Teaching to the Point of Burnout

Burnout Is Real, and It's Not Your Fault

Ever felt overwhelmed to the point of emotional collapse?  Like you can't possibly keep up?  As if all the responsibilities are closing in and there's no conceivable way to get everything done?  As if there's no room in life to experience any single moment of joy?

That's burnout.  It's real, it happens, and there's no reaon to feel bad about the fact that you're burned out.  The burnout itself already leaves you feeling like crap — you shouldn't feel guilty simply because life has careened beyond your control.

Burnout is incideous, especially for teachers.  You start out feeling motivated, but then the stressors pile up.  You might have ambitious aims to help your students — sometimes unrealistic aims — and then you find yourself falling short.  Imposter syndrome worsens this.  As you work harder and harder and even harder to "do enough," you can fall into the mental trap of believing that you aren't enough.  And yes, it is a trap.  You are enough.  You have the skills.  But sometimes, the mountain is too high for anyone to reach the top.  And just because you see others reaching the top, that doesn't mean today needs to be your day.

Let me be blunt and a bit disturbing.  There's this mountain called Everest.  It's very tall, very popular — and also very deadly.  Many who attempt that climb never make it to the top.  Many are forced to turn around midway due to the cold, the storms, or physical exhaustion.  Of those who keep pushing forward, many reach the top — and there are some who never make it back down.  They literally climb to their own deaths.

Burnout can be like this, especially if you catch yourself striving to be everything to everyone.  As a teacher, you will be pulled in so many different directions by so many different students and administrators and colleagues.  And if you're the kind of person who chooses teaching, it's very likely that you also enjoy helping other.  And maybe you feel a bit guilty if you see someone who you could help.  Or maybe you feel that you should help everyone.  But that's an impossible standard.

You Can't Always Prevent Burnout

Theoretically, good boundaries and realistic expectations of ourselves should prevent burnout.  If we said no to all the projects that might overwhelm us, and then said yes to all the emotionally habits that sustain us, we could theoretically be healthy, happy, and infinitely productive.  But we don't always know our own limits until after we've exceeded them.  And other times, life hits us with the impossible: the death of a parent, a few days in the hospital, an illness in the family.  Or your car breaks down.  Or your employer demands unreasonable expectations of your time and effort — expectations that you follow because you still need to pay rent and feed your family.

When burnout sets in, it can worsen any preexisting feelings of imposter syndrome.  If you already feel like you aren't doing enough, then it gets even worse when there's too much for any human being to accomplish.  And then those feelings of inadequacy can cloud a person's judgment — and this is especially true if the burnout degrades your mental health.  For some, burnout may lead to reduced energy — even to the point of triggering depression or possibly suicidal thoughts.  For others, it may appear to increase energy levels by causing mania or worsening attention deficits.  And then for others, the stress can exacerbate social anxiety or overwhelm symptoms from the autism spectrum to the point that leaving the house becomes physically painful.  If the world feels overwhelming and you imagine yourself as inadequate, you might imagine every social interaction as another case of someone judging you for not being "enough."

Ideas to Prevent Burnout

If you can, avoid burnout early.  It's important to take breaks.  It's important to put some emotional distance between yourself and your teaching.  Watching a good movie, enjoying a night out with friends, sleeping in on you day off — whatever helps you forget your teaching for a bit, take the time to do it.

Remember: You Are the Expert of You

Sure, you'll get advice to "follow wellness guidelines" or other kinds of "best practices" for stress, but some advice simply won't work for you.  I've found that long walks help me decompress, but what if it's too cold to go outside?  Others enjoy running or meditation.  Well, I can't run — not with those three fused vertebrae in my neck.  Some will say to cut back on caffeine, and I've had to do that to avoid cardiac arrhythmia — but back in the day, those cups of coffee gave me the energy to plow through grading.  I find that getting enough sleep really, really helps, but don't feel guilty if there are nights when that simply isn't possible.  When my child was an infant, his mom and I took turns with the midnight feedings and diaper changes — as a parent, there's no way I was gonna shirk my responsibilities.  So I didn't even try getting enough sleep.  But I did watch more movies at 3 a.m.  Sometimes with my sleeping infant nestled in the crook of my elbow.

So yes, I have some suggestions.  They won't all work for you.  I want to emphasize: I am not the expert of you.  I'm just a fellow teacher with ideas.  I hope some of them help.

Sleep Clears Your Brain

Literally — when we sleep, our neurons shrink and our vascular system swells to help clear out some of the toxins that build up during the day.  Our brains are very, very complex — they also use up a lot of our metabolic energy, and our bodies do a lot to protect those precious pounds of gray matter.  And sleep is basically the daily oil change for your neurons.  Sure, you can regularly drive your car a couple thousand miles past the suggested oil change — but do it often enough, and your engine will not last as long.

Now, what happens if you can't get enough sleep?  First, your memory can slip.  And how do I know this?  Because I've had phases of my life where I was denied sleep for too long, and it led to times when I actually blacked out.  Sometimes while driving, sometimes while teaching, and others times while writing.  This isn't like falling asleep at the wheel — and I've had that happen, too.  Instead, it's like getting in your car, and then you wake up at your destination, and you have no idea how you got there.  Or you wake up about halfway to the wrong destination.

This is particularly fun when your teaching.  I've had some semesters were I simply couldn't remember my students.  Their names simply didn't exist in my head.  Even now, I often need seating charts the first half of the semester — and that's after I spend two days a week day rotating to each individual student, getting their name again, and talking with them about their individual writing goals.

But it used to be worse.  There was a time in my life when I couldn't recall what I taught.  I didn't actually know what I'd already told my students.  I couldn't remember what week we were on or which units we were doing or which assignments I'd assigned.  If not for my syllabus and mapped-out lesson plans, there's no way I could have made it through the semester.

But want to know what was really fun?  Writing my dissertation with no short-term memory.  Literally the day after my divorce was finalized, I switched my energies to writing the 287 pages that earned my a doctorate.  I set myself a very reasonable goal: every day, I would write a few pages.  Whatever amount I could get through.  This went on for six weeks, and I made no progress.  Every day, I woke up hating myself for having written nothing the day before.  Sure, I had a new document for each day, but nothing worth remembering.  Until, of course — in a final act of desperation — I copied all those separate pages into a single Google Doc.  And then discovered 150 pages of text that I had no recollection of having ever written.  I had so many pages that my Chromebook couldn't handle it — I had to move those pages to a Word Document on an actual laptop just to work with the text.  And tell me, how do you edit 150 pages when you have no idea what you wrote, let alone what order those sections should go in?

Now, how do I know my memory problems were caused by sleep deprivation?  Because I had to go to the doctor about it.  Multiple doctors.  They tested me for seizures, brain tumors, and sleep apnea.  One by one, all the possible physical causes were ruled out.  The neurologist was almost apologetic.  With my contrast-dye MRI onscreen and the EEG squiggles all in neat little rows, the physician actually looked sad because he couldn't actually help me.  But he did recommend I get more sleep.  And try meditation.  And maybe find a therapist.

Seriously — you know sleep is important when even the damn neurologist recommends meditation because he thinks you're just that stressed out.

Beware of Toxic Positivity: When People Expect You to Share Their Happiness

Yes, there are well-meaning people who will give you amazing advice that's simply impossible.  "Get a gym membership!" some will say to the adjunct who doesn't have money to spend their monthly phone bill on room filled with exercise equipment they'll never have time to use.  Same with yoga, meditation, massages, and therapy — all of those are great, and all of them require time and money you might not have.  And then you'll feel guilty for not trying them.  And those toxic expectations can make you feel even worse about stressors far beyond your control.

Beware of Hostile Positivity: When Others Use Your Feelings Against You

Advice is easier that support, and some people will offer advice with the assumption that if you don't follow their advice then your feelings are your fault.  This is especially dangerous when it's family members, romantic partners, or supervisors who exhibit attitudes like this.  "You'd feel more connected if you came to the department barbecue we have every Saturday" can very easily turn into "We'd like to see you cultivate stronger relationships with your colleagues" on your annual report.  (And people wonder why there are so few divorced single parents among the ranks of tenured professors.)

Deluded Positivity: When People Refuse to Accept How Bad Things Are