Towards the end of last year, I was heading — no, hurtling towards burnout.
I was stressed about work, overwhelmed by my social calendar, and just a teeny bit worried about the whole cozzie livs thing — particularly as a single woman, living alone in a Sydney apartment where rent has gone up by more than $150 per week since I moved in.
For me, self-care practices such as exercise, meditation and early nights are usually non-negotiable, but they were rapidly falling away as I doggedly tried to fulfil every single commitment in my diary, regardless of how I was feeling. (Spoiler alert: mostly not good.)
Watch: The little rewards of self-care. Post continues below.
Thankfully, this wasn't my first rodeo with burnout and on this occasion, I managed to hit the brakes right before I crashed. And by 'crashed' I mean, crying in meetings and eating cereal for dinner (which isn't aesthetically pleasing enough to qualify as #girldinner).
I quickly scrapped my plan to just 'hang on' until the Christmas break, when I'd finally get some downtime. Because the reality was, that "downtime" would be one week of non-stop family and social commitments — with a little added festive sprinkle of pressure to pretend to be okay when very much NOT OKAY — before I was right back to work.