Burnout

Just after the first of the year, a man from my high school class shared this article from Buzzfeed News.  It’s a beast of an article on millennial burnout  (Which is somewhat ironic as millennials are thought to have short attention spans…); but, it gained a bit of traction on the inter-webs through the month of January. 

Like I said, it’s a beast of an article and much of isn’t new news or things you have not heard before if you have ever read anything about generations and Millennials, in particular.  But, still, it made me think.  

First off, it was nice to read an article that didn’t claim all millennials are lazy and entitled for a change. Adam and I have often grappled with this idea. Wondering where it comes from as we both work full time jobs and have had side hustles, grow our own food, volunteer on boards and more for years.

However, I didn’t love the idea of errand paralysis. I too had a moment like the author of, “Really? You can’t make a trip to the post office?”

The idea of paralysis associated with tasks like this seemed extreme to me.  Paralysis conjures up the thought of being scared to do something or just completely unable.  And, with this idea, it makes it seem like millennials are afraid of going to the post office and reverts to the overused idea that we are so in technology and just physically cannot do things that require banal communication.

It’s not fear or inability.  It’s just kind of a pain because there is so much else to do.  

(Full disclosure: As I write this, I have a skirt that I sold on Poshmark three days ago on the front seat of my car that needs to get to the post office…)

Because of this, the idea of the “To Do List of Shame” spoke to me.  After years of not seeing myself in Millennial articles and even getting angry from some the claims, this gave me a “Huh. So that’s what that is called…” moment for something front and center in my life.

The idea of rolling tasks over day after day.  Week after week.  All too real.  

After a little reflection, I recognized that the To Do List of Shame is actually what finally made me call in my notice last fall.  

The travel was hard.  Mom Guilt was running me.  I stopped caring about my body, feeding it big lunches, chocolate and lattes in the name of “self-care.” Fears of stepping into Adam’s busy season with the demands on me only increasing scared me.  All the while, I was actively disengaging and bored by my role.  I also was fighting the desire to follow a call to step out on my own.  So, life wasn’t perfect.  Based on many definitions, I was burnt out.  

But, I stuck around until I received an email with a new task.  A simple task.  We were asked to send in an email every Monday morning recapping our actions for the week prior and then our plan for the next week.  

This isn’t that weird of a task to be asked of by an employer.  And, it’s not that it would really be that hard to complete… But, at the same time, it would be.

I couldn’t imagine, week after week, seeing all the things I didn’t do.  Didn’t complete.  Things that would carry over for weeks.  

I already felt like like I was failing at twelve things at once- in and out of the office- and I would have to remind myself of that every Monday.  As if I didn’t already know.  Not to mention, being a deliverable, my To Do List of Shame would also be judged. What about those things things I managed to accomplish?  Would it ever be enough?

There is a lot of talk of “Being Enough” these days.  Think: “You are enough!” “You are worthy of love!  Of good things!” Blah, blah, blah. 

For me, this isn’t a concern in a God sense or a love sense.  I believe both Adam and my creator feel that I am enough just the way I am.  I have that self awareness and faith.  However, when it’s the conversation of being enough… for me?  That’s another story.  

I grew up an achiever and I am still one.  I am not (too) embarrassed to admit that at the root of my achieving is a bit of striving for approval.  I enjoy receiving praise, particularly praise about my performance.  

But, there is also something internal at play.  I have really high expectations for myself and know I am capable of a lot.  More than the average bear, if I am being totally honest.  I like pushing myself and being challenged… and I really like coming out the other side victorious.

This is beginning to sound like something that flirts with perfectionism.

But, I am not a perfectionist.

I have been well aware of this for years.  This blog, our business, my kitchen floors and my total lack of care in going out without makeup are living proof of this.  

Perfectionism is not the same as achievement.  Perfectionism is not the same as striving for those achievements.  It’s even different that striving for excellence in those achievements.  

But, what perfectionism is, is subjective.  It’s different for everyone and based on their own perceptions of perfect.

Okay.  So, what are my perceptions of me?

My highest achieving, thriving, rockstar self?  Sure, the floors are not great and I haven’t got a clue how to contour but, what about the “me” I am striving to be everyday through my goals and to do’s?  

Perfection is subjective. And while it’s not the world’s “perfect,” it’s… mine.  Gulp.  

I am currently trudging through Bene Brown’s “Dare to Lead” for a book club.  I say trudging, because… While I like Brene.  A lot.  I have for a while.  And, maybe because I am listening to it versus reading. (Sorry bookclub, my secret’s out…) But, dang. It’s a lot of research. 

So, while I am not totally loving every moment, there are plenty of really great points and things to think about. 

One of those nuggets: “Where ever perfectionism is driving us, shame is riding shot gun.”

Mom guilt drove me to a point of, “Well, if I am not with my babies, I better be the best I can be here.”  And, when I am home, I better be the best I can be there.  

The problem with my expectations for “the best I can be?”  They are impossibly high.

Maybe they are so high because my dad had an amazing career. He provided more than our family could have imagined needing and coached us though calling and purpose to set us up for “success.”  Then, this is coupled with the fact that my mom was a remarkable mom.  She was there if you needed her to bring forgotten homework and to volunteer to host the field hockey team for dinner.  She made our home beautiful and prepared great meals every night. 

In my expectations, goals, and “to do’s,” I do both.  I work like my dad and mother like my mother.  

All the while, I am a Millennial, who has been taught to believe that busyness is good and “I am what I achieve and how I achieve it” thanks to an upbringing in the 90’s and early 2000’s that was big on activity and praise.

Last summer, it is very clear to see that I was at burnout’s front door and it was fueled by shame.  I was exhausted and unhappy and always wondering why.  I was not mindful about anything from the food I ate to the tone I set for my day.  I was running, not, like, on a treadmill for exercise; but, instead from one impossibility to another and only to feel like I was failing all the time.  

I was striving for achievement and approval, not just from my bosses, my peers and parents; but, from me.  

And, when you do this, things like cuddling with your toddler watching Cars for the 400th time, making out with your husband, going on a run or even to the post office can seem like a waste of valuable time.

But, then I got that email in September.  

I imagined fitting the task into Sunday nights or Monday mornings in order to deliver it by the deadline each week.  

Sunday nights:  Dinner, bath time, folding laundry, picking up.  

Monday morning: Lots of coffee because Theo didn’t sleep.  Breakfast.  Dressing kids.  Packing backpacks.  Multiple trips to the car.

Breakfast and dinner stuck out.  Food is a tenant in my life and at my core, I want to feed my children out of love and care, not out of desperation and hustle.  As a check on my to do list.  Same goes for Adam too.  Anyone really.  

I want to really cook for them.  I want meals with connection.  I want to sit at the able and talk.  I want to sing along to Taylor Swift at breakfast with my toddler.

This is what I want more than all the high approval or major achievements I can imagine.  And, what I am coming to learn, that approval and achievements are things, and like tangible things, like cars and clothes… there will always be more and, in a way, never enough.  But, this way of living?  This is want I want more.  This is enough.    

And, there is there is no shame in that.

This is hard to see when we are so conditioned to get there and then move on to the next thing.  Ya’ll are looking at about six months of work here.

So, now- in real time- my focus is on healthy striving.

Setting real goals.  Recognizing my parents were two different people… who were far from perfect.  That praise is fleeting.  So are moments.  

So, maybe I need to do the celebrating over the little accomplishments… even it is just getting to the post office.

Photo by Cassie Dunmyer Photography