Book Friends Forever

The Trauma of Burnout By Dr. Claire Plumbly, Read By Rebecca Courtney

Our human nervous system has the power to cope with high stress but not when it's been ground down by the relentless stimuli of today’s world. Over time, these persistent demands leave us burnt out because our nervous system is stuck in survival mode. In this mode, we have reduced capacity for rational thinking and less capacity to care. It becomes hard to make decisions, rest, solve problems, be mindful and set boundaries. We withdraw from the people and activities that used to light us up. We slip into autopilot, making us prone to mistakes, and toxic behaviors that impact professional and personal relationships. Drawing on polyvagal theory and her professional insights as a trauma therapist working with clients experiencing anxiety, trauma and burnout, Clinical Psychologist Dr. Claire Plumbly will help you understand: Why stress is different from burnout How burnout stifles your ability to interact, think clearly and be productive or creative. Why you get stuck in burnout and cannot ‘think’ your way out of it or engage in activities you know could help you. Cultural beliefs and psychological patterns that cause burnout How to soothe your nervous system back to full capacity using techniques and compassion. By the end of this book, you will have tools to thrive amidst the challenges of modern life, at work, at home and through positive interactions and relationships.

Duration:: 4m
Broadcast on:: 14 Jan 2025
Audio Format:: other

Anika came to me several months after being signed off work sick when she became physically unwell and started having panic attacks. She was a senior nurse on the ward who had gradually works her way up the ladder. I asked her to describe her typical working day. She told me she'd been getting up at 5.30am to clean the house before work, and at the end of her shift after the ward handovers when everyone else headed home, she had started returning to the ward, driven by a constant sense of guilt and duty and a need to finish whatever work she had started, rather than handover a half completed job to a colleague. Inevitably, once back on the ward, she got sucked into doing new tasks as well. Her colleagues would forget that she was working beyond her allotted shift. When she eventually arrived home, it was late in the evening. Her days ended as they began, under the cover of darkness. The family had already eaten. She reheated dinner and, with no time, left to relax and engage with her partner and children, she went to bed exhausted. Her mind still buzzing, she lay in bed and picked up her phone, and before she knew it, she'd purchased another five items of clothing she didn't need. Anika referred to herself as a swan, paddling like mad under the water, but seeming me calm above it. She groaned so accustomed to the high level of stress and her overworking to compensate that she had lost sight of how stretched she was. "I never felt I'd done all I could," she told me. "There was always more, so I didn't think I could stop. I didn't even have enough spare headspace for my partner and kids, to be honest. I lost touch with what they were up to. My work was all-consuming, and I was preoccupied with the needs of my patients and making sure I didn't lose my job." She moved through her home routines in a haze, and at work she was swept into the tide of emergencies, routine checks, and the endless stream of paperwork that marked her days. She was driven by a sense of duty and an ingrained belief that she was indispensable. The niggles of life, those small, persistent issues that once felt manageable, now loomed large, magnified by her weariness. The solace, she used to find in organising her space and clearing her inbox to give herself a sense of control amid the chaos, no longer provided relief, and she had turned to quick relief options that she knew were less healthy, but she couldn't seem to reign in. Drinking more alcohol, compulsive social media scrolling, or internet shopping. It took several months of work for her to start feeling better, as her body gradually unfrows and climbed down from her overwhelm. Why had Anika failed to see how stressed she was for so long? Why hadn't she been able to take a break before her body forced this upon her? Anika's experiences matched with the three dimensions of occupational burnout, as defined by American Professor Christina Maslak, a social psychologist who became interested in the detached concern she was seeing in caregiving professionals and whose work has been foundational to our current conceptualisation and measurement of burnout. 1. Physical and emotional exhaustion Feeling worn out, drained, or lethargic. You might feel heavy or sluggish or emotionally as though you have nothing left to give. People in burnout often report feeling stressed and overwhelmed, irritable, or depressed. This can often develop into demotivation, or reduced passion for work. 2. Feeling of detachment, referred to as depersonalisation, an experience of disengaging from work or life, sometimes known as compassion fatigue, or a more generalised difficulty in feeling and numbness. This was what Maslak described as "detached concern" and it can also look like cynicism or emotional avoidance. 3. Reduced personal accomplishment or sense of ineffectiveness. You may become less effective on what you are doing due to the above issues. For example, exhaustion and brain fog can make it hard to concentrate or think clearly. Higher procrastination may mean jobs are avoided or rushing may cause mistakes. Cynicism and emotional exhaustion may mean that you do tasks but aren't paying close attention to detail or are cutting corners as a coping mechanism. You may also believe you are no good at what you do and be highly critical of your efforts and work.