If you ended 2024 feeling burned out and exhausted, you are not alone. Last year was a challenging year, and I was right there with everyone riding the Struggle Bus.
In October of 2022, I simultaneously hit what I feel was a high point and a low point. The best way I can describe what triggered this tenuous day was that life was thrilling and fearful.
My book Loved Just As I Am had been out for a while and was selling well. Many of my friends, family, and community residents had bought copies, and I would occasionally run into them. Always gracious, I often heard feedback like;
“Hey, congratulations on the book. I have not read it, but I plan to…”
“Hey, I bought your book but haven’t read it. Congratulations!
“Hey, famous author, congratulations. I heard about your book, and I plan to read it. I haven’t had time to read your book, but congratulations!”
Loved Just As I Am Book Signing Party
And then there were the people I had known for years who delivered nothing by awkward silence. There were no questions about anything I wrote or any acknowledgment of what I had written as a book. On a few occasions, when I was with someone close to me and the subject of my book was the same, it seemed like they were not themselves because of something they knew.
I recalled some of these situations at my book signing in July 2022. In my opinion, it went better than expected. Many of the topics I wrote about are uncomfortable and even considered taboo to many in my community. Views on topics like sexual assault, domestic abuse, and interracial relationships are best left unsaid or contained behind closed doors. However, I received no pushback or negativity during the afternoon of my Book Celebration. However, it was mainly my mom’s friends, and anyone who knows her knows how loved she is.
No hard questions about my stories, just lots of pleasantries.
Some may conclude that this silence was because it is such a well-written book that no questions are needed.
Some may have felt that the topics were unnecessary, or I would be hurt or offended if asked.
Or perhaps just because the issues discussed in the book were important to me didn’t make it essential to others.
That day and the months that followed were busy and exciting. Writing a book is hard, launching a book is fun, marketing a book is grueling, and I was “feeling all the feels.”
I was extremely grateful as I moved forward with getting my book in front of the people I thought could find comfort and validation in my work.
But the pressure of being a wife, mother, and owner of a private therapy practice, on top of all the demands of marketing and selling a book, began to take a toll on me. I was determined to “do it all” and neglected to ask for help even when nearing a breaking point.
Ultimately, it led to me calling 911 for myself.
Since October of 2022, I have gone nonstop business owner, seeing clients even more busy than usual; self-marketing a book is an entire job by itself; my daughter was getting ready to get engaged, and both were moving into our home to complete their college internships. I was busier than ever at my Practice, helping other couples, and my husband and I were now working more apart than ever. This time, we were aware of how difficult that is with our intimacy deficits, but because of all of the circumstances, we were apart more than ever. I was exhausted and confused and begged for direction from the one I trusted the most.
God, what do you want me to do?
All I knew to do was what I had done my entire life. Pray and read the bile for comfort. There were nights I slept with my bible and nights I fell asleep listening to sermons. I remember in the back of my mind when a professional suggested that I not do that “too much.” I love Jesus, but I never thought I was Jesus.
I think it was my hectic schedule, equally hectic private life, and the withdrawals from quitting smoking that finally mentally and emotionally broke me.
It was like an unseen enemy was using all my fear and trauma against me in some twisted spiritual warfare. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t stop crying. Desperate for help, I texted my neighbor and prayer warrior, Fran, asking if she could come over. I was terrified. I believe that is the night I called my Uncle Charles. Amazingly, he picked up and did his best to comfort me. But I was in the throes of the most powerful anxiety attack I had ever experienced.
By this time, my husband was freaking out because he had never seen me this panicked. I didn’t feel like I was allowed to be weak. I had never felt so alone, fearful, and painful.
The EMTs arrived quickly and bundled me into the ambulance. Once at the hospital, I finally felt like I could breathe again, and the pressure of the tonnage of responsibility began to lift slightly.
This moment was the wake-up call that I needed. It was time to instill new boundaries, off-load some of my work, and most importantly, ask for help.
I’m sure plenty of people are surprised that the therapist who makes a living counseling others on navigating a complicated life can’t seemingly figure that out for herself. But I promise you this level of burnout and overwhelm is very common among those who dedicate their lives to helping others better theirs.
Even the guides need guidance sometimes.
Even the helpers need help sometimes.
Even the comfort-givers need comfort sometimes.
As I experienced what I was going through that October, it made me firmly believe that I needed to be even more compassionate for people who have no one or no proper support.
It’s never to late to ask for help and please don’t ever think it’s a flaw or sign of weakness. It takes tremendous strength and courage to be vulnerable and ask for help.
Please don’t suffer alone. God is always with you. If you are struggling, reach out to someone and let them know. Talk to your pastor, your mom, your bestie, and better yet, a trusted therapist.
I see you. I hear you. And you are not in this alone.
