Happy January, honeys, and welcome to 2020: The Threequel. It's New Year's Resolution season, but with the pandemic raging, tempers flaring, and reserves of energy and fortitude flagging, it doesn't feel like the right time to talk about aspirational goals. Instead, let's dig in to your questions on a topic most of us are now intimately familiar with: Burnout. Whatever kind of burnout you are struggling with, I hope my answers, below, offer guidance. At the very least, I hope it helps to know that you are not alone in running on empty.
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Dear Aunt Paige,
To be honest, I’m burnt out on books. I’m burnt out on bingeing comedies and baking shows and all the rest of my comfort views on Netflix. I’m sick of bubble baths, long walks, my favorite tea. I’ve been self-caring myself into a stupor, and it’s not working anymore. How can I take care of myself when, at this point in the endless slog of this pandemic, it all just feels empty and futile?
Just Plain Burnt
Dear Burnt,
Oh, how well I understand this feeling.
Let me start by saying that, of course, your Aunt Paige is not a mental health professional, and as malaise can be a real symptom of depression and anxiety, you, or anyone else out there feeling lost right now, should absolutely not hesitate to reach out to a professional, should you need it.
As for my own very unprofessional but no less sincere point of view, I might suggest you change things up a bit. Check out some other teas, one of which might become your new favorite. Dip your toes into a new TV genre or type of book you’ve not read before. If you’ve been avoiding guilty pleasures, go all in. If you’re sick of guilty pleasures, try a challenging read. I haven’t been a big science reader in my life, but I recently got into Michio Kaku’s
The God Equation, and it was a fantastic rabbit hole (wormhole?) to get lost down inside.
And here’s the thing that’s helped me the most. Point your focus out rather than in. Sometimes the best self-care is doing something for someone else.
When enjoying a good book feels passive, calling a friend who hasn’t heard from you in a while can feel active. When indulging in delicious food feels empty, making meals for delivery to someone you love or someone in need can be fulfilling. Reaching out has been the best way for me to break out of my own malaise and remind myself why every day is a precious thing.
(And how can I not suggest checking out our fabulous
Happy You Sale for suggestions on more ways to take care, both outwardly and inwardly. And self-care is one thing, crumpet—but self-care at 20% off is even better.)
Love,
Aunt Paige
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Dear Aunt Paige,
Lately I've been spending all of my free time reading articles about variants and vaccine policy, books about about the political situation, and tweets about the latest terrible news. It is exhausting and depressing and I know my fixation is unhealthy, but my brain won't turn itself off. I watch a tv show and focus on the lack of masks. I read a rom-com and I wonder if the HEA will survive the climate crisis. And even though I know there is no such thing as a guilty pleasure, some part of my brain rebels against taking time to do anything that isn't "useful." How can I relax when there is always a new crisis and escapism doesn't work?
Depressed Doomscroller
Dear Doomscroller,
To state the obvious, there is a lot of bad news out there right now. I'd never suggest you should go stick your head under a rock — your drive for knowledge is an important and valuable thing — but the amount of brain-space it is taking up is clearly damaging your well-being.
You are not alone in feeling guilty when you take the time to do something that isn't "useful." Our culture's obsession with optimizing productivity can be so deeply ingrained and so damaging. It sounds like you already know you shouldn't feel guilty, but if you're finding it hard to take a break from the nonfiction right now, try expanding your focus instead. Books like Rutger Bregman's
Humankind: A Hopeful History and
The Dawn of Everything by David Wengrow and the late, great David Graeber are educational, but also offer sweeping, optimistic, and well-researched views of human history that can help lift you out of the pessimistic minutiae of the news cycle.
When you are ready to read fiction again, try something completely out of this world. It can be easier to not dwell on what crises the protagonists would be dealing with in the real world when they are flying across the galaxy or on a magical adventure rather than, say, sitting around a bar in Brooklyn.
Daughter of the Moon Goddess,
The Atlas Six, and
Light From Uncommon Stars are some of my recent and forthcoming favorites. Or check out
this list of the best Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Horror, Romance and Graphic Novels of 2021 for more options.
Finally — to be an old fuddy-duddy — this newfangled technology really does make it harder than ever to give yourself a break from the news cycle. Media organizations and networks prioritize stories designed to outrage because they generate more clicks. When those stories are fed to you through endless push notifications and bottomless social media feeds, it is easy to feel like humanity is an irredeemable mess. That isn't to say that the bad news isn't real, just that it can be easier to deal with when you manage your input and temper it with stories that show that not everything is a ball of fire. Subscribe to a newsletter full of good news, like the ones available from
Good News Network or
positive.news, limit your push notifications, and be mindful about how and when you are consuming the news. In your Aunt Paige's house, the rule is no bad news or social media before tea in the morning or after teeth brushing at night. That time is set aside for a good book, like the ones above.
You are pushing yourself into exhaustion. Cut yourself some slack.
Love,
Aunt Paige
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Dear Aunt Paige,
My question is about burnout of a different sort: a burnout of compassion. I’m so very angry that so many people still, after all this time and all these lives, refuse to mask, to vax, refuse to take any actions toward protecting others in this ongoing emergency. My anger is so acute that I’m having a crisis of conscience, because I feel it’s changing me, making me lose my faith in humanity. And I don’t know what to do about it.
At a loss
Dear At a loss,
First of all, in case you or anyone else needs to hear it, it is OK to feel this anger. We’re told we should, instead, try to be understanding. No. In honor of the octogenarian with COPD, the immunocompromised teacher, the toddler, the mother who, for medical reasons, cannot be vaccinated: No.
But how do we acknowledge these feelings and not allow them to erode our faith in humanity?
I think it’s worth remembering, or even reevaluating, what faith in humanity really is. It’s easy to lose sight of its true meaning when we get overwhelmed by what seems like the utter lack of it all around us. There will always be badness in the world — greed, thoughtlessness, hate — but faith in humanity lives inside that fact.
Whenever I need a little boost in my own, I turn to books. Turn to
March and find faith in John Lewis, the congressman who fought ceaselessly for civil and human rights. Turn to
All the Frequent Troubles of Our Days and find faith in Mildred Harnack, the woman who sacrificed her life to lead one of the largest underground resistance groups in World War II Germany. Turn to
Letter to my Daughter and find faith in Maya Angelou, who rose out of her arduous early years to become an elegant and steadfast force striving to raise others up:
“I gave birth to one child, a son, but I have thousands of daughters. You are Black and White, Jewish and Muslim, Asian, Spanish speaking, Native Americans and Aleut. You are fat and thin and pretty and plain, gay and straight, educated and unlettered, and I am speaking to you all.”
Yes, your Aunt Paige is giving you the kind of advice she always gives you—to read. Hey, it really works. Also: find the folks around you who you can believe in; they’re out there. Also: continue to do good, yourself; be what you want to believe in. I’m not saying we should be complacent in the face of badness. That anger you’re feeling? That has helped fight some very good fights. But where faith in humanity is concerned, remember that it’s not an equation to be calculated in raw totals. True faith in humanity is the faith that, even with the sum of our flaws, the sum of our goodness is greater.
Love,
Aunt Paige