Running Towards Nothing

Or how to burn out without working yourself to the bone

When I started working, I chose to be (or fell into being) a copywriter/creative writer at agency or agency adjacent companies. Nothing too fancy. All small businesses and several eventually folded after decades of struggling to stay afloat.

I was ecstatic to be in these jobs, being in rooms with really smart, funny and witty people, and generally felt privileged to belong in such spaces. My commute was (painfully, in retrospect) long at 1.5hrs one way to get to work. I developed a habit of starting my day ungodly early for a creative person, being the first person in and, more often than not, one of the last people out. 95% of my waking hours were consumed by work, office, and work things. Obviously, this left me very little time for life.

To add to this, the nature of the job was such that I was required to think of ideas. Since I was absolutely terrified of coming up short and desperate to be thought of worth it, I made sure I was thinking of said ideas all day long. Every single day. I was locked in all the time. Including weekends.

I know this sounds like ambition. But it’s not. Never was. It wasn’t even about loving my job. It was the secret third thing - lack of life, personality and interests; desperate to be away from home and home-me (I grew up and lived in a completely different small-town-ey world, but that’s for another post).

This always-on work mode became a cornerstone of how I worked because this is all I knew of what having a job was. So for the last 14 years, with every job I had, I would start off with unprecedented, unwavering attention to work (even on weekends). This will go on for the first year or so till my brain and body start to slow down, imperceptibly at first, then snowballing into resenting everything - the company, the industry, the people, and most of all, my own work. This led to the only thing I could bear to do - quit.

I have always quit my job without another one ready to jump into. I used to think this was because I was too much of a straight shooter to job hunt in stealth while working the existing one. But as I type this, I am realizing it’s really because I have always worn myself out.

But this time it’s different.

When I began work in 2024 for this job, I worked really hard to uphold my boundaries for when I will be available for work and how much I would realistically do within the bounds of 10am - 6pm, 5 days a week. Time and again, I pushed back and put my foot down more times than I thought was possible.

And yet, I feel worn out. Again.

I was afraid to stake claim to burnout because I didn’t work myself to the bone this time. I did what the internet said I should do to avoid burnout - didn’t work weekends, switched off after work hours, upheld boundaries. Even took more time-offs than I usually do.

And yet, I feel this shameful apathy towards work. I constantly fantasize about other jobs. I see The Bear or Masterchef Australia and it sets off a daydream of working in a kitchen where I don’t have to cobble together meaning and value for the work that I do. I watch friends on my socials with envy when they share the work they are proud of.

I know this is burnout, but I also know this is different. The problem is part capitalism, part… me.

Enough and more has been written about burnout due to exploitative capitalistic nature of overwork by people who know better than me. So I will focus on the me part. Because no one is more qualified to speak about me better than… me.

One of the key changes I brought to my life after my first run-in with burnout from advertising was to pivot to a different career track.

I took a break to study counselling psychology for a year (part time) and practiced for a few months before I found myself doing something familiar - judging my work. In this case, my lack of certifications, training, and expertise. I cobbled together a mountain of seemingly reasonable reasons for quitting and set out to do something safer: finding a full-time job.

I didn’t fully know what I wanted to do; all I knew was what I did not want. Therein, I believe, lies the root of my problem that has blossomed into yet another burnout.

This was 4 years ago. I have worked in 2 companies since (one of them I continue to work at), both in education. Neither are working me to the bone. Neither also spark any joy in me. Nor do they leave me feeling proud of the work I do. In fact, I do everything in my power to hide my work life from people I know otherwise (and from my past). It’s not work you write on LinkedIn about. It’s not work you flaunt with ‘New Work’ sticker on your IG story. It’s not even work to pad your resume with.

It lacks meaning (for me).

And this is my problem. When I ran away from work I didn’t want to do, I didn’t figure out what to run towards. So, I am running for nothing, and no wonder I am worn out.

But I am terrified of pausing to figure out what lights that fire in me, what excites me, what will make me feel proud of the work I do. Because I don’t know how long it will take me to find my north star, but the bills will come in every month and they will need to be paid. Debit without credit in my bank account puts me in fight/flight mode. It lights up my nervous system on fire. So, I panic and take off again. Towards nothing again. Like a hamster in business casuals on a death wheel.