Reach Out for Help and Keep Reaching Until You Have the Help You Need

The following includes reflections on the limitations of support for educators that inspired me to record my experience. 

None of the things that led to my burnout will surprise colleagues in the education system, as we are all struggling with the same modern, post-pandemic, social media-intensified, globally influenced, struggling societies impacted, government-detest challenges that keep our classrooms and schools under constant siege. But I am choosing to share my experience because conversations about these challenges and the experience of burn out continue to be limited despite how damaging isolation can be to individuals in our profession. 

Family and friends tried to be helpful, but those in 9 to 5 jobs had difficulty understanding why I couldn't just hold clear boundaries about my time and energy. As educators know, time management while students are in the building is frequently about triaging rather than pacing yourself. Other people close to me were intensely worried about my welbeing and this came out in well-intended but misguided comments such as "you take on too much" and "why did/don't/won't you..." These judgement-tinged statements compounded my feelings that I was to blame for both my feelings and the situation I was in. So, I stopped talking about work and responded to questions with bland phrases such as "the usual busy." 

A colleague in a position of authority filled a hallway whiteboard, emails and other communication with phrases such as "You've got this!" Aimed at no particular person, I suspect the intent was most likely to inspire, but these messages felt inauthentic and tone-deaf to what I was feeling. However, I was very lucky to have two neighbouring colleagues at work who I could go to before or after school when I needed to talk something through. I will always be grateful for their compassion and support. But the guilt of constantly relying on them ate away at me, and as the burnout intensified and anxiety set in, I found myself having thoughts that they were only being nice and that I didn’t deserve their time or compassion. 

Online searches for other's experiences to help make sense of what I was going through seemed to bring up blog posts from people who had left the profession and pages about self-care suggestions such as deep breathing. If breathing deeply was the solution, I would have had my stress undercontrol within a weekend or two. Scrolling online trying to find anything that would help but feeling as if I was the only person struggling this much. 

I have always been an advocate for professional support, but I didn't fully realize how important it is to find someone with the right fit. The therapist who I had started seeing at the beginning of the school year repeated some of the same messaging I was getting from family and friends along with suggestions that were not do able. One such suggestion included going to the staffroom during my break to let out a good yell or cry. Letting out feelings ended up playing a big part in my recovery, but the method was not appropriate. So, I increased the length of time between sessions and started minimizing what was going on so I would have an excuse to end therapy with this person, "I'm doing better." 

The journey out of burnout has been long, and there are still occasional triggers that unexpectedly appear. But, I am in a place today where I can think about that time without crying, where within minutes of feeling anxious I reach out to my network, and where I am looking towards the first day of next school year with excitement. The following posts are about the process I went through, and it is my hope that expanding the conversation will help someone else who is feeling isolated and alone due to burn out.