← Don't Cut Your Own Bangs
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You know that feeling when you are exhausted, but somehow you're still functioning. You're answering emails, making dinner, showing up, smiling, keeping all the balls in the air, but internally it feels like your nervous system is running on fumes, like you haven't taken a full breath in weeks. The hardest part about burnout isn't the exhaustion. It's the fear that admitting you're struggling will confirm the worst thoughts you have about yourself. That maybe you were never capable of holding the life you really wanted in the first place. The marriage you longed for, the kids you prayed for, the career you strived for. Welcome back to don't cut your own bangs, the podcast for high functioning humans with big feelings who are trying to make sense of what's happening inside them without needing to burn their whole lives down or run away from home to do it. I'm Daniela Ireland, a therapist, speaker, storyteller, and someone else who spends a lot of time with people who look incredibly capable on the outside, who are quietly caring more than anyone realizes. And today is the official beginning of a three part series that I cannot stop thinking about. The series is lovingly called you were never meant to live like a machine. But because I think a lot of us, especially thoughtful, responsible, capable people, have gotten really good at overriding ourselves, Calling survival productivity, calling depletion, discipline, calling emotional disconnection, just being really busy. And over the next three episodes, I want to talk honestly about burnout, about our nervous systems, about shame, pressure, about ambition, and about what becomes possible, what opens up when we stop treating ourselves like machines and start listening to ourselves again. And today we are starting with something that I think sits underneath so much of burnout. The conversation really before burnout, the fear. The fear that exhaustion means failure. This element of burnout is one that I've brushed up against before, but never really looked at. I looked at fear and shame as one thing, burnout, talking about burnout, recovering from burnout, treating burnout, preventing burnout as another. But I think what we're talking about right here is that bridge that takes the thing that we're afraid of acknowledging, the thing that we work so hard to avoid looking at. And the end result of a life spent managing and running from that very thing. The fear that, okay, we got the thing we wanted most in this world and what if we're not capable of holding it? And I have of recently been given some really big opportunities that are exactly what me from 3 months ago wrote down in a journal about, talked to my husband about. I have spent so much time Dreaming and wishing and journaling and creating and setting good intentions and then acting on those intentions, like being a diligent, self examined, very emotionally mature person. And it hasn't been until recently where I've been on the cusp of actually stepping into these new and exciting opportunities that I felt the old familiar buzz of burnout. And I. I don't know if it's time, perspective, practice, or a combination thereof, but I am, in the days leading up to stepping back into an opportunity that I really, really, really want. I was also dealing with communication challenges within my marriage that I also really want and was feeling like my kids were climbing all over me and I couldn't have a second to breathe and I couldn't take a deep breath, which were also both of them answered prayers for things I truly and deeply wanted. And so I found myself living the reality that a past version of me would have given anything for at the time. If she had had a crystal ball and seen the reality that I was living in in the last couple weeks, she would have been like, hallelujah, here we go. Okay, everything we want's gonna happen. And then there was this moment where I'm sitting in the reality that I created, that I wanted and in many aspects still want, and was in a familiar buzzy feeling of burnout. And I want to understand not just the burnout, and not limit my goals or not give myself a hard time for having a hard time, but really taking a deeper look at what's beneath that. Because I think saying the thing out loud, what if I'm not capable of holding the thing I thought I wanted most? That's a new perspective for me. I know I'm not alone in that fear. And I think talking about this, opening it up, getting curious about it, creating some dialogue and connection around it, some language around it, is going to give us all hopefully a little bit more relief and an opportunity to be a lot kinder to ourselves. One element in particular that I think is a part or adds an additional pressure to this type of fear. What if I'm not capable of holding the thing I've worked so hard for? And this other layer too, which is I got what I asked for. I should be so happy. I should be able to function through this. I should be more grateful. And that particular type of should, I think sometimes it takes getting exactly what you thought you wanted to really know. Okay, now I have all of the information. Do I still want this thing? And how can I look at that with curiosity and compassion and not self criticism? Which we know. If we've been listening to this podcast for a while, we know self criticism and shame lead us nowhere good. I started thinking about how many people I've worked with over the years, how many clients I've worked with, or even friends who were struggling so deeply and privately inside themselves for something they desperately wanted. Women who spent years trying to become mothers, grieving every month, hoping, praying, longing, and then finally becoming mothers, only. Only to quietly find themselves feeling exhausted, overwhelmed, touched out, lonely, emotionally fried, isolated, terrified. And then almost within the same breath, ashamed for struggling. Because somewhere underneath all of that weight is this belief that if this is hard for me, I must be failing somehow or worse. Maybe I was really never capable of doing this in the first place, but now this is my life, so. So we must keep soldiering on. And I don't think this only happens in motherhood. I think in careers, relationships, creativity, leadership, business ownership, visibility. Because the thing that is exhausting you is also something deeply wanted by you. And admitting you're struggling can feel dangerous. I have been wanting to get back into public speaking for about the last year or so, but I didn't know how I wanted to pursue it and I really wasn't sure in what perspective. I just remember it was one of those things that lived in my journal a lot, or it was in my daydreaming walks. Like, gosh, wouldn't it be nice? Wouldn't it be nice to get back on stage again? Wouldn't it be nice to connect with large groups again? And wouldn't it be nice to get creative and put presentations together and just the energy of all that I. Because it had. There had been enough time. I was remembering all of the fond memories of my old performing days and speaking days and thought that would be really fun. And almost no sooner did I start thinking about that opportunities came knocking. Now, not literally knocking in my inbox, but opportunities came knocking and before I knew it I had six events scheduled within six weeks time, which was incredible. It was like my cup runneth over with opportunities. It felt really thrilling and exciting and it all flowed so easily and I usually will trust if things feel easy or if things are flowing, that's a really good sign to keep going for me. So I was going along with it and then it was right about like the two week period before the first presentation when I'm practicing and putting my thoughts together and then actually imagining myself doing it where this fear, this like wobbly tension of can I actually do this? Can I actually do this? In addition to all the other things that I'm also doing, like how do I keep all of these balls spinning? How do I keep everything going? I don't want to take anything away from my kiddos. I don't want to take anything away from my marriage. It just question, question, question, question. And then it went from this exciting thing that came that I. The exact thing that I wanted to, to feeling really shaky and uncertain and tense and wobbly and then this old familiar feeling of doubt. Can you really hold the thing you're asking for? And what I tried to do in that time was remind myself that there is always discomfort in change, even change that's wanted. There's always discomfort in change. And for anyone listening who has been pregnant, I know that everyone who has ever been pregnant, there are as many varied pregnancies as there are human beings that exist. Because we all came through in the same way. For me, there were, I think I had a pretty, I'll say in the normative range. It wasn't overly uncomfortable, but I definitely didn't wake up every day feeling glorious and in love with being pregnant. I was somewhere in the middle, probably a lot of us are. And that was another moment where I was so deeply grateful for the positive pregnancy test and was so overcome with like the miracle of it all. And then there were some really uncomfortable realities that I couldn't have foreseen, couldn't know until I was in it. And I was like, oh, okay, well, this is part of what I asked for. Can I allow these two things to be true? That this is absolutely what I want and it's hard, or with regard to public speaking, this is absolutely the thing that I want to and feel ready for. And I'm terrified that I'm not going to be able to do a good job. And then what does that mean if I end up doing it and it doesn't work out? And I think this duality, this tug of war is what can cause burnout to carry so much shame for high functioning people. Because if the thing exhausting you is something the world values like motherhood, leadership, success, ambition, caregiving or achievement, then there is this unexpected pressure to feel grateful because you got the golden ticket. Like, if you admit that it's hard, then you're ungrateful. And if you're ungrateful, then you're bad. Because that is what being ungrateful is, right? So instead of acknowledging the exhaustion, we override it, we optimize around it, we push through, we overperform through it, we caffeinate through it or we scroll through it, but either way we have to keep moving. Because stopping long enough to really acknowledge I can't keep doing this, like this can feel terrifying because if I let this go, do I have to let everything go? We live in a culture that is wants us to optimize so that we can produce more and that we can consume more. And there is no shortage of tools, tips, apps, experts, books, processes, programs, artificial intelligence to help eliminate friction so that you can keep going and keep producing. But oftentimes what I find, it's not just the tasking of life that bogs us down, but the larger emotional current that is charging us forward to have to keep producing. Because what happens if we slow down? And I'm not even saying we should abandon everything, but if we don't allow some awareness and some curiosity to enter into that dialogue, the internal conversation, we're just going to keep plowing forward thinking that what we need is a new day planner or another notepad, or we need another strategy. Some of which may be true, but I can tell you I work with a lot of people who have all of those things in spades ten times over and they are still navigating burnout. So is this a function of productivity or is it a function of, of the mind? And the tricky, tricky thing about burnout, especially in high functioning people, is that externally it can look like you're doing great because you're still showing up, you're getting things done, you're helping people, you're producing, you're achieving, you're hitting all these milestones, you make a great post about it, but internally it feels like your body is quietly waving the white flag, like you're living in this constant state of low grade depletion. No, not collapsed, just never fully restored. And I think one of the clearest signs that something is off is not always the exhaustion itself, it's the disappearance of delight. You stop laughing as easily. Music doesn't hit you the same if you even have time to listen. You eat standing up over the sink. You multitask through things that you used to enjoy. You stop feeling connected to beauty, to creativity, to softness, to play. And maybe you're even laughing hearing those things, like who has time for that? Not because you don't want them, but because your nervous system has quietly shifted into survival mode. I recently had a session with a client where the job, the spouse, the house, the children, it was like check, check. She executed everything on her five year plan. We've been working together over five years. Everything in her five year plan was here. And she worked really hard for every promotion, for the communication and the connection that she and her husband have been committed to for her pregnancy. It wasn't an easy road to get there, and they did. And now they're working on baby number two. And the last three sessions we've had, she's had a really hard time coming to terms with the fact that she is absolutely, profoundly and deeply burnt out. And she doesn't know what needs to give. Because part of what's driving that is if I let anything go, I might lose all of it. She's not carrying around this heavy thunder blanket of depression. It's a softer sadness. It's more wistful. It's more. You can feel the sense that something is missing. And the thing that's missing is me enjoying any of it. And I know she's not alone in it either. The body knows burnout long before the mind is willing to admit it, because the signs usually start quietly. You are replaying conversations. You're feeling emotionally brittle. You're fantasizing about disappearing for the weekend, running away. You're snapping more easily. You're feeling touched out or numb. And one of the saddest parts is that so many deeply capable people are experiencing all of this while simultaneously telling themselves or the people closest to them that they. They're fine. Or I just need to get through this week. Or I just need to get through this deadline or this project or the school year. But sometimes just getting through becomes a way of life. And then it just rolls and rolls. And honestly, this is exactly why I think it matters, to have somewhere to actually hear yourself clearly. Because when everything stays spinning in your head, it becomes really hard to tell what's pressure, what's fear, what's exhaustion, and what's actually true. That's a big part of why I created the Treasure Journal. Not to journal perfectly, but to create a space where you can reconnect with your own voice again. And that's also why I wrote my children's book, Wrestling a Walrus. Because learning how to stay with big feelings instead of fighting yourself for having them changes everything. You can find both in the show notes. One of the things I keep coming back to lately is this. Every single time you step into a new version of your life, there will be a season where you feel like an amateur again, even if you've done something similar before. I've never parented this version of my children before. I've never built this version of my business Before. I've never navigated this version of visibility before. And I think what happens to so many capable people is that every time they master one one level of life, they immediately focus on the next thing. But they haven't figured it out yet, which creates this constant feeling of I should be better, I should be better. But you've never been this version of you before. I've never been this version of a mother of two. I've never been the version of a mother of a five year old and a two and a half year old. Every time my kids become more of who they are, every time my husband reaches a new milestone and reaches for something else that excites him or creates a new hobby that causes expansion and creates a new growth edge for everyone. And I'm not done creating my new goals either. And so part of what I'm reconciling and getting to and trying to get to better terms with is that every time I reach for something new, it will feel new. And of course, with a growth edge, there's learning, and with learning there's discomfort. But that doesn't mean you're failing, it just means you're growing. This actually makes me think a little bit back to my ballroom dance days. So part of my role, the type of teacher I was, I don't think I've ever talked about this before. I was what's called a new student specialist. So that meant that my specialty and what I was trained to do was help brand new people who had never danced before, had little to no dance experience or believed they couldn't get over that fear and crush their first wedding dance, or crush the father daughter dance or crush. Learning to salsa or foxtrot at a wedding. Like whatever their goal was, there were certain steps and a procedure of steps that was followed to help them achieve success without doubting themselves in the process. And so the first thing that we needed to learn was what's the pattern? Where do our feet go? So for rumba, okay, I'm going to do here, I'm going to step here, I'm going to step here, I'm going to step here. Great. I've done a box. Fabulous. A lot of dancers have a basic box step. Then now that we know where the feet go, now there's the rhythm. When and how do my feet get there? So we start talking about timing. So with rumba, I'm going to step slowly and then I'm going to have a quick and a quick and a slow. But meanwhile the pattern stays the same. So where my feet go stays the same. And then I add the rhythm, and that changes when it gets there. Then we start talking about what's the footwork within that pattern, with that rhythm. So you start from the bottom of your tippy toes, and you work all the way up to the very top of your head. But every layer of technique, every new skill that's introduced, you have to go back to the basic pattern and practice that skill through every single layer of learning. And I love using that as an example, because in life, I think it is always that way. I had to discover what it meant to be a mother and then take that pattern with my firstborn, my daughter, back through the tips of my toes, back through every stage of my life. What does it mean to be a mother to this person at this job, with this place, at this age, with this help? Right. I was able to embrace that concept so well as a teacher. But being a student, it's vulnerable. It's vulnerable to put yourself in the position of being a beginner. But on the other side of that is everything I want to learn, everything I want to experience. If I knew everything I wanted to know, and I had already been to everywhere I would ever want to go, and if I've achieved everything I would ever hope to achieve in life, well, then what's left? I think we overestimate in the pursuit of comfort. We overestimate that the actual challenge of play and growing and connecting, that's where the zest is. That's where the spice of life is. And more specifically, to burnout, I think the first step of healing is not rest. And when it comes to burnout, I think the first step of healing, burnout is not rest. I think it's honesty. Being able to say this is too much. I can't continue this way. I can't keep operating like this. And ideally, being able to say it to someone safe enough that your nervous system doesn't immediately panic that you're going to be punished for saying it out loud. And if not, maybe it's a journal. I think for a lot of people, acknowledging overwhelm feels like failure. But overwhelm is not failure. It's information. Your body isn't betraying you. Your emotions aren't betraying you. They may actually be trying to guide you back home to yourself. I find this to be true a lot of times for people who are rewarded for being the strong one, rewarded for being the leader, rewarded for being the one that people can come to and always having an answer. Because if that's a big part not just of your role and your value, but your identity, then acknowledging that you're hitting a wall can absolutely threaten not just what you do, but how you see yourself. If you've been listening to this episode and thinking, okay, but what do I actually do with what I'm feeling? I built something for that. It's called the Banks Club. It's not therapy and it's not a therapy replacement. It's also not just more content. It's a softer landing place for the in between moments where you're trying to reconnect with yourself in real time. There are voice note meditations, walking meditations, guided reflections, journaling prompts, and deeper companion pieces designed to help you actually apply this work to your real life. And alongside this series, I'm also releasing a companion reflection over at Substack every Wednesday. So if this conversation is stirring something up in you and you just want a little bit more context, a little bit more detail, that's where we'll keep going deeper together. You can find all of that in the show notes. And these, these are the kinds of conversations that I wish more workplaces and leadership teams or caregiving spaces women's groups would be having out loud because so many deeply capable people are quietly carrying an unsustainable load while smiling through it and getting to have these conversations together in a room in real time. Oh, that's what I love about speaking events. So if you take nothing else from today, let it be this. Struggling with something does not mean you are never meant for it. And acknowledging that something is hard does not make you weak. It makes you honest. And I think so many people are walking around exhausted not because they're incapable, but because. But because they've spent years believing that they have to override themselves in order to deserve the life that they want. But you were never meant to live like a machine. You are allowed to be human while becoming. And before you go, I want you to leave with one question. What part of your exhaustion have you been potentially afraid to acknowledge because of what it could be saying about you? Just let that sit with you and next week we're gonna go deeper into something that sits right underneath burnout for a lot of people that the fear of stopping, the fear that if you stop moving, stop producing, stop pushing even for a moment, everything's going to fall apart. We're talking about why the thing you're avoiding might actually be the doorway of what you need most. I'll see you next time. And in the meantime, put down the scissors and don't cut your own things.