Burnout -- How a Desert Lizard Restored My Faith: Burnout to Bliss

BURNOUT

How a Desert Lizard Restored My Faith

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By Pam Young

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Book 1 in the Burnout to Bliss Series

Copyright © Pamela R. Young. 2016

All rights reserved.

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Printed in the United States of America

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Cover designed by Nathaniel Dasco

For Judy

Acknowledgements

After three books, I’m finally beginning to understand what this page is about, and I am feeling overwhelmed, especially with this one. How does one acknowledge everyone who contributed to the story that happened so long ago? May I simply say Thank you, every single one of you, who participated in the drama that was my life at that time? Thanks go out to all of you, but especially my nemesis, who helped launch me onto a wider path to become a better version of myself? 

Once the working draft was completed, I gave it to trusted beta readers, women selected because I believed they were strong enough to speak their truth on the definitive question, Is this story worth publishing? Each, in her way, provided the feedback required for me to continue what was the most difficult writing I’d ever done, including a Ph.D. dissertation.   

Thank you, Trish Simonton, my friend since last year when, as a relative stranger, you stepped up to make a medical trip with me that would take you away from your job for four days. Thank you for being my friend, for letting me talk and for listening to me. Thank you for cheerfully agreeing to read my words, and for taking the time to give me feedback, including what you liked about the story. Your unending support humbles me. 

Thank you, Domonique Andrews, my new friend, for the phone chats just because we both write and for challenging me to flesh this story out, even though the writing of this project hurt like hell and I was so resistant to revisiting that time again, to writing one more word about it. Thank you for your pages of what about this and what about that. Those pages became a punch list that made going back slightly less scary. 

Thank you, Cheryl Lynn Ferrari, for taking me under your wing in a new program that was so alien to me, a Gestalt learner, that I couldn’t figure it out and constantly felt frustrated. Thank you for sharing your heart and giving me the pep talks I so desperately needed but didn’t know how to ask for – especially the words you wrote as a beta reader that enabled me to blast through my resistance and just finish it. I hope to return the favor with your upcoming novel.

After numerous revisions, I searched for the professional editor who could deal with this story and with me. I found Robert Armstrong. I knew that he was the one just by reading his opening statement – Words are my life. The dance with a new editor was challenging for both of us and I look forward to working with him again.

Thanks, all my friends on the SPS Mastermind Community for sharing their ups and downs which contributed to my feeling more comfortable, to finding a place there, with people who know what it’s like to be an indie author. Thanks for sharing your experience; you helped to improve mine. 

Thanks, Chandler Bolt, for writing Book Launch, the reason I joined SPS Community: to see what else I could learn from you!

I am so blessed to have such a team!

Introduction

Burnout and nervous breakdowns are not uncommon, especially for workaholics or driven people. At least that’s what the psychologists told me when I experienced mine in 1988. Symptoms of burnout include loss of energy, interest, or participation. In extreme cases, burnout may include deep depression characterized by a feeling of unrest, alienation and uncertainty that comes when one loses one’s sense of purpose or ideals. Self-medication – alcohol, drugs, sex – seldom provides the relief sought. Generally, it only magnifies the suffering.

Burnout is an egalitarian syndrome affecting workers in all walks of life. We might hear more about healthcare burnout, especially with nurses and physicians, but anyone in any kind of work can experience it. Some organizations are taking steps to educate workers and leaders about symptoms and providing support before their valued employees succumb to the stress.

Burnout typically results when workers feel unappreciated for all the long hours and extra work they do, a feeling that no one knows or cares how they feel. But programs to educate management take money and businesses, especially small ones, say they just don’t have it. Ironically, financial loss can be experienced by the employer that kills its golden goose through overload, lack of appreciation, or just by not noticing the signs of burnout. Simply listening might have been the one thing between that employee continuing or ditching the job. 

Another probable perspective of those labeled conditions is one that embraces the spiritual aspect of the experience – the dark night of the soul. From this perspective, the individual may feel that life has lost all meaning, especially if that person either has no meaningful spiritual foundation or is a seeker of spiritual truth and expression, longing to know God personally. S/he might try to mitigate their unending agony with alcohol, drugs or sex. They may even experience psychotic episodes, called night visions – even though the visions can happen at any time of the day or night.

Looking back almost 30 years through a wiser lens to write this story about my experience with burnout, aka dark night of the soul, I now understand quite differently what happened. That revelation will be the subject of the last book in this series, the true meaning of this story. Quiet introspection, examining my story, has proven to me that there are no coincidences – that just about every aspect of our lives is orchestrated and that it has meaning, whether or not we know it, whether or not we understand it.

Purposes and Goals

My purpose in sharing this story is to illustrate the concept of professionally diagnosed burnout – aka nervous breakdown or dark night of the soul – from the inside out, from the perspective of someone who had the experience, to shed some light on that path for other travelers. That is the primary goal for any memoir. I don’t think I’m special, although one reader did comment that my story was stranger than fiction. But I hope by sharing my story I can offer reassurance to anyone having a similar experience that:

You are never alone. You are more than okay. No matter what you’ve experienced, you will get to the other side if you want to. And you will have all the help you need for your journey ... if you choose to accept it.

Please note that this is not a how-to avoid burnout book, nor is anything in my experience recommended for the reader to follow. Instead, you’ll surely get an idea of the madness involved if burnout isn’t mitigated with a healthy intervention. At the same time, the reader will not help but learn from my experience that no matter how helpless and alone one feels, help is available.

Organization of the Series

My journey from burnout to bliss is told over a series of stories, from dark night of the soul to break-away jaunts that not only changed my life, but undoubtedly saved it. Bliss, the final book, concludes the series.

Book 1, BURNOUT, illustrates how it’s never just one thing when our life seems to have run off its rails and crashed. It includes the clumsy, destructive steps I took to survive the worst year of my life. It shows how real healing began when I camped with Indian shamans in Mexico where I overcame my fear and a desert lizard restored my faith.

Book 2, CYCLING in the CITY, represents the first actual break-away from my job, leaving with no plans and one paycheck to begin the journey of healing in California. Part 1 is my story, sharing the process of reclaiming my confidence and self-esteem. Part 2 is a gift to the reader. It explains why making any kind of change is so difficult; it addresses the different kinds of changes we make, the mental games we play, and the essential key for success.

Book 3 relates my second camping trip with those Indian shamans in Mexico before returning to Colorado and then moving to Canada – like the Tarot Fool with his knapsack, jumping off a cliff – to accept a possible job from a man I met at a dinner party some years previously.

Book 4 is a reflection of lessons learned, seen from a wiser, more enlightened perspective twenty-seven years later. It is the bookend to that long journey to forgiveness of my nemesis. This will be the concise how to handbook for anyone seeking a more positive experience in their own life.

Organization of Book 1, BURNOUT 

Part 1 and most of Part 2 is by theme; it wasn’t intended to be chronological, although some mentions of time are present. An individual who is falling apart experiences the world differently; everything feels like it’s happening all at once. Just getting through the day takes all his energy. Likewise, the writing is sometimes in present tense, also done intentionally for the reader’s enjoyment and because it was excerpted from journals.

About Enlightenment

Because we sometimes use the word enlightenment casually, let me quickly clarify my understanding of that process. According to one of my teachers, If a bird flew back and forth across the Himalayas with a silk scarf in its beak, the length of time it would take it to wear down the mountains is how long it takes for enlightenment.

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

From William Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Act One Scene V

Prologue

There wasn’t anything particularly special or different about the day. I remember listening to the Eagles on my drive to the college, reviewing mentally my schedule. It was jam-packed and included a community Board of Directors meeting about the half-way house for behaviorally disordered students, the main reason I chose to drive instead of hike up the hill, because that meeting was miles from the college.

I made a quick stop by my office to dump my papers and purse and then went off to teach, conveniently, in the classroom next door to the department’s suite of offices.

Everyone was feeling upbeat and chatting when I walked in. It felt like butterflies in the woods and encouraged me. I’d never quite gotten over the need to dash to the women’s room to barf before class – nerves from the public speaking part of teaching. But this day I was lecturing about a topic I had mastered, because it was about me, when I was a kid in public school.

After a bit of friendly chat and then the quick overview of the lecture, I was on solid ground. The words flowed easily, and that part of me that was always observing winked at me from the back wall.

I was explaining the different kinds of challenges a student with learning disabilities might have and everyone seemed to be enjoying the flow. Pens raced to note whatever their holders thought was important. Questions were limited. My tummy relaxed. I was on a roll!

Sensing a presence at the open door, I stopped.

Dr. Young? The gruff voice was from a stranger wearing dark colored clothing, looking like he hadn’t showered in at least a week – really rough and dirty. For a moment, the scientific part of me wondered why his smell hadn’t reached me yet.

I was on my way to meet him at the door when suddenly he yanked up the weapon hidden under his jacket and filled the room with smoke as he riveted my body with bullets, tearing through my flesh with such force I was thrown against the blackboard, spraying blood on the walls. I tasted the coppery flavor of the blood filling my mouth. I was strangling. I couldn’t speak.

Dr. Young? Dr. Young? The voice was familiar. I concentrated on opening my eyes.

It was a student sitting at his table in the classroom, wanting me to please repeat the part about how impairment with auditory information processing was different from hearing loss.

I tried to breathe, to feel my weight in my body.

I was standing up, not splayed on the floor. There was no blood. The air was clear. I could feel my face smiling.

Great question, Tim! I said. How about we take a quick break, say, five minutes? We’ll start with that when we get back. I headed to my office quickly.

I found psychiatrists in my phonebook and quickly made the call.

I think I just had a psychotic episode, I said to the first one who answered, not a receptionist, but the actual psychiatrist listed. When can you see me?

Part I:

It's Never Just One Thing

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Spiritual Journey Interrupted

Summer 1988

I can't recall the precise moment when spiritual matters became important to me, but my earliest recollection was an evening at the county fair with my parents, when I won a baseball toss and chose a cross that glowed in the dark over a miniature panda bear. I was 10.

By junior high I came to realize that I didn't seem to fit anywhere – that I was different. I invented creative ways to amuse myself without the assistance of friends, which I didn’t have. With money I earned mowing a neighbor’s yard, I bought my first book. I discovered yoga and spent many hours in the front yard, mastering the three-prong headstand. By high school I could easily lift my body from a prone position to a headstand by lying on my belly and sucking in my tummy muscles until my legs thrusted in unison directly over my head. Voila! Upside-down girl, standing on her head! This simple feat earned me a tiny following who thought I was weird.

But I wasn’t trying to be weird. My daddy had died when I was 12, and my family had never gotten over it. The loss shattered us. We each went our own way. We would never be the same again. No more popcorn balls and late night TV. No more barbecues with cousins on Sunday. No more family. And for that, I was angry with God and hell-bent on tracking Him down