Beating Burnout With Books
Burnout, traditionally tied to work-related stress, manifests itself in other ways, and that’s become apparent this year especially.
burn·out | \ ˈbərn-ˌau̇t \ (noun): exhaustion of physical or emotional strength or motivation usually as a result of prolonged stress or frustration
That’s Merriam-Webster’s definition of burnout. While the word “work” does not appear once in the definition, it’s nearly impossible to have a conversation about burnout without some aspect of work-related stress coming into play. In August 2019, I wrote a column titled “Let’s All Set Fire to the Burnout Epidemic,” which focused specifically on the prevalence of workplace stress as a result of overly-packed calendars and to-do lists, and what employers and employees can do to overcome it.
I recently read the book “Can’t Even: How Millennials Became the Burnout Generation” by Anne Helen Peterson for a virtual book club, and at the beginning of the group discussion, the host asked everyone to share how burnout manifests itself in their life. Each member – myself included – described a different version of a story about an awful job they held in the past, defined by a boss who overstepped boundaries, late-night emails and a constant anxiety over whether or not they were succeeding in the role. The host responded with interest and surprise over the fact that every person automatically associated burnout with work.
This speaks to the fact that for many people, work takes utmost importance in their lives. It’s not only their source of meaning and closely tied to their identity, but keeping a job (even a less than ideal one) feels critical to sustaining life, with many living a few hundred dollars away from a financial disaster and new jobs being hard to find. Burnout, however, manifests itself in other ways for people, and that’s become apparent this year especially.
In 2020, some people are burnt out on childcare or looking after an older relative in their household. Others are burnt out on their prolonged separation from a loved one, their fear of contracting the coronavirus every time they go out in public, or the ongoing arguments they’re having with family members over COVID precaution protocol.
Some are even burnt out on spending so much time at home and feeling pressure to fill all those extra hours with entertainment. Even people who were homebodies before the pandemic had the option of creating balance in their lives by chatting with strangers at a local coffee shop, hosting a dinner party on the weekend or going to a concert. Now the options are limited, and at some point, even the most intriguing-sounding recipes, movies, shows, articles, games and craft projects become dull.
I personally am burnt out on hearing about how all over the place Americans are. Since the election, tens of millions of Americans have been feeling ecstatic about the outcome and counting down the days to Jan. 20, when four years of insanity in the White House will finally come to an end. On the other hand, tens of millions of Americans are not happy, either because the candidate they love lost, or because they believe an election fraud conspiracy theory and won’t admit their candidate lost. The difference in thought that we’ve seen among elected leaders, with some acknowledging Joe Biden as the president-elect immediately and others still yet to acknowledge him as the winner, has even bled into the credit union industry. On Nov. 7, CUNA and NAFCU released statements expressing congratulations for the president-elect, while the NCUA as of press time had still not acknowledged Biden’s win.
And when it comes to the coronavirus, we couldn’t be less united. As a quick example, here’s what two people living on opposite ends of the country posted on Facebook at the same time last week:
Friend 1: My dad had to enter a house full of COVID-positive people today for a maintenance gig. They all wore masks, but we have to assume he contracted the virus, so we won’t be having him over for Thanksgiving. Prayers for a negative test result.
Friend 2: I’m in bed sick today. Could be a cold, could be the dreaded c-word, lol. But my epic trip to Phoenix last weekend made it worth it!
Yes, I am totally burnt out on witnessing such drastic variations in thought patterns on serious matters that like many of you, I am trying to limit my news and social media intake. Instead, I’m focusing on practicing various forms of self-care. Of course, most at-home activities began feeling monotonous months ago, but one that I haven’t burnt out on (yet) is reading books. So I’m going to leave you with a list of my favorite pandemic reads. The first (and only nonfiction) one is the book on millennial burnout I mentioned earlier, which grew out of a popular 2019 Buzzfeed article by the same author. It examines the systemic issues that have contributed to burnout, like the rise in both education costs and low-benefit, dead-end jobs, and had me nodding in agreement the whole way through. Here are my others (and if you’re burnt out on reading, message me – I’m happy to share my pandemic movie and TV show list instead):
- “The Institute,” Stephen King: I picked this up after giving up on “The Stand,” which as a novel about a deadly virus-induced apocalypse sounded like the perfect pandemic book, but lost my attention about 600 pages in. It’s an easier-to-digest read about children with psychic or telekinetic abilities who are kidnapped and used for their talents, and their efforts to escape.
- “Station Eleven,” Emily St. John Mandel: Of all the dystopian fiction books I read this year, this was by far my favorite. It gives you a sense of what it would feel like to watch society collapse following a pandemic far worse than the one we’re currently experiencing, and what it might take to preserve the arts.
- “Baby Teeth,” Zoje Stage: About a mother struggling to parent her mute daughter whose main goal is to torture her, this book starts out as a thriller but turns into a realistic and heartbreaking look at mental illness.
- “Little Eyes,” Samanta Schweblin: In this novel told from multiple points of view, people on different continents are connected by “kentukis,” mechanical stuffed animals with cameras for eyes. It makes you think hard about the role technology plays in our private lives.
- “The Silent Patient,” Alex Michaelides: This is a must-read for any psychological thriller fan about a murder, a therapist and his patient, and concludes with a major unexpected twist.
- “My Year of Rest and Relaxation,” Ottessa Moshfegh: While this book’s plot line isn’t exactly uplifting (a troubled young woman in Manhattan attempts to sleep through the year leading up to 9/11 by abusing prescription pills), the writing is entertaining and hysterical. It’ll also make you feel better about all the time you’ve wasted sitting at home this year.
- “Luster,” Raven Leilani: Another virtual book club pick of mine, this taboo tale examines class and race as it follows a young Black woman in Manhattan who gets involved with an older white man in an open marriage.
- “The Whisper Man,” Alex North: I read this creepy serial-killer novel in the weeks leading up to Halloween, but I suppose it would have been fitting any time this year. When life is at its scariest, getting lost in a story that’s much scarier somehow makes the real world a bit more bearable.
Natasha Chilingerian is executive editor for CU Times. She can be reached at nchilingerian@cutimes.com.