Easily Two Levels of Exhaustion

One of these days I hope to learn that just because I start doing something, that doesn't mean I need to keep doing it until the heat death of the universe.

I mean, logically I know that to be the case, barring certain biological constants like breathing. I am free to give up on anything I want at any point in time for any reason.

Unfortunately for me, this is where things get challenging, because there are very loud parts of my personality that insist that I am not allowed to stop doing things that I have previously agreed to do.

Even when the ramifications are entirely manageable.

This works in my favour sometimes.

I'm good at following patterns that I've established, I'm reliable at making sure that certain things keep happening on a certain schedule and I'm tenacious when presented with a problem that I have emotionally committed to solving.

It works against me just as much though, because it means I hesitate to start doing new things if I feel like I still have stuff on the burner and I push myself well past when most people would just stop doing something because they've lost interest.

The good news is that I think I'm getting better at giving up on stuff, and I've got a wonderful concrete example of doing exactly that, along with some ominous foreshadowing.

Example first though.

Back in 2021 when I started writing this blog I was both running and participating in D&D sessions, typically weekly, having just left a job where I used D&D as a way to create social connection between various parts of the business.

At the start of this year, I gave up running D&D sessions.

Ostensibly it was supposed to just be a six-month break, but it's six months later and I just don't miss it, so I've got no interest in firing it up again.

I mean, don't get me wrong, there are bits that I miss, like the cool emergent stories and the general social connection with a group of people, but I don't miss the pressure to do a good job, to be the glue that holds everything together or the obligation to keep going every week even when I don't feel like it.

Honestly, I wouldn't have lasted as long as I did without my wonderful wife, who did all the background administrative work while I just did the fun stuff, like creating the overarching narrative and improvising every time our players just ignored said narrative completely and insisted on adopting the unimportant background goblin who I named Glom on a whim.

I do worry that giving up on something like running D&D sessions is a sign that I'm burnt out, not necessarily from D&D itself, but just in general.

And I'm pretty sure I know where that burnout is coming from.

Working at Atlassian is intense and it's not getting any less so as my tenure grows, because expectations keep going up and the performance evaluation processes make it feel like there is a literal sword of Damocles dangling above my head all the time.

I very fondly remember the feeling I had when I left my old job. A sense of relief that was almost palpable, a growing realisation that I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, because I no longer had to care about the things that people told me I needed to care about.

Of course, I immediately went out and got another job because I needed money, but still, it was pretty sweet for that handful of weeks.

I suppose what I'm rambling about here is that giving up on stuff is healthy because you can't just keep doing everything forever. You need to take stock, re-evaluate your priorities and make sure you're making room for the stuff that matters.

I just hope I'm giving up on the right things.