May the Body You Burnout Light the Way

Listen to your body.

Image by Mackenzie Freemire

I anticipate that I’d face burnout every 32nd of October. “32nd? What kind of date is that?” You’d question twice. “Yes,” I’d reply, melting into my couch, not wanting to move or even talk to you once.

I used to burnout every half a year. Recently, I’ve been burning out nearly every quarter. Who knows, when I turn 40 next year, I might burn out every month. High-five! No? Ok.

Burnout every 32nd of the month; three-ty, two-ty. When you are burned out, numbers are just squiggly lines made up by some Arabian in the desert. Just as work, life, and your body are—some squiggly mirage.

What does burnout feel like? That’s like asking me what water tastes like, so here goes.

Burnout places you in an existential dread of wanting nothing while desperately attempting to hold on to something in the chaos of everything. 

Perhaps the best way to describe it is driving at top gear with an empty gas tank while being blinded by smog, a smorgasbord of denial, lethargy, and a poor m…