The Five Day Experiment

I intentionally opted to shut down my "real" life from Independence Day till about four hours ago. I would love to say I organized my garage, deep cleaned the kitchen, went to the gym then fixed up the guest bedroom. Wrote a screenplay. Lost 20 pounds. Found God. That kind of thing.

 I didn't do anything remotely of value. I read, I napped, I stayed up all night watching horror movies then slept until lunchtime. I didn't bother to get out of my pajamas. I didn't drive anywhere, see anyone, accomplish anything . I ended up actually getting sick Friday, feeling better by Sunday morning. Spent that time binge watching Battlestar Galactica and being grateful for a safe home, streaming media, and a cat with a black belt in cuddling and purring.

Here's why I took this time: I was burnt out. Completely and utterly burnt out. I had forgotten to make gratitude a default setting. My job became overwhelming. I lost joy in doing stuff and being with people I normally love to be around. My life was demanding more than I felt able to give. My mind was demanding more than its fair share of accomplishment. I was beginning to feel that kind of spin that only those with anxiety and depression understand- that moment when the idea of taking a shower feels like too much of a commitment. Sitting down at the beginning of a workday, booting up the computer, and feeling as though you've already done four hours of work fast forwarded in your brain between the parking lot and the factory. Observing coworkers goofing off and feeling jealousy of their ability to determine when and where they decide to be intense. The assignment that brought me so much joy and challenge in the beginning had become overwhelming.

In my 20s and 30s I attacked the condition of burnout by doing something equally damaging to my psyche: doing MORE, seeking approval and support of others in lieu of internal strength. Drinking. Overeating. Smoking cigarettes. Running long distances. Running long distances while smoking cigarettes. Freaking insane.

When you're in your 40s, you're officially an adult, not a child in an adult costume. Self care is paramount. I saw this avalanche coming, so I intentionally tried something different: DO NOTHING.

I had periods of discomfort in this five day experiment. I find it interesting that, similar to winter break between finals a new university semester, my body responded by getting ill. Frustrating, but interesting.

I experienced several moments in the past few days where these types of thoughts went through my head. I chose not to judge them, but observe them float by as they showed up. I didn't even respond to them. I just watched these thoughts float by:
"You'd better get something done. What will you tell your coworkers you did with your time? You can't waste it. What will they think?"
"You've slept till 11AM. What a waste. You could have done so much."
"Moms never get a day off. Why should you? What is in YOUR life that's so stressful?"
"Drama queen."
"Why aren't you helping your neighbor with his resume right now?"
"Your gym membership has devolved into a monthly fat tax."
"Why did you buy this condo? If you don't double down payments, you'll be still paying a mortgage when you're 77."
"You are a bad friend."

I replaced these thoughts above, intentionally with new ones:
"I love that my boss said to not call in for any reason."
"It's pretty damn cool I get paid to learn and teach others to learn."
"Lemonade ginger ale is so good."
(watching Supernatural) "Yup. I'm definitely heterosexual. Yup. Definitely."
(learning about additive manufacturing) "I think I'm starting to like my job again."
(apologizing to a friend) "Hey, I can make an error in judgement and not die of shame."
(reading War of the Worlds) "This H.G. Wells guy has some great imagination. Martians are steampunks!"
"I don't understand boredom. Life is interesting even when I'm in pajamas at 3PM."
"People want to be good. Let them."
"I can live through pain and loneliness."
"Being lonely is a choice. Living alone and being lonely are mutually exclusive."
"I don't think there is anything more enjoyable than a perfectly content cat on your lap."
"I'm glad I can see, hear, smell, touch, taste."

So, my brain never completely turned off in the past five days, but I sure got to turn down the volume by quite a bit. I thought to myself, could I do this for a whole week? Weeks? Months? Some people have health reasons that require them to stay this sedate. It's not a choice. It's a body trap. How would I deal with this if it were not an experiment, but a fact of life? That train of thought brought me to a very human issue I think everyone deals with: equating a life's value with its ability to be productive. What happens to a person's value when health, war, circumstances out of our control stop us from being "productive?" I've been faced with one of two truths: Either this farce is true and the one with the most toys wins, or it is false and therefore requires me to evaluate the metric I use to measure worth in life.

Fortunately, I hold a choice. Tomorrow I will rejoin "productive" society. I'll go to work, do my best, eat salad for lunch and drag out my workout gear to enjoy an evening walk. This experiment was a success. My burn out is gone. My self esteem remains in tact. I have found my gratitude again and feel healthy, relaxed, and connected to something beyond my own ragtag thoughts. I'm actually looking forward to returning to work and talking to people. Not to win toys or a competition, however. Not to win friends and influence people. I reemerge to normal life opting to change my metric. A worthwhile life is one where you pay attention and care. Do your best and love. When hit with burnout or any other negative condition, be selective in how I choose to deal with it.

But I'd like just one more hour with my purr monster and some completely escapist paranormal adventure....and be grateful.