Gap Year(s)

Expectation versus Reality of a Burnout Break

Photo by Volodymyr Hryshchenko on Unsplash

I used to think that a year was enough time to rejuvenate yourself. I imagined that if I had a year’s sabbatical from work, I could focus on being a “better” version of myself. A thinner, stronger, more well-read and overall happier version of the person that I had become. In a distorted way, I got that gap year that I had daydreamed of not so long ago but it didn’t work out the way that I had imagined.

The domino effect of changing my life happened after, what I now know was a total career and emotional burnout. I had conned myself into believing that, while there was a lot of activity happening in my personal life, that I could tackle any task at work with little damage to my mental health. Spoiler alert: I was wrong.

I was working full time but had set more boundaries on my time at work, which was a big step for me as I had always been the go-to person for projects, no matter the time commitment. I got things done! I was mentoring and training within my group remotely and feeling like I was contributing positively. On the home front, I had recently moved back to the city where my parents lived and was helping out while my mom cared for an ailing family member. I was being the good daughter that I had convinced myself that I needed to be. I wanted to be ‘useful’ and help where needed. That is who I have always been. And though therapy had made me aware that love does not have to be earned, those patterns are hard to break. And as much as I felt I was breaking them, I was just exchanging one for another.

It finally came to a head when I realized that in over a month, I hadn’t gone a single day without an unexpected crying session. That was not how I wanted to live. So I changed it. Maybe not in the smartest way but in the available way. I took a medical leave from work, started going to therapy (again) and tried to figure out what I wanted my future to look like. And again - I piled too much on my plate at one time. See the pattern?

That medical leave stretched from weeks to months and finally I submitted my resignation. It felt great! I had some money in savings and had no intention of being out of work for longer than a couple of months so it was all good in my head. But a little over a year later, here I sit, still waiting for the future that I was convinced I was giving myself time to create. And while I no longer have to have a daily cry, I still don’t have a clear vision of what I actually want for my life. I am working to make ends meet at jobs used to be side hustles and exploring independent projects that explore my dormant creative goals.

I, like many others, grow up with an expectation of having to figure out our lives and have a plan for every step of it. From childhood questions of what you want to be when you grow up to interview questions about where you see yourself in 5 years. We are always looking ahead. The quick-fix mentality of our world also feeds into the idea that if you want something, you figure out how to get it… NOW! Yet, we don’t give ourselves the grace to sit in the present situations of our lives and either really enjoy the moments that we are living or work out what isn’t working for us.

Unintentionally, I am forcing myself to acknowledge that my “plan” is not going according to the timeline in my head but according to a timeline of healing. At times, it almost feels like emerging from a cave and seeing the sun. I am learning to live in the moments of my life instead of trying to zoom ahead and in that, seeing the world around me clearly. The extended time with family and living without a schedule (for the most part) are new experiences for me that I enjoy. Not having a steady paycheck and access to discretionary income are also new and not so enjoyable but I am luckier than many and I am grateful to a new depth.

A little over a year later from my last day at a full-time corporate job and I am not yet where I thought I would be. The world outside of my self-centered life is scarier and crazier than ever and in letting myself feel all the anxiety that comes with that I am working to understand that I am a small part of a big picture of humanity. How can I help? What do I have to offer? This puts my personal life in perspective. My focus has shifted from where I want to be to where I need to be.

The thinner, stronger, more well-read and overall happier version hasn’t materialized but in her place is a woman who is increasingly more self-compassionate, learning to be patient and appreciative of life she is living day to day. Maybe she is the ‘better’ version that I wished for, just not in the package I was expecting. And that has to be ok for now.