Born 2b me

Burnout.

24 Oct 2010 9 Comments

by Bruce (born 2b me) in Asperger's, autism, burnout Tags: Asperger's, authenticity, autism, burnout, expectations

Burnout. This is a piece about my own burnout. I am writing in the hope that anyone struggling with burnout may find something here that may be helpful.

I remember, many years ago, reading a sidebar in Scientific American. I don’t remember the main article but the sidebar stuck in my mind. It was about a study of stress in monkeys. The experimental group was stressed by loud sound and the control group had no stress. At the end of six or twelve weeks (I’m not sure of the exact time, but it was short) the stressed monkeys were all found to have lesions in their brains but the controls had normal brains. In short, stress actually caused brain damage. (But do take heart, recent research into neuroplasticity has revealed that our brains are very good at building new circuits around the damage).

I heard a piece on the radio the other day about an author who was writing a book about his research into an actual gruesome murder. He would work on it until midnight. Then he would feel that he needed a shower or some way to disinfect himself. His wife finally told him that he needed to take a break from the book. She could sense the toll that dealing with the horrible facts day-after-day was having on him.

I once worked for ten years as a social worker in child protection. I would usually wake up at three in the morning thinking about my clients’ situations. My wife wondered how I could exist with only three hours sleep a day. The fact is that I couldn’t, as we eventually found out. My family physician sent me to several specialists over several years trying to find out why I was getting progressively weaker to the point that I did not know if I would make it all the way to my car, without collapsing, while carrying some milk from the supermarket. I was also having progressive, profound memory and cognitive difficulties. It got to the point where I had to take written notes when discussing a case with my supervisor, and then reread my notes before going into a clients home, and then take glances at the notes during my interview to make sure I covered everything. And I used to be one of the top investigative workers in the agency! Over time, as I gradually went more and more down hill, my doctor finally, in 1993, diagnosed Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (or Myalgic Encephalomyelitis as it is known in Commonwealth countries).

Then she sent me to someone who specialized in CFS/ME. He was reluctant to confirm the diagnosis because he was picking up strong signs of burnout. So he sat on the fence for a year, and I carried both diagnoses. Then after a year, he said that I should have recovered from burnout by then so he settled on CFS/ME. The Long Term Disability Insurance I had at work tried everything to rehabilitate me but to no avail. They considered me “totally disabled” which meant that I was unable to work at any occupation. I collected LTD benefits for seventeen years until I reached retirement age last January. I say that just to give you an idea of how severe the disability was (insurance companies don’t like paying out benefits!).

Since joining the Autism Spectrum blogging community, I am seeing CFS/ME as probably a misdiagnosis. My doctor’s original hunch about burnout was probably correct. But hardly anyone had heard about Asperger’s back then. Profound Mid-life Autistic Burnout is what I believe I experienced.

My clients would tell me that I wasn’t like their other workers. They said I cared about them. One mother, whose children had been placed in care, told me I was too sensitive for this line of work. They were seeing  the highly charged empathic response of Aspies/auties. Our overactive brains take in too much, and process it so thoroughly, in such a highly charged manner, that I believe we risk burn out. Especially when day-to-day work involves exposure to so many tragedies.

Caution: the next paragraph contains a description of an abused child.

I have memories, of things I saw, and disclosures I heard, that are still vivid after all these years. I can still picture the back of a little three-year old girl. Her babysitter called us because the girl’s back was crisscrossed like lattice-work by raised red welts from her mother’s belt. I can see that little girl in my mind today as clearly as I saw her in real life 25 years ago. I will carry her memory to my grave. And that’s not to mention all the disclosures of physical, emotional and sexual abuse.

There was also the extreme stress of attempting to function in the neurotypical work world. In the course of investigating child abuse I interviewed children, perpetrators and parents. I participated in case conferences at the agency and at hospitals. There  were staff meetings and visits to foster homes. I often testified in court. I was on the union negotiating team.

But I was also known as “the invisible worker” by some of my colleagues because, at lunch, I retreated to my office to recoup and recharge, rather than socializing in the staff room.

I had great difficulties getting my paper work done. When I should have been writing a report I would find myself just sitting there at my desk while in my mind I was off in some fantasy world much more to my liking. (but on rereading this, I ask myself who wouldn’t want to escape the world of child abuse? but I still struggle with getting things done because I really like my fantasy world!)

Little did I know that my differences, which I tried so hard to cover up and overcome, were actually signs of autism/Asperger’s which I should have been celebrating. Had I known then what I have just recently learned from the autism spectrum blogging community, perhaps I might have been able to accept my differences, and live accordingly, instead of trying so hard to behave like a neurotypical. I am not sure how I would have earned the  income needed to support my homeschooling wife and four kids, but perhaps something creative would have occurred to me. There was so much needless stress caused by attempting to be what I was not. My attempts virtually always fell short of my expectations, which in itself increased my stress. And the price I paid was high.

A professional suggested once that people like me, whom he diagnosed as Socially Phobic, belong in backroom research laboratories and computer labs. Before moving to the country I worked as a data analyst on a research project. We had a four or five person team meeting for two hours on Tuesday mornings to update each other, and outside of that meeting I never had to talk with anybody! The rest of the week I worked at home and in the computer lab analysing data. My wife helped me with the data entry, which reduced my workload and hours. I did talk to her, but I liked that. It was the best suited job I have ever had! 

So if you struggle with burnout, please be careful. Be gentle and kind to yourself. Keep your eyes open for a creative solution that honours your own true beautiful makeup.

(Edit Nov. 20/2010: I originally wrote this because a blogging friend seemed to be going through a burnout, but it turned out to be a different medical problem so I modified the post accordingly).