'I thought I could push through my burnout. Then at 24, I came unstuck.'

Listen to this story being read by Charlotte Begg, here.

We all have our good days and bad days. 

And generally, after experiencing a bad day, we might get a decent night’s sleep or do some exercise (or even both), and feel better the next morning.

A few months ago, I assumed that would be the case for me.

Stressed, tired and not exercising as much as I normally would, I felt flat. Really flat.

I assumed it would pass, but it didn’t. And that feeling went on for a week. 

No matter what I did - cook my favourite meals, watch my favourite shows - I'd be on the verge of bursting into tears (and the full-on, can't breathe kind of tears.)

One Saturday night, while I was curled up on the couch watching a movie, I felt numb. Tears rolled down my face, and I had no idea why.

After putting it off, hoping this "flat" feeling would still just go away, I called my doctor's office for an appointment to explain how I was feeling.

It got to the point where it was affecting my every day - I would either snap out of nowhere, or burst into tears.

During my appointment with my GP, I kept repeating to her, "I'm not myself. I can't stop crying or getting angry or feeling sad."

She asked me when the last time was that I took care of myself. I couldn't give her an answer.

***

I’ve always been very go, go, go.

I love being busy, having a packed schedule, and pushing myself with work. It’s when life’s chaotic that I feel the most driven, even if it makes me tired (that’s what coffee’s for, right?)

Earlier this year, after feeling down and stressed for a while but still being able to mask it and continue with this mentality, I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression.

It didn't come as a surprise - the last few years have definitely messed with my head, and the stress of that, combined with living in the city and working constantly, left me feeling overwhelmed and sometimes sad.

Having tried a psychologist before, I was open to going on medication, and after testing to see which ones would work the best with my body (yep, they can do that these days), we decided on an antidepressant.

It changed my life. Within a few weeks, I was back to my normal self and back to go, go, go.

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But it didn't last.

When everything was going well on my new medication, I had a very near-death experience.

I'm anaphylactic to peanuts, and one night when my boyfriend was out, I ate something that I didn't realise had nuts in it.

Long story short: he walked in at the knick of time and found me on the floor, nearly unconscious.

After calling 000 and literally saving my life with an EpiPen, we took an ambulance to Emergency and stayed there for hours. It was the most terrifying night of my life.

But I felt physically fine the next morning, so I went back to work.

Days later, I went on a short trip to Bali for a friend's birthday - I assumed the holiday would be good for me after all that. 

Instead, I distracted myself, flew into Sydney on an overnight flight and... went back to work.

Two weeks later, I burnt out.

***

After seeing my doctor and explaining my symptoms as well as the events of the past few weeks, she wasn't surprised.

She told me I most likely had PTSD from the peanut incident, which I hadn't processed, and my mind and body has taken a hit from my "always on" mentality.

She insisted I take time off work.

"Ok, I'll take tomorrow off," I said. To which she replied, "No, you need to take off at least a week."

Image: Supplied/Charlotte Begg.

Over the course of the pandemic, lots of articles popped up about the term 'burnout'.

It became a word we threw around. "I'm burnt out, are you?" We all felt it, in our own ways.

But I never really understood what it meant, or just how bad it could get if you don't address it.

Burnout is defined as a state of complete mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion. 

The symptoms include feeling drained of energy, becoming less professionally effective, feeling sadness and grief, and getting irritated, even angry, easily.

And if not acknowledged, these symptoms can lead to more serious health issues, career fallout and relationship breakdowns.

I stopped work for a week the same day as my doctor's appointment; and not by choice. 

My GP pointed out that if I didn't, I could end up needing months off. She explained I needed to take this time for self care.

"Go for walks, get coffee with a friend, take yourself shopping if that makes you happy," she said.

Unlike breaking a bone or getting a cold, there's something about knowing you're sick mentally, not physically, that comes with a truckload of guilt attached.

I was riddled with it.

What will my employer think?

Nevertheless, I had to do it - I walked a lot; I watched nostalgic TV; I got coffee with my mum.

After the week was up, I began feeling like myself again. My partner pointed out when I smiled, and I slowly started socialising again.

And work? I was honest with them about what I was going through and they were incredibly supportive.

There's a reason we have sick days, and like a broken bone, my head was a little buggered.

Burnout was only formally recognised by the World Health Organization in 2019. That was only three years ago.

But according to global research, approximately 50 per cent of employees and 53 per cent of managers are burnt out in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic.

I wasn't sure whether I'd put my story into words, let alone publish it. 

The only people who knew what was going on at the time were my family, manager and a handful of friends.

But knowing so many of us are experiencing the same debilitating exhaustion, whether on a small scale or large, I had to.

Notice when those bad days build up. Look out for the signs. Talk about them and address them.

The pandemic might seem like it's over (or at least things are back to "normal"), but these two years have f***ed with everyone's head. And there's no shame in admitting it.

Charlotte Begg is Mamamia's lifestyle writer. For more honest chats and recommendations, follow her on Instagram.

Feature image: Charlotte Begg.

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