Burnout and Languishing

As an Eneagram type 4, I can pretty much make meaning out of anything - hence the life lessons contained in this article.

But I can also be prone to rumination. And rumination was where I had been stuck for over a month, as I experienced burnout and deep languishing.

My job as a crisis worker (doing mental health evaluations for acutely mentally unwell people) was high-demand, taxing, and never-ending. And demand is only increasing, due to the pandemic, economic struggles, and the looming war being broadcast.

When I started my job as a crisis worker (pre-pandemic), I found meaning in what I did. I felt like I was making a contribution to society. The workload was manageable.

But with the increasing load as mental health professionals burned out and mental health needs increased, it was becoming common for me to work multiple 12 hour shifts, evaluating a never-ending stream of patients back-to-back, with barely a break for a meal.

It was also surprisingly common to see the same patients back in the ER repeatedly, with symptoms that didn't get better and often got worse, as the program of mental health care that we had to offer them wasn't truly meeting their needs.

I was over worked, under paid, and very much unseen for the work I was doing. It was the classic recipe for burnout. I started noticing all the telltale signs: cynicism, frustration, stress, lower tolerance for trivial challenges, lack of pleasure in things I used to love, not sleeping well, and always - always - a feeling of bone weary exhaustion.

I knew that something had to change.

So I cut back my hours at work in order to take care of my own mental health. I knew I couldn't keep giving from an empty cup. I hoped that symptoms would get better, with fewer shifts each week.

But what I found was that over several months, every time I would work a shift, I would be right back squarely in the midst of burnout, frustration, and depression again.

Until I found this podcast, (about burnout) and this podcast (about languishing). I highly recommend them.

After listening to them, I realized that being in a flow state, and working on mastering something was what I was craving to pull myself out of that "meh" and frustrated state of being.

My go-tos in the past to get to a flow state have been listening to podcasts, watching youtube tutorials, and reading self-help books.

But I had been trying those things, and they weren't working.

So this time I chose something radically different for me. I chose to learn how to play Beat Saber on the Oculus, because it would also give me the opportunity to connect with my teenage kids who were already loving it.

And it has helped immensely with the feelings of burnout and languishing. Thank goodness.

What I didn't expect was the deep learning that also came with mastering this game. Like I said, I can make meaning out of anything, but these experiences were profound for me, as embodied experiences, not just theoretical things I'd read in a book.

So, without further ado, life lessons I learned from Beat Saber. (If you're not familiar with the game, here's a sample.

1. Don't get stuck in the past.

I noticed - especially when I began to learn - that I would feel moments of frustration, shame, and embarassment when I would make a mistake. Old beliefs about perfectionism surfaced.

But if I got stuck in that emotion and let it steal my thoughts, I couldn't be present with what was coming next, and I'd make even more mistakes and poor moves.

The more we get stuck focusing on what has already happened, the less attention we have to give to and deal with what is present NOW. We can't change the past. We may feel shame, regret, frustration, or even nostalgia and longing for the past. But it's in the past. It can't be changed. Be. Here. Now. Give the present moment your full attention. Results will change.

2. Life keeps coming.

Even when I felt that the songs were too fast, or too complicated, my gut instinct was to want to complain that the game was too hard or too fast.

But that didn't change the game. Complaining never changes what IS. We usually have little control over the speed at which life comes to us. Or the complexities that may come our way.

But what we do have control over is the way we respond to it. We can complain. Or we can rise to meet the challenge.

3. Practice improves skill. Success breeds satisfaction.

When I was very new at the game, I would play with my teens who were much more experienced at the game. It was not uncommon for me to fail out in the first 20 seconds of a song, and be left watching in awe as they completed levels that made my head spin.

I could have made excuses that they were naturally gifted, a younger generation, genetically wired for it (as boys), or that I was a boomer and tech was just too hard.

But I chose to lean in to the discomfort and feel the failure of being a beginner, and continually work to master the game.

It wasn't long until I began to complete whole songs, then increase speed, then increase difficulty.

It's okay to be a beginner. It's okay to suck at things. If you persist, you will improve. And that sense of improvement brings a joy of satisfaction that we don't get any other way than by doing something that stretches us.

4. Be in flow.

Don't fight the experience. Be with what IS, don't resist it. If you can surrender to the rhythm of what IS, instead of complaining and wishing it was different, you can find a somewhat zen-like state, a flow with the rhythm of things. In video games. In relationships. In life.

The zen saying comes to mind: "Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water."

Do what you are doing. With all of you. Flow with the natural rhythm of what is.

5. Judgement / grades are subjective.

The scoring in beatsaber threw me for a loop at first. But that was largely because I didn't understand the criteria that were being used. Once I understood the rules of the game, things began to make more sense.

But even as I progressed, I noticed that sometimes the "letter grade" given didn't feel accurate based on the numerical score given. It didn't match past paradigms or beliefs I held about grades.

We're conditioned in today's society to attach certain values to grades, or certain judgements of our performance. But, honestly, at the end of some of those games, I felt an amazing sense of elation and joy due to the way I had performed. Sometimes, it was based on finishing the song. Sometimes it was based on the level of complexity.

But as I became present with the process of it, the score from the game meant nothing in comparison to the sense of accomplishment I felt in my body. Tune in. Trust your own evaluations of a situation. That sense of pride or satisfaction is something that no one can take from you.

6. There is value in moving your body.

I knew this from working with trauma clients. Moving stuck energy does more for healing trauma than talking ever will.

But states of depression and anxiety can often be benefitted too, by simply moving more and connecting with our bodies. Our bodies evolved to be much more active and engaged in meeting daily basic needs. Our current society has created a sense of ease that our ancestors never knew. And it can be oddly disconnecting for us as humans.

Tune in. Move your body. Even small movement can be the spark of larger momentum. Just start.

In the end, people argue about whether video games are good or bad, whether they cause problems, or are harmless. But I tend to think that they are like a lot of things. They are a tool, a vehicle to get to a certain outcome. And what a joy it is to be the driver of that vehicle.

This journey with video games had a surprising destination for me. I wonder what the next journey holds.

Let me know if this resonated for you. And if you loved it, consider leaving a tip or sharing with a friend. Thank you!