Sleepy Hollow
Burnout and Bonfires
The past few months of my life have felt hectic.
My body appears to have subscribed to the boom-bust cycle theory of economics. For me this has meant periods of feeling stressed and overexerted at work, followed by periods of deep, fatigued, wipeout at weekends to try and restore myself.
And it’s not been working well.
The restoration isn’t arriving. No recuperated lust for life. No joie de vivre flowing through my spirit.
Instead, I’ve arrived at a point where making basic decisions has felt borderline impossible. Achieving basic movement, like standing in the shower and washing my hair, feels like I’m motivating myself up to travel the world in 80 days. I am tired. I am foggy. I am in pain.
In the week past, many different people in my life, entirely independent of one another, kept using the same phrase: ‘burnout’.
“You’re totally burning yourself out dude!”
“Sounds like you need a proper rest”
The word makes me think of Dark Souls, and their famous bonfires. These are the only places in Lordran you can get a proper rest. I imagine myself like one of the denizens you find around that world - a Hollow.
Here’s a quote about what happens to humans who don’t get a good night’s kip at a bonfire:
“…[humans] slowly lose their minds and become Hollows, as the strength that allows them to have a will and emotions and remain a human is consumed from within them…” - Dark Souls Wiki
Supernaturally fatigued. Without will. Executively dysfunctioned. Emotionally hung out to dry. Human, interjumbled.
I am a sleepy Hollow.
What is going on?
There’s a few things at play here, beyond just work life and I want to write them out, largely for my own fog-addled brain to make sense of.
Firstly, I have hypothyroidism. Hashimoto’s disease, to be precise.
My own immune system has decided that my thryoid gland is the enemy, and must be routed. The thyroid gland is often described as ‘butterfly-shaped’. I’m fairly sure mine has reconjugated itself back into being ‘caterpillar-shaped’.
Treatment for this has been a mixed bag for me, despite being routinely told by medics it should be straight forward. Websites like Stop The Thyroid Madness are a welcome connection point to other people dissatisfied with their treatment, but there’s no easy solution waiting around the bend.
I also suffer from what appears to be Fibromyalgia. I say ‘appears to be’ because when I asked my doctor how to go about getting a diagnosis, they explained
“Well, there’s no test for these things so we’ll just treat you as if you have it, but a diagnosis will only make it harder to get a mortgage and put your life insurance premiums up.”
Well, thanks for the financial advice there, doc.
Financial advice has been a surprisingly common topic in my dealings with my local health centre.
The symptoms are there. I feel a constant pain in parts of me, particularly in my arms, but increasingly in my neck and head. This is always there, but some days, that I refer to as ‘pain days’, see the volume dial getting turned up a few decibels. Recently I’ve been experiencing these headaches of electric shooting pains, emanating from my neck and shoulders, and shooting up the sides of my head like high-voltage creeping ivy.
My doctor did medicate me at least, with Gabepentin. This has made a difference with some of the nerve pain, but it never quite goes away and it doesn’t stop the days when things are that little bit louder. And it’s not stopped the escalation in headaches.
Here’s an incredible description of Fibromyalgia I read recently:
Thing is, fibro is tough to live with in a lot of ways. People think it's all about the pain but the pain is only one part of it. On top of the pain, there's fatigue and brain fog and depression and so much else. During flare ups, all of those symptoms ramp up. Imagine waking up with zero energy like you haven't slept properly in weeks. And while you're tired, someone wrapped your brain in cotton wool and jumbled up all the wires in your head so things that should connect don't. You have no energy and less motivation and everything hurts more than normal, kind of like it does if you took a really bad fall and are bruised all over. Every little task feels monumental and you don't have the resources to pull it off. It's overwhelming and a lot of things go by the wayside. I can't maintain friendships much less relationships because things like conversations and messages feel unnecessary when all you can do is focus on making it the next 20 steps to get to the bathroom. It sounds really dramatic but it be like that sometimes. This isn't even touching on the feelings of guilt, shame, and remorse for not being able to be as present as you want to be.
- ‘EsotericMango’, Reddit
This poster captured it better than my brain could possibly conceive of, which is no longer grey matter, but more over-grown marshland.
There are other ailments I could spend more time over but I will simply list here for the sake of brevity, including asthma, irritable bowel weirdness, and acid reflux.
All of these have combined with a relentless insomnia that has left me feeling truly hollow.
Burnout is often discussed from a work perspective, and that’s accurate, but I feel consumed by all aspects of daily life. I feel burned out on the 20 steps it takes to get to the bathroom.
Bonfire Ignited
I deciced to listen to the small chorus of voices around me saying the same thing.
“Rest is not failure” - A friend
I decided it was time to rest at the bonfire. To refill my Estus cup.
I spoke the words, confident and clear: “So…other people have been saying…er…telling me…maybe I’m getting a wee bit...burnt out…”.
Okay, maybe not so clear or confident, but definitely spoken.
I made plans. To book a couple of weeks off in July. To actually use up extra hours and take some half-days and time back.
I’ve done a little bit of that - enough to allow me the brain space to actually write this. Enough to begin the process of decompression. To resurface slowly without getting the bends.
This week I took the time to go see my oldest son performing his big trombone debut at the school assembly. That was certainly restorative, and it was nice to see him perform, and know it had helped him that a parent had made it. It was nice to feel helpful. He did exceptionally well. I couldn’t help but reflect on how confident he was in comparison to me standing at the same age, in the exact same church.
After all, it would have the exact same end-of-year assembly - the end of Primary 6 - when I’d have been stood receiving a third-place medal for the local Burns recital competition. I had been filled with anxious dread about this performance of ‘Ode to a Mouse’, which amounted to little more than standing in front of 20-odd classmates, for weeks in advance. My Mum had even gone and begged the teacher, the head teacher, to let me get out of it as I was so strung out. On the day, I impulsively decided to give it a go. I somehow pulled off a coup and got to the dizzy heights of third place.
On reflection, this may well have been the very beginning of a longer pattern of relying on the energy of stress to get through difficult situations - and I may be guilty of repeating this pattern to this day.
I did take some more time this week though - an early finish to unwind.
I took some time to delve deep into a recent game release. Despite the Dark Souls references, this was surprisingly not Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree.
Instead, I spent some time in a magical city named Rogueport in the world of Paper Mario and the Thousand Year Door. This game has been a real haven for my mind the past few weeks - somewhere to escape to, that offered some bright and breezy primary-coloured joy, and I intend to write all about it in my next post.
For now, here’s to restoration, and the people kind enough to remind me I should prioritise it.
“Be safe friend. Don’t you dare go hollow.”
Laurentius, Dark Souls