I look at my calendar for the week, schedule yet another social zoom meeting among the myriad of project deadlines, take a deep breath and breathe a heavy sigh. Okay, that’s two meetings on Wednesday, three on Thursday, one on Friday, and the mandatory family zoom on Sunday... “Maybe I can skip one of the Thursday ones?” I ask myself.
I’ve always known I was an introvert, but this fact has not become quite so overwhelmingly clear to me as it has over these last few weeks. Believe me, I love my friends, I love my family, I truly love people. I would honestly go mad, running circles of anxiety in my brain without the benefits that come with companionship. Laughter, engaging dialogue, and physical affection are all such integral parts of being a species rooted in community.
But lately I have loved being alone, I have wanted to be alone. At the beginning of quarantine, I found myself blessed with a multitude of projects. I was trucking along, doing well, keeping busy. Then, a couple of weeks ago I hit a wall. I looked at my to-do list and became completely overwhelmed with deadlines. Even my zoom meetings with friends felt like just another obligation, another set of promises which I would break, another way I would let people down. Instead of organizing my projects and tasks into a coherent hierarchy of priorities and chipping away at them to make some progress, I froze. Mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, Facebook, and Pinterest started taking up more and more of my time. I downloaded Scrabble onto my phone and instinctively played turn after turn. When I’d completed my turns, I started new games with strangers.
I just didn’t care about anything.
When talking with a friend about this lack of motivation, this shameful “laziness” I was experiencing, she kindly said, “Allison, that doesn’t sound like laziness. It sounds like burnout.”
There’s been a lot of talk recently about all this time we have at our disposal…
“Quarantine is a great time to learn a new skill!”
“I’m finally catching up on everything in my Netflix queue.” (or alternatively, “Ugh, I’ve already watched everything good on Netflix, there’s nothing left!”)
“I’ve already baked a pie and three loaves of bread this week, I don’t know what else to bake.”
I’d hear these exclamations from friends and family, and I’d try to keep my feelings of confusion and guilt hidden from view. “Where is everyone finding this time to get bored,” I’d ask myself? “Where is everyone finding the energy to bake every day?? I must be doing this wrong.”
Here’s the thing about this age we’re currently living in: We do have a lot of time on our hands. You know what else we have a lot of? Emotional stress. And you know what stresses most of us out? Feeling uncertain, like the future is unknown, like we have no control over anything.
This prolonged level of stress affects all of us differently, but chances are high that you, too, are finding yourself more irritable, more detached, or simply in need of more naps than you once were. Bottom line is it’s okay. You’re not quarantining wrong. You’re not broken. You’re not lazy. You’re just dealing with a lot right now.
Some (basic) things which have helped me when I start feeling burnt out:
Exercise
This sounds like such a cliché, and I’m stubborn to admit it but I notice a huge difference in my emotional well-being when I sweat on a daily basis. I’ve been really bad about this lately, probably because I’m convinced there are more “pressing” things on my to-do list, but if working out for 30-45 minutes means you’ll be 30-45% more effective for the rest of the day (and for me, it does) I feel like it’s worth it. Maybe you don’t exercise every day, that’s okay. Maybe you don’t do anything too strenuous, that’s okay too. The important thing is that you move your muscles a little and remind your body what it feels like to be alive.
Talk to someone
For me, it’s my sisters. For you, it might be a best friend, your mom, or a pastor. But gaining some perspective from outside your own head and finding a place where you can feel seen and heard is really important. I will also say that although I don’t go on a regular basis, the times in my life when I have sought out counseling, I found it to be hugely beneficial. It might be a good idea for you, too, to talk to a licensed therapist or mental health professional.
Eat well
This is kind of a no-brainer but it’s easier said than done, especially in times of stress. For me, this means eating leafy greens at least once a day, keeping my sugar intake low, and avoiding gluten (to which I am mildly sensitive). I’m not going to tell you to drink green smoothies and eat steamed broccoli, but I do find that when I fuel my body with what it needs, it just functions better. That doesn’t mean you can’t eat cookies or have a beer from time to time, but maybe don’t only fill your body with cookies and beer.
Sleep well
Also a no-brainer. Also difficult in times of stress. Full-disclosure: I am TERRIBLE at putting myself to bed. If I weren't so susceptible to peer-pressure and didn’t have a partner who is a sleep-loving robot, I would probably go to bed around 3am. But when I have a somewhat consistent bedtime I simply feel better. It might sound silly, but I’ve found a bedtime routine is helpful. Drinking some herbal tea (I like peppermint because chamomile is flowery garbage), then reading a book for 30-40 minutes usually puts me in a sleepy frame of mind. Also, I keep a notepad by my bed so when my mind starts working overtime with all the things I have to do the next day, I can jot them down instead of sleeplessly obsessing. And for the love of God, put down your phone. I am a big hypocrite with this one, but when I intend to “just look at Instagram for a couple of minutes” while lying in bed, 9 times out of 10 I will suddenly realize an hour has gone by and I’ve nothing to show for it. This stresses me out even more, making sleep an impossibility.
Gratitude
I know, I know, we’re all soooo blessed and have so much to be thankful for and blah blah blah, but hear me out. If you stop and take a moment to really think about all the amazing people and beautiful things you have in your life, it can sometimes give you a little perspective and let you reframe your troubles. The important thing with feeling grateful for all you have is to not let yourself slip into that sneaky trap of feeling guilty. This one’s really hard for me. How does one hold the weight of luck and privilege without guilt? It’s hard. I am so thankful that I am not only healthy, but that my friends and family are healthy. I am so grateful that I have an occupation which allows me to work from home, that I have clients and customers who are still hiring me, that I have savings which would protect me in a worst-case-scenario situation. I am so incredibly lucky to have a roof over my head and food in my fridge. But feeling guilty for having those things doesn’t actually do anything to benefit the people who don’t have those things. So don’t feel guilty for what you have, but if you’re able, consider giving to those less fortunate. If you have money, give to a worthy cause; if you have time and talent, donate your skills to someone who needs them; if you have the gift of empathy, call up a friend who is struggling and just listen. Fill out a postcard to a friend or family member and tell them they’ve been on your mind. Chances are, you’ve been on someone’s mind too.
Be good to yourself
I know we are all our own worst enemy and our own harshest critic, but try to cut yourself some slack. If you have a day where you don’t get anything “of substance” done (whatever that means), it’s okay. Tomorrow is a new day, and the next, and the next. We’re all struggling and we’re all figuring out this new way of living. So however you’re coping, just remember that this is new to all of us, that includes you, and all of us (and you!) deserve patience and understanding.