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Suffering From a Little Bit of Burnout

Please don’t take this as any cry for pity – I don’t need it, nor do I want it. I just needed to get this out and off my chest. It’s been bottled up inside for far too long.

I have lost my way. Love. Loss. Heartache. Desire. Wants. Wishes. I absorb it all. Years of caring for everyone else and pushing my needs to the back burner has caused me to lose motivation and desire. Not in a suicidal or manic way but an overall general feeling. I am running on automatic most days. It as if each day simply runs into the next without any break in between – no start – no finish – just a few comatose hours between bullshit.

Most days I don’t even want to leave my bed, let alone my room. If I could get away with living as a hermit for a few days I would – but I can’t. There’s never a day without having to cater to anothers needs or appointment or fill in the blank with any number of things. Because of the attention I give to others my to-do list has grown and grown without ever seeming to reduce at all. I have projects in the pipeline that have been pushed back for over 2 years because I feel so scatterbrained from all the responsibility I hold for everyone else. It’s as if I’m on straight auto-pilot.

As a creative individual, I need my thoughts. When my head is so jumbled because of stressors – many not my own even – which is the real kicker – I can’t catch my train of thought. Imagine starting over each new day at your current job as if it were your first day with nothing learned, gained, etc. Fresh beginnings aren’t always good. When momentum gets lost, it’s very tough to get going again. It’s as of my wheels are spinning in the mud never seeming to go anywhere.

I know I am going forward and I know I am making strides but nowhere near the pace, I expected to. I have to hit pause on the path more than I can try to explain.

On any given day, I throw a smile on – but inside I have snapped. People irritate the shit out of me. I have prided myself on the art of disguise. If I acted out how I felt day to day I’d be considered a huge fucking asshole – who knows I may be considered that anyway. But I don’t honestly care – that’s one thing that has never changed. I am me. Ride or die with me, there’s always a seat available and if not I will always make room.

Published inJay LongWriter's Life

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