apparently I'm so burnt out even my burnout is burnt out

A few weeks ago one of my friends called me after something bad happened. I'm not going to name the friend, even with the pseudonym I usually use or tell you what happened. But what happened was seen as both of us as a possible symptom of long-standing burnout.

I don't remember our whole conversation (it was early in the morning and I was already in my office, lame) but I do remember distinctly saying to my friend that we are not to be trusted to regulate ourselves and work. We can't trust ourselves to accurately gauge how much work we can really handle, nor can we trust ourselves to tell when we're burnt out. We vastly overestimate the former and sadly never see the latter until it's far too late. Both of us have a tendency, I think, to be cruising along actually thinking we're not that stressed until something almost downright hilarious in its awfulness happens. It is my working hypothesis that grad school interacted with our pre-existing vulnerabilities to completely burn out our ability to notice and manage stress.

This week I went to an award ceremony. Every time someone was called up to receive their award, the sponsor (for example a colleague) spoke for a few minutes about the accomplishments of that person. It was actually an inspiring, albeit intimidating, experience. There were so many people being recognized for doing so many amazing things. This definitely resulted in some imposter syndrome on my part, but that's not what this post is about.

Everyone was described as not only a fantastic researcher, colleague, team-member, and overall person, but as a dedicated and passionate instructor. And hearing everyone's tales of instructor amazing-ness gave me a bit of an out of body experience.

I realized, listening to them, that I used to be that instructor. I was passionate about teaching. I spent time on my courses consistently. I went above and beyond with my students. I was interested in the pedagogy of teaching and I was up to date on much of it. I used principles of learning in my courses (okay I still do that one).

I'm not that instructor anymore. I doubt I'm even that mentor anymore. Is that all my fault? No. I've been dealt some shitty hands here at PCU. And I know I can't be perfect across the board and I have actively tried to prioritize research over teaching, knowing that it is research that will get me tenure. Not teaching. Even worse however, is the fact that I hardly remember being that instructor. It's almost like thinking of a completely different individual. (And in a lot of ways, I was a different individual, that many years ago).

I could write about all the things that have led to this, but I'm frankly too exhausted. This odd experience, of listening to the descriptions of the instructor I'd like to be but can't, allowed me to connect with how incredibly burnt out I am. I am burnt out in my bones, in my soul. My brain doesn't work very clearly. I'm tired all of the time. I'm cynical, I'm bitter, I am angry. Some of it is accurate and some of it is not. I'd like a vacation but I can barely get myself to stop working 7 days a week out of stress and fear of losing my job.

So not only am I burnt out (if you look it up, you'll see a lot of those things describe it perfectly), I am... apathetic about my burnout. I didn't care. It was a weird disconnected "Huh. Look how burnt out I am. Interesting" experience - with no emotion whatsoever. I am so burnt out that I'm even burnt out of my burnout.

Am I completely flat? No. I'm finding lots of reward and happiness in some places. But I'm clearly not who I used to be when I left graduate school. And one of my biggest concerns has been related to the theme of whether or not the sacrifices I've made for my career have permanently made me a different person or if they are temporary - this is something I talk about constantly, and worry about constantly. I don't want to be a burnt out professor.

You might wonder - do my colleagues recognize this kind of burnout in Assistant Professors? Yes. It's openly known this happens. Do my senior colleagues have recommendations for this kind of burnout? Yes - one's first sabbatical. In Year 7. That's right... you're fully expected to hang in there for seven years of this and then expected to somehow recover on your sabbatical (while also accomplishing enough to justify your sabbatical and get ready for your next level of promotion). 7 years of this, then 1 year to recover. Take a step back and think about that, if you can - that's just a little bit fucked up.