Burnout

By Paris Grande

Do you remember going home? At the end of a day of work, you’d pack up your things and leave. Leave work at work. I haven’t gone home in over a year, much like most of us. I loved it at first, new projects, zoom calls, spending a whole day on one wig. It was freedom. Freedom to be creative, freedom to create. I was doing a new look every other day, taking on new work all the time. Networking. Meetings. Planning. Thinking. Doing. I was in my element. But like the saying goes, “all good things must come to an end”, and my god did it. It wasn’t an overnight change. It wasn’t an abrupt ending; it wasn’t that last day on holiday as you pack to fly back to wet and cold England that you know is coming but always feels like an evil surprise. This was a slow shift. A gradual realisation. I was exhausted. Zoom had become my virtual office, my workplace prison. And where could I go for escape? Where could I seek refuge when work had followed me home. Nay, I had invited it home. I welcomed it like a familiar friend, only for it to become an unwanted squatter. I was a hostage. My sanctuary, my safe space, my home. Gone. I began dreading meetings, even for projects I once loved. And zoom meetings are a fraction as productive as a real meeting. The informality of a meeting where everyone is in pyjamas from the waist down and in my case, the familiarity with the other participants, my friends, meant that 15 minutes of work would take an hour. And I was done. Drained.

I stopped doing new looks. I stopped taking new projects. I missed a few meetings here and there. I needed to find a way to sustain and make this lockdown world work, or I could lose all the hard work I’d put in to establish myself back in Hastings. I needed a way to go home from my home. I started small, no meetings after 8pm, do not disturb mode from 8:30pm and no weekend meetings unless entirely necessary. No more unpaid work. Often the work that is unpaid is the most important in our communities, but what good would I be to these causes if I’m running on empty? This was something I struggled with for weeks. I needed to know my worth. I needed others to know my worth. I needed validation, I needed acknowledgment. As we saw with the Clap for Hero’s, a round of applause doesn’t pay the bills and all the words of encouragement and appreciation start to feel empty when they’re not backed up with a cheque. I don’t do the work I do to turn a profit, but it wasn’t sustainable to give every part of me for not a lot in return. A huge turning point was creating a designated work area. I turned my front room into an office and moved my sofa and TV to my bedroom. This helped with my motivation. Once I leave my room its office or out. No more wasted days in bed avoiding work I didn’t want to do. Once my bedroom door shuts at night, no more work. It became a physical barrier between home and work. My bedroom is my home, my office is my work. I recently started teaching dance classes. I’ve always loved teaching and dance, and now I have another avenue of work that doesn’t feel like work. It helps to balance the work I don’t look forward to with some I do. I schedule boring meets right before a good class. Take a little of the bad and make it okay.

I let everything get to the point of overwhelming me and I completely shut off. I used this time to take a step back and put things into perspective. I had to remind myself that if I focused only on all the things I said I would do for others I would miss all the things I needed to do for myself. It’s okay to be “selfish”. Its okay to put yourself and your needs first. We need to have boundaries and safe spaces and escape. We need it for ourselves, and we need it for those that we know and help and teach and love. I don’t have a perfect solution; we all must find what works for us. Find your home at home. Find a way to separate. Find a way to sustain. We must not burn out.