For All The Things You Helped Me See
Dear Burnout, or as you're more affectionately known, crazy busy no good very bad season of chaos.
Yeah, I'm talking to you. I know you're name. I know what you look like. I know you intimately. Every nook and cranny, every curve and shadow, every wrinkle and shape. We've spent a lot of time together. It's because of this time, I think, I know you so well.
I want to say something I don't think I've said before. Are you listening?
Burnout, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Seriously, I'm not joking. I'm really grateful for you! I've realized something new recently. Without you, I never would have come to know (truly, deep in my bones know) that I'm a good therapist, that I'm a good person.
See, before you, I survived on the newness of my skills, as a sort of comfort and security blanket that "allowed" and "permitted" me to make mistakes. I thought, wrongly, that mistakes of any kind should be attributed to a "fault" of some kind, and couldn't possibly happen to someone who wasn't at fault in some way. For me, my fault was novelty: I was too new at this to know fully what I was doing. To call myself a "good" therapist in this light would be to open the door for hurt, because my mistakes would no longer be attributed to my novelty, but myself. No thanks.
Anyway, since my perceived flaw / fault was "I don't know enough yet" I sought to rectify this by learning as much as I could as fast as I could. I drank from the fire hydrant, not thinking to complain really, because I thought it was helping me fix my flaw. That's when you showed up.
I was doing too much, I admit, and you showed me that in a way no one else could. My friends couldn't convince me, my family couldn't get through, even my closest relationships didn't know how to tell me the very things you were forcing me to see: I was doing too much, and it was hurting me.
Thank you for showing me this. I heard you. Your message got through.
The listening was the harder part. Actually taking a step to do something about the "too muchness" of my day to day life. After all, it kind of felt like I was surrendering the thing (education, experience, learning) that would eventually make me into "that therapist who has arrived and knows her stuff."
Side note, that therapist doesn't exist, and if she does I wouldn't go to her... she's probably half robot.
Bravery often shows up in tandem with fear. People who are brave without obstacle, fear, or sheer terror of the unknown probably are only "half brave" as George MacDonald puts it (my favorite quote by the way, I'll put it at the bottom of this post). Anyway, this was definitely the case for me. I didn't feel brave, because I was so freaking terrified. I was in survival mode. That's what you did to me, burnout, but it was actually this terror and survival mode that pushed me to make some of the most courageous decisions of my life.
My life started to shift.
And as it shifted, and I got a break, and I got a breather, and then I got another client... that's when I felt it. "Huh, I'm not so worried about my mistakes anymore." I traded my phobia for my flaws, to a simple freedom to own them, show them to people, and move on with my life.
Burnout, you've truly shown me that "being a good therapist" is not so much about the degrees I have, the things I've accomplished, or whether or not I feel that client thought I did a good job or not. No, being a good therapist is about feeling the freedom to sit with another human being and listen to them. It's the freedom of being so comfortable with yourself that you can offer your presence fully and wholly to someone who's simply asking to be heard and helped. It's the freedom of filling your life with things other than "therapy" so that the vibe you bring with you (whether in the counseling room or not) is one of confidence and care, one of "I know I have worth but I also know I need to prove it to myself by showing myself I care enough to invest in my own future and needs / wants."
Burnout, I never thought I'd tell you all of this, but I can't help it. Without you, I simply wouldn't be in this place. For that, I owe you. I hope we can go our separate ways in peace, knowing there is no ill-will between us. But, for what it's worth, you were a good friend, even though you put me through hell. For that, I'm grateful.
Yeah, I'm talking to you. I know you're name. I know what you look like. I know you intimately. Every nook and cranny, every curve and shadow, every wrinkle and shape. We've spent a lot of time together. It's because of this time, I think, I know you so well.
I want to say something I don't think I've said before. Are you listening?
Burnout, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Seriously, I'm not joking. I'm really grateful for you! I've realized something new recently. Without you, I never would have come to know (truly, deep in my bones know) that I'm a good therapist, that I'm a good person.
See, before you, I survived on the newness of my skills, as a sort of comfort and security blanket that "allowed" and "permitted" me to make mistakes. I thought, wrongly, that mistakes of any kind should be attributed to a "fault" of some kind, and couldn't possibly happen to someone who wasn't at fault in some way. For me, my fault was novelty: I was too new at this to know fully what I was doing. To call myself a "good" therapist in this light would be to open the door for hurt, because my mistakes would no longer be attributed to my novelty, but myself. No thanks.
Anyway, since my perceived flaw / fault was "I don't know enough yet" I sought to rectify this by learning as much as I could as fast as I could. I drank from the fire hydrant, not thinking to complain really, because I thought it was helping me fix my flaw. That's when you showed up.
I was doing too much, I admit, and you showed me that in a way no one else could. My friends couldn't convince me, my family couldn't get through, even my closest relationships didn't know how to tell me the very things you were forcing me to see: I was doing too much, and it was hurting me.
Thank you for showing me this. I heard you. Your message got through.
The listening was the harder part. Actually taking a step to do something about the "too muchness" of my day to day life. After all, it kind of felt like I was surrendering the thing (education, experience, learning) that would eventually make me into "that therapist who has arrived and knows her stuff."
Side note, that therapist doesn't exist, and if she does I wouldn't go to her... she's probably half robot.
Bravery often shows up in tandem with fear. People who are brave without obstacle, fear, or sheer terror of the unknown probably are only "half brave" as George MacDonald puts it (my favorite quote by the way, I'll put it at the bottom of this post). Anyway, this was definitely the case for me. I didn't feel brave, because I was so freaking terrified. I was in survival mode. That's what you did to me, burnout, but it was actually this terror and survival mode that pushed me to make some of the most courageous decisions of my life.
My life started to shift.
And as it shifted, and I got a break, and I got a breather, and then I got another client... that's when I felt it. "Huh, I'm not so worried about my mistakes anymore." I traded my phobia for my flaws, to a simple freedom to own them, show them to people, and move on with my life.
Burnout, you've truly shown me that "being a good therapist" is not so much about the degrees I have, the things I've accomplished, or whether or not I feel that client thought I did a good job or not. No, being a good therapist is about feeling the freedom to sit with another human being and listen to them. It's the freedom of being so comfortable with yourself that you can offer your presence fully and wholly to someone who's simply asking to be heard and helped. It's the freedom of filling your life with things other than "therapy" so that the vibe you bring with you (whether in the counseling room or not) is one of confidence and care, one of "I know I have worth but I also know I need to prove it to myself by showing myself I care enough to invest in my own future and needs / wants."
Burnout, I never thought I'd tell you all of this, but I can't help it. Without you, I simply wouldn't be in this place. For that, I owe you. I hope we can go our separate ways in peace, knowing there is no ill-will between us. But, for what it's worth, you were a good friend, even though you put me through hell. For that, I'm grateful.
"You must learn to be strong in the dark as well as in the light, else you will always be only half brave." -George MacDonald
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