I have redundancy (I finish at the end of this week) – bad news for our local community but a blessing in disguise for me. I’ve felt a sense of relief from a situation I felt trapped in. I’m getting a very attractive redundancy payment and have secured a job starting next month which I think is just made for me! So I’ve really landed on my feet.
Physical exhaustion was the chief physical symptom of my mental health crisis last Spring. I made a great recovery, but since then I still get odd periods of exhaustion, sometimes due to an identifiable trigger, but other times it just seems to come out of the blue – usually with a bit of emotional ‘flatness’ but no crippling anxiety or overt depression. It usually lasts 2-3 days, then suddenly I feel fine again.
I’ve recently started therapy, which is quite heavy work psychologically and may be one of the triggers, churning up my ‘demons’.
Like you, I’ve been journalling for about a year, which I find really helpful. I also recently compiled a list of the spiritual practices that I find beneficial to my faith and wellbeing, as a reminder to myself to do them: Contemplative prayer / silence / meditation; Daily examen; Gratitude; Wonder; Mindfulness / practising the Presence; Lectio divina; Active self-compassion; Guided reflections and devotionals: Nomad, Pray As You Go, John Butler etc; Walking with Nature: observing / forest-bathing / photography; Writing: nature blog / journal; (and as an afterthought as I realised all the above were lone practices!) Church / Hub / Communion / Meeting with friends.
So, as you can see Gratitude is in there, and I might just take up your idea of the #3goodthings!
I thought it would be good to compare notes. Well done on the book! And I appreciate the blog. All the best
Roger