It's Good to Talk
An honest post about burnout, an eating disorder diagnosis, and why taking that first step is always worth it.
The following post is an update of something I first wrote back in 2016 for my personal blog but never shared. I’ve updated the content to reflect on what’s happened over the last few years on both a global and personal scale.
The content is very personal to me and a little bit meandering at times. But I’m sharing this in the hope that there are some lessons in there for everyone, or even just for someone.
If this does trigger somebody, or if anyone wants to chat to discuss experiences that may correlate with your own, then feel free to get in touch without prejudice. I’m not an expert, but I’m happy to listen and point in the direction of what’s helped me.
- Bluesky: @gbbns.co
- Email: chris@gbbns.co
Motivation. When it’s not there, life is tough. Everything is a struggle. Things you once enjoyed start to become a chore. Sound familiar to anyone?
Several years ago I hit this very problem, and it’s taken until now for me to speak up about it.
I (nearly) realised, but never followed it up
In 2014 I’d hit an all-time low with ‘the internet’, to the point where I was ready to completely jack it all in and change my career. I even attended uni open days.
I don’t know when, or what, triggered this. But looking back it was a combination of many things that all came together and hit me hard. It was a worrying feeling, especially as I didn’t truly understand why.
The ‘eureka’ moment came during a session — “Burnout Is Real And It’s Coming To Get You” — at DDD North. It struck a chord with some of what I’d been dealing with.
I remember being sat next to a few developers on the day who were cynical about the whole thing. It’s easy to judge folk when you’re not in that situation, but the lack of empathy shown was shocking.
On the train back home I started to think about what Richard had talked about, and then for the first time in what seemed like an age I got my notebook out and started to scribble notes down.
I realise now that this was the start (or at least what I thought was the start) of the long road out of the dip I was in. It helped to get things out of my head, to see them in a physical form, and to remove the noise from my thoughts.
Now, let’s fast forward a few years
2019 was the start of the latest chapter in my story and it began in a pretty innocuous manner. I’d damaged my knee moving some Christmas decorations and had an appointment to see what I’d done.
As I sat in the car I felt anxious. I was trying to psyche myself up to tell the doctor a secret that I’d kept locked away from everyone for nearly 20 years.
The following timeline isn’t a direct comparison to 2014: it’s more a potted history of exactly what, and how much, has happened over the last few years.
2019 — Eating disorder diagnosis and Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT)
I realise that is quite the sentence. The eating disorder is the thing I was psyching myself up to tell the doctor about. And do you want to know a secret? I nearly didn’t mention it. I spoke to the doctor about my knee, and had the doctor not ended by asking “Is there something else bothering you?” then I would probably have walked out and continued as if nothing was wrong.
2020 — Lockdown, big change in personal circumstances, moved jobs
2021 — New house, temporary mental respite, cycling, new job (again), then Christmas: this is where things really started to nosedive
2022 — Breakdown, counselling, eating disorder relapse, the realisation that I did actually need help and support
Next steps?
Wow. If you’re still here reading, you might be wondering what the point of this post is.
It’s certainly not some narcissistic woe-is-me post. It’s one I’m very passionate about, and that’s mental health: being open about it where possible.
Taking that first step is hard. But it’s an important step to take. It’s hard because you’re aware you want, or need, to change, but you’re scared and anxious about what’s ahead. Me of 2014 never fully realised this, never spoke to anyone, and ultimately never fully healed.
One of the quotes that’s helped at various points:
“You don’t have to see the whole staircase — just take the first step.”
I’m nearing the end of my counselling sessions and can’t rate them enough. This experience might not be shared by everyone, and if not, the advice I was given by a friend was to ask for a different counsellor.
The sessions have directly led me to seek out more specialist advice and treatment, but I’ll save that story for another time.
Also, I want to go back to the simple question the doctor asked me: “Is there something else bothering you?”
This is something that every single one of us can ask a friend or colleague if we think something isn’t quite right. You might not get the right answer there and then, but from my experience, the fact that someone has asked will mean the world.
I’m lucky in that I’ve had an amazingly supportive line manager who regularly chats and checks in with me, as well as colleagues who have noticed when something wasn’t right and sent a private message to check in. Let me tell you: it felt incredible.
And so it goes back to the title of the post: “It’s good to talk”.
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