I Burned Out. here’s what’s next.

A Quick Intro

I always thought burn out would feel slow. Like trying to throw a punch in a dream. Or my current mile time. Like a candle that was left lit for too long, the flame slowly dwindling in a pool of wax until it finally just…gave out.

For me, burnout was overnight.

Now, let’s be honest. The reasons for my burn out were building up for a long time. But I didn’t contemplate that I needed change for long. I woke up one morning, realized that I had gone from loving my work to dreading showing up, and that was it. I consulted my family, confided in a couple coworkers, and texted my boss to let her know that we needed to talk.

When I did meet with her, I was surprised to hear that she knew before I did that I was going to quit. She said she could tell I missed my family and wanted to be there for them (I had taken a mental health day from work the week prior and driven the 5 hours home for cat snuggles and the comforting chaos of a loud Pakistani home). I felt relieved she knew - that I didn’t need to go into a long explanation in an effort to let her know that it was me, not them (why, yes, I am the mayor of cliché city, thanks for asking). This also made it much easier to quit, despite having a stellar boss and coworkers that I miss everyday.

I put in my 2 month notice at that meeting, which I changed to a 3 week notice just a few days later. One of my best friends in the clinic was switching to a different clinic 3 weeks from the day I let everyone know I was leaving, and it seemed like the right time for me to go, too.

Why I Burned Out (I Think):

• I wasn’t near family, nor my long-term high school and college friends. I went into residency as an extrovert and it was really difficult for me to be starting over in a city where I never quite felt like I belonged.

• I became a better clinician and researcher thanks to my residency, and I met some of my favorite people I’ll ever know by moving to Columbus. Plus, teaching was truly was the highlight of my time in Ohio and one of my most rewarding experiences as a physical therapist. However, I went through some of the most horrifying and traumatic experiences of my life in residency. The biggest lesson I learned during this time was that no situation is all good or all bad. Neither are people all good or all bad. Although I had made great strides towards recovery and I was so much happier in my second year, I never seemed to be able to emotionally disconnect from those hard times without physical distance, too.

• I was having a hard time setting boundaries in my work hours and I went from working 5 8-hour shifts to essentially 5 10-12’s. I started coming in early and staying late to see patients, often rushing through my daily prayers and struggling to focus on the patient in front of me without worrying about what my day would bring next. I did this a lot as a first-year resident and reverting back to my old ways didn’t feel like the healthy growth I had worked so hard for over the past several months.

• I was the only visible minority clinician in both the clinics I’d worked in at Ohio State. Although everyone was great and I faced very few microaggressions at my most recent clinic, being the only person of your religion and race for that long can weigh on you. I needed people who understood my unique experiences, struggles, and celebrations, and there were many times that I just felt really alone.

  And How I Figured it Out:

• My therapist first pointed it out to me. I told her what I was feeling before I realized what I was going through and her exact words were, “that’s textbook burnout.” It felt like a slap in the face at the time, and I was admittedly a bit irritated at her melodramatics, but she was right and I don’t know that I would have made the right changes when I did without her.

• I went from loving the work I did to praying my patients wouldn’t show up. I hate admitting that as someone who has worked so hard to advocate for my place in this profession, but I felt this overwhelming gloom settle over me every time my next patient checked in. I began to struggle with straight-forward clinical cases and I was totally compassioned-out. Once the type of therapist to sacrifice a productive session for learning more about a patient’s personal life, I found that I had stopped caring about nearly everything people told me about themselves.

• My physical symptoms got worse, despite my best effort at treatment. I was becoming increasingly dizzy throughout the day, noticing that I was short of breath with the simplest of tasks. My nightly insomnia and nightmares made me feel as though I may be losing my mind, and I began to fall asleep as soon as I got home from work, often skipping dinner and missing my last daily prayer. I gave up on exercising and I couldn’t tell you the last time I’d had a meal that wasn’t takeout.

• Even when I went through the most stressful parts of residency, I didn’t want to leave. So, to be overall happy and content in my job, and yet still feel like it was taking everything out of me to drag myself around work and do the bare minimum, was new. And, it wasn’t sustainable.

Did I make it sound like I hated anything and everyone in my life while in Ohio? Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of. And that is 10000% not it.

If you ask anyone I worked with, I think they’d tell you, truthfully, that I always had a great time in that clinic. I truly felt that I could be myself everyday, that I could make my dumb jokes and wear what I wanted and no one would question my professionalism because I loved my work, my patients, and the people I was with.

And that’s why I think burnout is probably a bit like depression. Depression isn’t just sadness. You can experience happy moments and be blessed and content, but still be depressed.

I was, and am, a big advocate for physical therapy. I gushed over my coworkers. I felt that I was making a difference for my patients. I had brilliant, lovely, friends who I look up to and love spending time with.

But I still felt burned out.

Now? I miss my coworkers and I miss my friends. I miss my apartment and I miss Columbus coffee, diversity, markets, and more. But I no longer feel burned out. So, perhaps I’m now feeling the reverse. I have moments of sadness and loneliness, but am overall no longer dreading my life.

I’ll come back to physical therapy, I’m sure of it.

For now, I’m going to embrace what I have and live the life I’m in.

And for whatever is next, I’ll be healthier when it finds me.