The uncertainty of burnout recovery

(and how I'm dealing with it)

Burnout recovery looks different for everyone, it seems. How to address it and how long recovery takes are dependent on a whole host of unique factors. But one thing I believe many of us in burnout experience is the uncertainty of recovery. When will I get better? What does ‘better’ look like? How do I know when to start doing more again? When do I stop saying ‘I’m burned out’ and move forward?

These are questions that have been rumbling around in my head over the last couple of weeks. The fact I am even considering these questions signals to me that I am recovering because a while ago I couldn’t fathom ever feeling like I might get out. So that’s a positive. But, equally, these questions present an uncertainty that I find quite confronting.

It’s not like when you break a leg and the doctor eventually takes the cast off and tells you to go on living your life. There is no doctor ready to sign me off. I am navigating this on my own (well, not quite, thanks to you), in a world of uncertainty where there doesn’t seem to be a well sign-posted finishing line. As far as I can see, the uncertainty is made up of two parts:

1. I don’t know what ‘better’ is now that I understand how I was living my life before was wholly unsustainable and not the ‘real’ me; and

2. I don’t know if there will be a day where I wake up and happen to feel like I’m not burned out anymore, or if burnout will in some way be part of me for the rest of my life.

I can hazard a cautious guess at both of these uncertainties, but the optimist in me and the person who has spent so long learning how to push through and deny that there is anything ‘wrong’ (the high-achieving, people-pleasing, go-getter) still reins large and quite often subconsciously assumes everything will go back to ‘normal’ (pulling me in precisely the opposite direction of recovery).

I find myself feeling anxious, fearful, small, and vulnerable. So incredibly worried that I will fall back into old habits and overdo it, and equally concerned that I am isolating myself too much from the ‘real world’ for recovery-purposes. In a journal entry from 28 April 2023, I wrote:

“Lots of worried thoughts about ‘am I too tired?’ this morning. Feeling the pressure of reintegrating socialising and not knowing what the consequences will be.”

Last week, I decided to confront these questions by dipping a toe into the deep ocean of uncertainty. I went on a trip to the seaside to camp overnight with Andrew and Alfie. To put things into perspective, I haven’t been anywhere apart from on local dog walks for the past 4 months so this felt like a big deal. On the morning we left I was feeling okay, and decided that I had enough energy to give it a go. So we packed up a few things, hopped in our campervan and travelled about an hour to the South coast for a dog walk on the beach and to relax at a campsite with our books.

As it turned out, we had the best time. It was so refreshing to be by the sea; my favourite place to be. I wrote in my journal from the beach:

“Sitting on the blustery pebbled beach this morning, Alfie digging and chasing seaweed, Andrew sitting calmly beside me, the horizon feels expansive and time has ceased to factor in to my existence somehow. The salty smell of the sea feels like a spring clean for my senses and the cool breeze is a welcome change to the stagnant air of London. Little dots on the horizon start to move more quickly as a woman and her two dogs come into focus, straddling the shoreline, the small angry waves lapping at their feet and paws. Alfie stops to stare, tail pointed, considering tearing across the shingle to say hello to friends of his. All I hear is the rustle of the wind in my ears and the distant hum of the ocean; peace.”

Snapshots of our trip.

This trip helped me to see that, as with many things in life, whilst there may not be an obvious ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ or ‘start’ or ‘finish’ there is always an opportunity to experiment (if I want to). Going to the beach was an experiment that allowed me to test out different and new parameters for my recovery journey. It helped me to see that I can navigate the uncertainty of my current situation by reminding myself:

It’s okay to experiment (and get it wrong)

Just as there is no-one signing me off from burnout recovery, there is no-one telling me I am doing it wrong either. I can practice being okay with experimenting, and sometimes getting it wrong. I experimented with going to the beach and camping for the night, and it paid off. But subsequent experiments have not gone so well and I’ve either had to cancel or leave part way through or deal with a few days of worse symptoms. It’s hard to accept that I cannot control how I will respond to doing things now, but the only way I can get to know my limits is by slowly and gently experimenting; getting it wrong is part of it.

Recovery is non-linear

Some days I can experiment, some days I can’t. Some days I feel okay, some days I feel awful. Some days I want to think about the future, some days I want only the comfort of what I know I can do. These days interchange without notice and are completely unpredictable. Experimenting with unpredictable participants is challenging, but accepting this is part of the journey.

Always question why

When I feel a surge of optimism or a surge of pessimism that is far from a diplomatic middle in terms of what I can or can’t do, I question why I feel that way. Is it because I genuinely am excited to experiment with doing this new thing again, like going to the beach? Or is it because I have started listening to my inner ableist dialogue without realising? Am I trying because I intrinsically feel it’s the right thing for me, or am I trying because I’m sick of being the one that has to say no? Because I’m scared of letting other people down? Because I’m scared of losing people? I am learning to always question why, and factor the answer into the experiment.

Turning around is an option

Given recovery is non-linear and unpredictable, it’s okay to experiment with integrating something new into my recovery journey and subsequently decide it was too much too soon. In the same way as I should not feel pressured to push myself to experiment if I don’t want to, I should not feel pressured to carry on experimenting if it’s not serving me. Turning around is an option, which is somewhat of a relief to acknowledge.

What about you? Do you find the uncertainty of recovery challenging? How is the journey going for you?

P.s. I made a little vlog of our trip if you’d like to watch it: