Burnout

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Emily stared at the flame for a moment, then went to relax on the old sofa. She’d needed this getaway more than anyone could know. When her friend Laura had mentioned her uncle’s estate was selling the property for a steal, Emily jumped at it. Her own personal retreat was just what she needed! She hadn’t had a vacation in as long as she could remember. Oh, she used her vacation hours, but there was never any real vacation. Those hours were spent running errands or taking care of someone else’s needs, never hers. She felt her eyes glisten and clenched her jaw. This isn’t a pity party trip; this is for me to relax and unwind, she thought angrily. It felt like she was always angry these days. She could scarce remember a day when she wasn’t pissed at something or someone. It’d been years since she felt lighthearted, had energy or hadn’t walked around in a perpetual state of weariness. She’d worked as low-level management for a large health system for almost a decade. During that decade the all-consuming needs of everyone and everything around her had crushed the heart and soul right out of her. She’d quipped many times over the years that she felt like she’d been told to “make bricks without straw,” referencing the Bible verse in which overworked enslaved people had their work made impossibly hard. She realized that was a ridiculous analogy and an insult to people who’d suffered through slavery, but she couldn’t think of any other way to express her frustration at the time. She made a good salary, and she was grateful for the style of living it afforded. It was the never-ending pressure and futileness of it all. On other rough days, she’d add an image of Sisyphus to her email signature, signifying that she too felt like the mythical man doomed to an eternity of pushing a boulder up a hill. She didn’t have a stereotypical high-stress job like a nurse or a doctor. Her stress came from the fact that there was never any respite from it. When funding cuts and downsizing hit the system, her team was cut in half. As the manager, she was the only person that was salary and the only option to absorb the extra operational hours needed to keep things going. Besides, she was the only one over her tiny department, and if anyone had any questions, she had to be available. Right on cue, the phone rang. It was another call from the hospital, another mundane question that could be easily investigated, yet staff always decided to call her. After all, she’d stressed so many times that she was happy to always be available. What was she supposed to say? I’m off work, please don’t call me? That sounded heavenly, but wasn’t practical for the survival of her department, and she feared any perception that she was unavailable would threaten her job security. There were too many people depending on her for her to take such a risk. She answered the question with a fake smile and feigned delight in being able to assist and hung up the phone. Instantaneously, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Then she heard it. The almost imperceptible whisper that urged her to shut it out. Shut it out. You can’t listen anymore. It’s too much. She wasn’t sure if it was all in her head or she’d actually heard an external sound. She’d developed tinnitus years ago, and the incessant ringing always increased with her stress-induced hypertension. No matter, she decided to enjoy a glass of wine and a good romance novel. She opened her favorite bottle of Malbec which waited ready on the coffee table then settled in for some self-care. The phone rang again, with a different staff person asking the exact same question. Just as she’d done a thousand times, she took care of the caller and hung up, feeling wearier than ever. The whisper returned, this time incessantly repeating it’s too much…

Something deep within Emily snapped. She snatched up the open wine key in one swift movement and thrust it into first her left ear, then her right. Although the pain was agonizing, she didn’t cry out but closed her eyes to clear the tears and enjoy the blissful silence. Determined to salvage what little of herself remained, she forced herself to take deep, ragged breaths and focused again on the book she’d wanted to read for years. Again, the phone rang. Although Emily couldn’t hear it, the light and vibration caught her attention. The hospital, again. Unable to hear the caller, she shrieked in frustration and threw the phone across the room. Then almost instantly, she caved to the pressure to respond and ran to retrieve the phone. The phone screen flashed again and again from email notifications pouring in to pull her attention from herself. Then the whisper came again. It’s too much! The pressing reminder that she couldn’t tolerate anymore. She’d reached her limit and exceeded it. The whisper crescendoed until her mind screamed at her. Frenzied to end the oppressiveness and sobbing pleas to herself to cease the self-harm, yet incapable of restraining herself, she gouged at her eyes with the corkscrew. The pain was so intense that she vomited and thought she might faint. Whether the phone rang, or her heightened sensitivity perceived the vibration, Emily was sure that damned phone went off again. Consumed with ending the crushing frustration, the ache in her soul, the physical pain, she groped blindly. Distraught at her miserable situation, she pawed at her surroundings, desperately trying to find something, anything to end her pitiful existence. After recovering from several falls, Emily finally stumbled to the window where the candle burned. Her wild swiping knocked over the candle, which tumbled against the curtains causing them to combust and spread rapidly until the room was fully ablaze. The flames singed at her from every direction and the thick smoke choked her. Unwilling to fight for survival, Emily lay on the floor, willing the inferno to take her.

The cabin is long gone now. The wilderness has reclaimed the property. But the memory of Emily is embedded in the land. They say campers that go to those woods today may go in search of tranquility but might find something else. They say if you build a campfire, you might hear Emily there. She’ll come to you, whisper to those suffering burnout, and remind you that a person can only take so much…