Unmasking My Journey: From Burnout to Blooming
Burnt-out? Creativity could be the cure you're looking for!
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This week's article is written by Liv, a millennial from London with Ugandan-English roots. Liv's does it all, from makeup artistry to content creation and motivational speaking. Today she’s here to share her journey, talking about her experiences code switching and masking at work, and how creativity helped her to heal from the burnout it caused. Its an honour to have Liv's candid story of self-discovery and resilience be the first in the series.
i.o.u a Full “Editors letter”, I’m ironically too burntout to write it this week.
Update 10.04.24: I did it! you can read it here
My Ugandan mother, experiencing the challenges of having a strong African accent as a minority in London, insisted I adopt a 'well spoken' manner of speaking, a skill she thought would set me apart from my peers and planted early seeds of performative existence. This performance wasn't limited to speech alone. My mother, a working class immigrant, adopted a middle-class facade as a means of her survival, a tactic I found mortifying yet understood to be necessary. Her acts of social masquerading (code switching) were not exercises in vanity but strategies born out of necessity in a world where appearances could dictate opportunities and acceptance. Blend in so you don’t stand out.
This early lesson in code switching was not merely a lesson in speech and body language, but a survival tactic in a society where the colour of your skin and the cadence of your voice could determine your trajectory.
Nonverbal cues hold immense significance to neurotypicals. In the workplace, mastering small talk is essential. Don’t just reply to their questions, make sure to “mirror back” those same questions in a bid to not sound self involved. My efforts to convey empathy through nods, smiles and nervous laughter was often misunderstood, with simple gestures mistaken for flirtation. In long meetings, my face would scrunch up like a raisin as I tried to stay focused on the speaker. Colleagues would tease afterwards, "Girl you should have seen your face?" Little did they know, my contorted mug was a sign of deep concentration, not boredom. In a bid to seem more present, I'd raise my eyebrows only to realise that an hour of constantly lifting them made me look like I was battling some serious constipation. Picture this: You're rocking back and forth in your cubicle, only to realise stimming is a major no-no in the professional world. Enter: the shoulder and arm rub - a sneaky fix that has colleagues questioning 'Are you cold?' as you rub away like you're auditioning for a survival movie. Nope, just vibing.
“burnout, the result of a lifelong exhaustive effort of perpetual code switching and masking.”
My ability to mask relied on my ability to consciously and continually conform. This brings us to the heart of my struggle with burnout, the result of a lifelong exhaustive effort of perpetual code switching and masking. In the throes of burnout my ability to perform basic tasks dwindled and my professional life suffered. Things got quite frightening when I experienced skill regression from tasks I had done a million times before. Looking at an Excel sheet induced a 3 hour meltdown. The numbers and letters all blended into a blur like the math lady meme. My brain deleted simple shortcut equations I knew like the back of my hand. I felt so inadequate. The only way I could deal with the overstimulation was to be in complete silence after work which really flushed my social life down the toilet. Spiralling deeper into isolation, this wasn’t just the “Sunday scaries” , the shutdowns were getting longer and more paralysing. The revelation that I might be on the autism spectrum came as an existential jolt. The realisation that my struggle wasn't merely just the black experience but actually a deeply personal journey with neurodivergence led me to confront my reality. I was Audhd and burnt (the-hell) out.
I tried working jobs with less responsibility - failed.
I tried working part time jobs -failed.
I even went back to retail, something simple- failed
In fact, I quit several jobs in one year, something I am deeply ashamed of. For years I had been a model employee, rarely taking sick days or being late. But the dissociation and isolation from being burned out eclipsed my ability to push through and ‘just firm it’ so I sank deep into the sunken place.
“Morning pages gave me freedom to be abstract and to say things the wrong way. Relieving pent up frustration I didn’t even know I needed to release.“
Right at my breaking point I serendipitously stumbled onto a safety net: "The Artist's Way." A book I had read before reignited my passion for creativity as a form of healing and self-expression. Morning pages gave me freedom to be abstract and to say things the wrong way. Relieving pent up frustration I didn’t even know I needed to release. The artist's dates allowed me to play with my inner child. Ultimately it gave me permission to enjoy my special interests. Special interests aren’t just hobbies for autistic people, they are a lifeline.
Embracing my love for writing, makeup artistry, and music, I began to shed the corporate guise, a mask that had promised security but delivered despair. There was no safety like they had promised only burnout, so I pivoted and began to re-trust myself. I had always worked hard in the past and I knew I wasn’t worthless just because I was struggling in the present.
Journaling became cathartic and a part of my burnout recovery. I learned that writing it all down actually made space, it removed the ruminating thoughts going around and around going nowhere fast. Clearing my cache and cookies resulted in fewer glitches for me.
Sharing my journey on TikTok, I found a community of neurodivergent creatives whose support and understanding fueled my recovery. Now I am self employed, I prioritise my health and well-being above all else. Healing is far from aesthetic or glamorous. The path to recovery is not without its sacrifices, but the alternative—a life of unending performance and unaddressed mental and physical pain—was a far graver fate.
“There is no going back to how things were before, this acceptance is the hardest pill to swallow.”
The process of undoing a lifetime of masking is daunting, yet I am committed to this journey. Now armed with journaling, breathwork, meditation, sensory play and the unyielding support of a community that sees me for who I truly am. Healing should be a slow process and now I try to have patience with myself, though the capitalist demand to be productive whispers in my ear frequently. There is no going back to how things were before, this acceptance is the hardest pill to swallow. But in embracing my vulnerabilities and strengths, I am not only healing myself but also attempting to lead by example. Showing that it is possible to emerge from the shadows of burnout to bloom into a life of authenticity and creative fulfilment.
Some resources from Liv..
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Liv’s words are like medicine. Great read ♥️