How to Be a Burnout

Who needs capacity anyway? The Wheel of Death. Louise Glück. New TSB Pod with Heather Havrilesky. New tunes for the doomed.

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Come on down. — AJD

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It was a strange week, very up and down, still on the downside as I begin this writing on Saturday at 5:38 p.m. California Coast time. The past couple of days, I've settled into the idea that I may have The Flu, the one that every person on earth is currently fighting through, but it hasn't risen to the level of anything beyond dry coughs and random gusts of exhaustion.

I have not slept well all week. I have not showered, eaten normal food, or moved particularly fast in three days. I even slept in my jeans last night. I spent the first half drifting in and out on the couch until 2 a.m. before I finally climbed into my seven-year-old's bed with him because he was convinced that someone was trying to break into the house. "You're safe," I said, patting him on the head like he was one of the dogs. I don't know if we were safe, but I wanted to be helpful.

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Since the end of the holidays, my work schedule has dramatically increased between freelance projects, podcasts, and everything happening with TSB as a company.  Oh, yeah – and the book. 

I had declared myself close to burnout at the end of last year, vowing to work less or at least more selectively and with more downtime locked in. I have not stopped nor slowed down, but I can sense a wall in front of me. I needed to ask for help, so I did. 

In the past few months, I've begun to have regular breakfast meetings at the House of Pies with a 12-step person for some fellowship, but I would say it’s more than that because much of the discussion is about the creative process and how to be a business person who does creative work. So it’s like a business coach infused with a heavy spiritual side. And friendship? Friendship, too.

Many of our discussions have me grappling with whether The Small Bow expansion plans and the ego-honking that is sometimes required to sell an outsized vision to people to get them to believe in me will undo some of my spiritual progress. 

Last Friday, we met, and I was very screwed up – shifty-eyed, bouncy, distracted. I came out right away with it. "I feel like I'm burning out and don't know what to do about it." When I laid out everything in front of me work-wise, he didn't see it as all that cratering. "This is what happens when you start a company – this is how it will be." He said that the "burnout" I'm feeling might mean that things are going well and that, no joke, I need to get used to the pace. "It's like when you're training for a half marathon. You can build the strength and stamina necessary to keep up." So, he disagreed that I was burning out.

However, he did say that the real danger zone is what he described as "tailspinning." Tailspinning, he said, is when your spiritual practice and self-care become replaced with work, and then all of it — work, family, recovery, basic hygiene — becomes insurmountable. This seems like a proper diagnosis for where I am at: a four-alarm spiritual malady, a wobbly tailspin. 

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There is more swirling around me. Some family death stuff, some family stress. And this was weird: a friend I hadn't spoken to or thought about in 30 years suddenly reached out, and we talked for an hour last Sunday as if no time had passed between us. It was very spooky, like a dream, or at least several dreams I've had in the past five years, where old friends return to comfort me to remind me that I am forgiven or welcome back home at any time.

So, is this flu, or is it Depression? I have no idea. It feels like I should choose one. Otherwise, I will end up resting when I should be moving or moving when I should be resting, which will throw me off another week. I'm gonna make a call right now and say Depression with a side of Tailspin so that will require me to move more but also be a real dick to anyone who dares to ask me, "Are you okay?" This is how it will be right now. Right now, though, I want to lie face-down on the floor and fall asleep until Tuesday.

For lunch yesterday, I ate three slices of Pizza Hut and four sparkly pink cupcakes my daughter made. It is now 1:34 a.m. I’m about to go watch “Succession” until I fall asleep on the couch. I will try not to wake up at 5 a.m. to see if anyone wrote me a nice email about this newsletter or upgraded to a paid subscription. Progress, not perfection.

— AJD

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