Over the past few days, I’ve had trouble dragging myself out of bed in the morning. I wondered why my body feels like lead on most days or why my muscles seem to have so much inertia that it seems impossible to move them. And, yet, I do get out of bed, on time, ready to tackle my day and wrap up my chores, to meet every deadline, every need of the family, day after day, no matter what!
The truth is, my 16-hour day feels like a 60 hour one! Now, I’d go ahead with accepting that some days are going to be like this if it weren’t for my inability to meditate. Try as I might, I’ve had two consecutive days when my inability to breathe deeply irked me so much that I didn’t know what to do—the reason being, it’s the ONE thing that always sees me through the ups and downs of life. And then, the following day I picked up a book to read but couldn’t. I tried a picture book. No luck! The next morning I sucked at writing my Morning Pages and it was no surprise that I sat quietly, feeling blasé about life and writing and everything else that had been happening in general. I was left with a feeling as if a giant whale had swallowed me whole and I couldn’t find my old self anywhere.
So, it’s pretty scary to see how real and awful burnout is and how helpless you feel when it hits you. Exhaustion can be very intense if it stretches over a long period of time. It leaves you feeling like you’re capable of feeling absolutely NOTHING but frustrated and worthless, although you know you shouldn’t be. You actually are doing a lot, coping with insurmountable challenges and going on with the grind, putting your best foot forward, even when you feel like throwing it all away and walking off to a space that you call your own.
My question here is—how do you go on when, one fine day you wake up and find yourself at the bottom of a pit, trapped and struggling for release into the open, your arms and feet tied up, and your soul crying for help but unable to find any? How do you find the strength to shake off the fetters and keep fighting?
How does one deal with the days when nothing seems to bring any relief. Or to see the small joys of life slipping away from you. You even find yourself watching the drama of your life unfold before you, while you cease to have the power to rewrite the script that is playing on. You know it is unacceptable, but you feel utterly powerless. What do you do then?
As I look out of the window next to my writing table, from where I’m typing out my post, all I can see are grey clouds looming over the skyline, the edges of the skyscraper blurring into oblivion with the approaching mist.
I know that some days are going to be like this. My only hope—that such days don’t last long enough to wipe me out entirely…