Issue #72: The lessons I learnt from overwhelm

Jesus took three days to return after Easter – this mere mortal took three weeks. Some thoughts on rediscovering joy and balance after burnout.

‘Get your head down and work’. That wasn’t my official school motto, but it was the mantra of a senior teacher. Getting your head down was a badge of honour. A precondition for the real, worthy goal: a shiny collection of A* grades. I recall the same teacher advising us, ahead of the summer revision period, to stay indoors while studying. You know as well as I do, girls, that you won’t stay focussed in the sunshine.

Receiving this advice during my formative years, I created a false dichotomy in my head. On the one side: joy, fun, interaction, togetherness, community, balance, the outside world. On the other: success, good grades, productivity, excellence.

I’ve spent my adult life interrogating this. I now know that success doesn’t feel like success unless it’s shared: either through co-creation, or mutual support. I know, also, that nothing works unless I do. I cling to my work-life balance: to healthy habits; daily rituals; weekly routines; regular practices. Last month, I lost sight of that, as I faced a period I’ll describe, with hindsight, as Death by a Thousand Deadlines™️. I reverted to the muscle memory of my school days. I got my head down, pushing aside my work-life in favour of simply getting the words out, without stopping to take a breath. It did not look good…

Looking back, the signs of overwhelm were there. Accidentally placing a pair of muddy ASICS, sole-down, on my clean white duvet. Taking my yoga teacher’s feedback a little too personally (note to self: Iyengar yoga, which entails suspending yourself upside down from a rope, is not the best remedy for a stressful day). Reading & analysing the wrong (9,000 word) extract for my creative writing course. Forgetting to reply to my closest friends’ WhatsApps. Almost missing a plane flight, when I’m typically a 2.5 hours beforehand kind of gal.

Further supporting evidence for the jury: weird eating habits - powered by stress, or overwhelm, rather than a desire to savour, let alone properly prepare, anything. Withdrawing in social situations, rather than being my natural extroverted self. Choosing Cal Newport’s latest productivity guide as my relaxing (!) bedtime read. The hours and hours of academic research invested in a single line for a newspaper feature, which got cut in the final edit.

All this is to say, I lost balance. I made the deadlines, of course – so my former teacher’s efforts weren’t wasted. And yet, I did so in the shadows. Overwhelm dangled above me like a cartoon anvil: the chronic threat of not getting it all done.

I took a break from this newsletter, the longest since it started in October 2022. Now, I’m recalibrating. And I’m glad to be back, writing for you again, and grateful to you for sticking with me throughout this period. There’s a clarity that follows in the wake of overwhelm. And here’s what it taught me:

1. To assess my priorities (and stick to them): Something’s gotta give. Which isn’t just the title of a great Nancy Meyers rom-com, but also the realisation you come to when trying to balance too much at once. Burnout taught me to be lethal, in this respect. I realised the logical conclusion of saying yes to everything and everyone: saying no to myself. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about my values and goals. I’ve let go of, or paused, certain things (freelancing for magazines; dating apps; some hobbies; my former wanderlust) in favour of others (regular work; local gatherings; creative writing; friendship apps like MeetUp; close friends). Hard at first, infinitely rewarding in the long-term.