Acknowledging Burnout and the Process of Being a Writer

You'll be no stranger to the fact that I am very hard on myself. It's not in a way that is intentionally malicious to myself, but I do enjoy doing a lot. There are so many things that I would like to do, that I would like to achieve, that I'm interested in. This automatically means that I end up doing a lot without acknowledging the fact that I am potentially doing too much at once — and that leads to an endless cycle of burnout. This cycle of burnout then leads to a cycle of feeling frustrated with myself when I get involved with a writing project and then suddenly feeling as though I have no energy to continue with it, and I subsequently don't know why I was interested in the first place.

To help you understand this further, I could start a project on a Wednesday, and by the Friday I can't remember what the product was about, or where my inspiration came from. I then get frustrated, because I would like to continue with the project, but I have no energy or grasp of where to start, or where I left off. I understand I'm not alone in this feeling, because it's part of the process of being a writer: balancing your time with what you enjoy writing, and the day job for many of us. If you are lucky enough to be able to write for a living, I get the impression that there can also be a sense of burnout from the fact that you are reliant on writing for your income — and if you don't write, then there is no money coming in. 

I appreciate that it's not always as black and white as that, but there is a certain pressure from the fact that you are reliant on your writing. Whereas if you have a day job, you're not reliant on the writing necessarily to make an income, but you are managing and balancing the two.

And that's not even acknowledging that life is very rarely just writing and everything else — there are so many different facets to everybody's lives, and every aspect of it takes even just a little bit of your emotional and mental capacity — which then can very quickly lead to burnout. The more little facets that a person has to their life, the more there are little pockets of energy that are gradually being sapped. Which is not necessarily a bad thing — because like I say, I enjoy doing lots of things, there are lots of things I would like to do — but then I also need to acknowledge the fact that I can't be working at a hundred percent capacity all of the time. I do need time to rest. I do need time for acknowledging the process of starting X,Y, and Z projects in the first place.

I have mentioned in previous blog posts that I struggle with starting projects and then getting to 10,000 or so words, only to be stuck and unsure where to go next. and then not knowing where to start. I feel it's because I’m picturing and pressurising myself to complete the whole project, rather than focusing on the fact that I want to write a novel, I want to write a book. However, I need to write this one step at a time, so that I can assess the one big project as a project of lots of tiny steps. In separating it into very tiny steps, you can almost disregard the fact that it is working towards a larger project. Doing that, generally speaking, I will then complete the tiny steps and then realise that I have completed a larger project.

I'm actually writing this blog post when I have a day of rest, and the urge to write and the inspiration has just come to me. It’s through this — the almost immediate cause and effect — that I have been shown that rest is a vital part of the process for me. 

As I've been saying, there are so many facets to everything that I want to do, and it can be very draining, because I put so much pressure on myself to be able to complete everything to the same exacting standard. But resting not only allows me to think about other things, allowing me to gather the energy and the creativity that I once had, but it also allows me to realize that I'm not losing my spark for writing, it is purely the fact that I'm putting so much pressure on myself for so many different things. Very easily leading to burnout.

What I'm telling myself as much as you is that resting is part of the process — meaning that I literally need to schedule it in, otherwise life will schedule it in for me. And, as the saying goes, that is usually at a very inconvenient time. Resting is still doing something, and I'm not really achieving something by forcing myself to continue without, because it becomes very difficult to achieve the level of mental energy to work. Ideally, I would work and write every day writing at least 1000 to 2000 words, because that is what I have capacity to do when I have less on my plate. So, in my mind, I just assume I can do that regardless of what else I am trying to achieve. 

As with everything, there are highs and lows. The largest word count I've been able to achieve in one day is 10,000 words, but then I felt burnt out for days after. It's an achievement in itself that I set about doing that challenge (well over a year ago now). Ironically, I still haven't posted the blog posts that I wrote as part of that challenge, because I don't have the energy to edit the more than 10,000 words — but that is then again a sign that I put too much pressure on myself to achieve something. I often burn myself out by getting excited or dedicated to something I can't detract from.

The feeling of comparison

There is also this feeling of comparison — mostly from seeing other writers who are just publishing their third fantasy series. My mind jumps to “why have I not achieved this yet; why do I not have such a body of work?” My mind makes the jump without considering the fact that I write in different genres, I have different goals, the fact that our lives are very different — and that is without considering everything else that goes into the writing process, and the fact that there is more to life than just writing itself (as sad as that may be). This cycle then makes me feel bad about my writing and forget what I have achieved. It is most definitely not to say that I ever feel that I’ll never write again, it is more the feeling that I could have — and should have — been doing better.

And then comes the feeling that I could be coding so much better if I could just be consistent. But what does “better” actually mean? What does that actually look like? Would I know if I ever achieve this constant state of “being better”?

Surely, the fact that I keep coming back to writing shows that it is truly what is in my heart, and what drives me. Even when I'm going through my phases of being less productive writing-wise, I'm always thinking about where I would like to take things, and where I could build upon older ideas — especially if these are ideas that I have previously felt too much. Surely, coming back to writing is a form of consistency?

There is an element of me that never rests, because I know that if I'm not writing then I'm not moving closer to building that large body of work, but then I also know that good work does not come without rest. The fact that I keep coming back, the fact that I keep trying speaks volumes for my dedication for writing. The fact that I haven't written consistently in the last few weeks is not an indication — necessarily — of my lack of dedication, it is more the fact that I keep trying. 

So, as ever, it leads me to the conclusion that I’m already doing everything that I can — which is a lot — and that I should be putting less pressure on myself. In these moments, I like to remind myself of the saying “it will be what it will be”. Meaning that, in the present, everything is happening as was meant — perhaps even the idea that we have infinite possibilities and yet the choice that we do make will be the one that was meant to be — even if it feels like the wrong one in the immediate term, there is the opportunity to make a decision that sends you in another direction.

I realise we have veered to the idea of free will, and that is not what this is supposed to be about, but it is reassuring that every decision is better than making no decision at all.

Goal setting 

I also get the impression that a lot of my burnout actually comes from the feeling of beating myself up. I have discussed the idea where I would like to write at least a thousand words every day. I also know that for most people that is a lofty goal in itself, and yet I find myself beating myself up that I haven't written anything in a few weeks.

For me, the type of goal setting that I do depends on what the goal is, and how much time that I have to do this. For example, completing a university assignment could look like knowing that I need to complete the assignment in two weeks, but in those two weeks, I need to plan, research, write, edit and reference the assignment. So, there are lots of steps to completion. Usually, I would plan to do X on Monday and then plan the next steps gradually and suitably within the timeframe. This might include leaving a few days to process between writing and editing — whilst simultaneously allowing myself the time to rest. So, goals are set in a sequence by the day, but the process is fluid in the way that this can be done — but the goal itself is more pacing myself so that things are done effectively and to a time limit. Think of it almost like a daily to-do list. On the other hand, a daily to-do list is more fixed in the sense that you “need” to get these things done today, so there can be a feeling of more structure, because I know what I'm doing after finishing something else. It also fits into the more fluid goal setting in the sense that I might add one or two things to said list that I would like to get done today, but they don't need to be done today. My take on goal setting might sound messy to you, but it works for me depending on the task; there may be some of you that really relate to what I'm saying.

There is too much power in the word burnout

There is also far too much strength in the phrase burnout, and I'm not saying that to get on my high horse and start gatekeeping when and how we should be using it. Nonetheless, it is an extremely useful word for describing such an abstract feeling that a lot of people — if not everyone — has felt to some degree. It seems to have made its way into the English lexicon, through the idea that people of all ages seem to be more open to exploring and discussing their emotions than they perhaps were before. And because burnout is being discussed more than it has been, there is an even larger discussion about how to prevent it. Whilst this is obviously great — because it is teaching people to be more self-aware — there is also this fear that arises. A bit like the idea that all anxiety has the tendency to be a bad thing — when actually it is protecting us. It is up to us to discern whether or not such a threat is necessary, and train ourselves to perceive threats in a way that is useful, rather than more so being debilitating (much easier said than done, I know).

The point being, that a similar principle applies to burnout. Yes, it is important to understand and acknowledge. Yes, it can be debilitating. But there is a part of me that thinks it can be extremely useful. It tells you when you are doing too much, and in what way. It is a tool that can be used — much in the way that anxiety is  a tool to be utilised. But it must be managed to be useful. And then if something like anxiety or burnout becomes useful, then there is less fear surrounding it. My saying this makes it sound as though the mindset is something that can be achieved overnight, but it is still something that I'm working through. There are still moments — such as the reason for writing this blog post — where I doubt myself and think about where these thoughts started from. Just something to think about. 

I've realised, during the course of writing this blog post that I'm acknowledging burnout. Every time I am surprised that it has happened to me yet again, despite thinking about it quite often. I don't know what that says about me, if not blindly faithful.