I’m Burning Out: Insights as I Approach Disaster
Proverbs 22:3 “The prudent sees danger and hides himself, but the simple go on and suffer for it.
As a pastor and counselor, I’ve had conversations with numerous individuals on the verge of burnout, as well as those who’d already begun to experience the effects of being burnt out. I’ve written about the subject in “The Revived Heart” and have studied it relentlessly in Scripture. I’ve wrestled in the past and (I feel) successfully addressed the dangers of burnout in my own life. However, the challenge has risen again. This time I find myself speeding, uncontrollably toward burnout, unable to apply the brakes, so to speak. At this moment, I am leading a new church plant, I’m trying my hardest to grow this ministry, work on my physical health, be a good husband, raise five children, provide short-term counseling when I’m able, and finish work on several books. The weight of responsibility I feel is having serious effects on my overall health. As I try to balance everything, it seems nothing is helping, and I feel unable to counsel my own soul. That’s right, the counselor is unable to counsel himself. It is a bit disconcerted, if I’m being honest. Yet instead of panicking over my impeding doom, I figured, as I careen toward disaster, why not settle my soul and make some useful observations. Maybe some poor reader would find them useful. Are you that poor soul? I hope so…sorry.
I don’t want to throw you through a loop by mixing metaphors but, in some sense, I view myself as an explorer of a dangerous unexplored (emotionally unstable) land, sending back my observations for the benefit of the rest of society. My message is this; if you ever find yourself on the verge of burnout here are something’s I think would be helpful for you to keep in mind. In no particular order here they are…
Recognize that you are indeed alone. The toughest thing that I’ve had to realized as I head toward burnout is that I’m alone. I know that sounds horrible and I can hear you screaming “But Ryan, you are not alone!” To which I am replying preemptively, “Am I not though!?” Now, to be fair, I’m not implying that God is not with me or that God won’t be with you as you wrestle with exhaustion. I do believe he is. Neither am I saying that there aren’t people in my life who care deeply about me. What I am saying is that there’s a difference between “first-hand” and “second-hand” experiences. I am the one experiencing MY present struggle “first-hand” and there’s something unique about that experience.
When watching someone we care about go through difficultly we indirectly experience some sense of suffering. This is healthy empathy and should be present in gospel community. Yet, there’s a difference between watching a rollercoaster fly around the track while standing next to the stroller, holding the bags, and being on the ride yourself, feeling your stomach drop and having your heart pound in your throat.
When I say that you are alone, I mean that you are the one on the ride, so to speak. Presently, my life is speeding toward disaster. The demand of everything is weighing on me and I’m not foolish enough to deny that it is having negative effects. Yet, my personal sense of being overwhelmed can not be shared with others. As much as others may care, they do not live with the very real sense of dread, not to mention the increasingly noticeable effects on my health. I sleep with my realities and wake too early with them on my heart.
Why do I think this is important to recognize? We’ll, I’ve learned the more I expect others to react to what I alone am experiencing the more disillusioned I become. I would like to spear you that feeling of disillusionment.
On a positive note, recognizing that others may care but are not “on the ride” with me has helped me in these ways;
I have so much more peace as I’ve taken ownership over my experience. Others are not going to feel the pressure to “figure it out” or live under the weight of resolving it and I no longer expect them to.
I am more grace-filled toward other people’s priorities. I no longer expect them to drop everything and come to my aid. I recognize that they too have things going on in their lives regarding which i am unable to sense the urgency of. Everyone has their own “rollercoaster” experience happening.
It changed the way I talk with others. When I’m invited to share what I’m going through, I do so honestly. I do enjoy some relationship in which close friends give me space to express what I’m going through and they wrestle with me in finding solution. When that happens I share. If not, I don’t. in essence taking ownership in this way has freed me from constant pursuit of sympathetic ears.
For me, recognizing the uniqueness of my experience has been incredibly freeing.
Everything feels important but it’s not. Boy this is a big one. The battle of competing priorities is vicious. Everything feels like the one thing I need to focus on. Daily I ask, should i put my health first? Should it be my relationship with my wife? Should it be my kids? The ministry God has given me? Where do i invest my time? Each of these, at times, feel like the most important. Now, before you try to counsel me, don’t miss my point, which is this: when you and I are experiencing exhaustion everything can begin to feel important and priorities become indistinguishable. There’s almost a sense that I’m trying to figure of which lever to pull in order to gain control. Should I slow everything down and focus on my health. Should I focus on my relationship with my wife sense conflict with my her can feel extremely disorienting? Most days I end up just trying to do it all, just treading water. Predictably, this results in not doing anything well.
Expectations are not adjusted. This observation draws a little from both my previous points. The more exhausted I become, it becomes difficult to discern priorities mainly because expectations are not graded on a curve. I’m finding that areas of responsibility and people in my life do not adjust their expectations of me according to my sense of burn out. This isn’t a criticism, it just is. Surely you have recognized this obvious reality, right? Your job doesn’t stop expecting you to show up, bills still need to be paid, children still need cared for, wife needs attention, people still need counseling. And my thought everyday is “I can’t drop the ball.” I was recently reflecting on the fact that I feel unable to take a vacation or to step away from work because of this lingering desire to meet expectations.
I want to say something helpful. As I sit on this runaway train (in case you needed another metaphor), what am I finding helpful? Whelp, I find it helpful to not feel alone, and I personally find that I feel less alone when I have opportunity to share with a friend who doesn’t forget my struggle the moment the conversation ends. You know what I’m talking about. That friend that ask how you’re doing, you tell them that your world is falling apart, and they say something like “Oh, that’s crazy!” then immediately starts talk about something else. (I’m laughing as i write this). The next time you talk to them, it’s like the hard drive has been rebooted or like starting a new chat with A.I. They ask the same question, and provide the same insufferably apathetic response to your circumstance.
Having a friend who walks with you through seasons of life is incredibly valuable. I know that this season will past and one day I’ll look back on this and laugh, but I’m learning to value the people who are willing to lean in, so to speak, and to go through the hard stuff with you - as best they can.
So, do that. If you find yourself overwhelmed, seek someone willing to walk with you. Don’t expect them to save you from your present trial, I’m not sure friends can do that. Here in this jungle of emotional exhaustion, not being isolated has been the water in my canteen. It hasn’t changed anything but i do see that it’s given me strength to keep going. Strategies have fallen short. Tips and tricks haven’t freed me from the tremendous weight of responsibility. Only the present of faithful friends who remember me in the battle, like Uriah who refused to enjoy the privileges of home life while his brother were at war - they keep me in mind, they find ways to invite themselves into my suffering, and they remind me that this too shall pass.
