Title: I was in denial about burnout for a long time, thinking that it was something that I just have to push myself through, and everything would be okay when it's over.  But I recently read the description from jacquesm (http://jacquesmattheij.com/Are+you+suffering+from+burn-out) and it hit me hard. I'm in a state of shock over how much control I've ceded to this madness.  Now the work is winding down, many co-workers have left for greener pastures, and my productivity is asymptotically approaching zero.<p>I've just asked my boss for a 1-year sabbatical, but I haven't chosen a start date for it, and I'm already suffering from analysis paralysis over what to do.  I'm not ready for a new job or project -- I'm in no shape to work.  I could travel, but my problems will just follow me around the world.  I could volunteer, but I'm so emotionally empty that there's no heart for me to pour anywhere.  I could do anything... and yet I'm somehow mentally and physically exhausted from doing little more than clock-watching and perfunctory bullshit (I wasn't this way before and can't believe that I've descended to this).<p>I don't have any goals or plans (or if I ever did, I've long since forgotten them).  The perfect opportunity could be staring me in the face and I wouldn't notice it, or I'd talk myself out of it for fear of screwing it up.<p>Meanwhile, I've been self-medicating with classical music, long walks along the beach, science fiction novels, Internet addiction, and LOTS of sleep (9+ hours/day).  It numbs the pain a bit, but otherwise doesn't seem to be helping.<p>Even more disturbing is that lately I've noticed myself engaging in perverse escape fantasies about what I might do (and then I'd catch myself and have a <i>Who are you kidding?!</i> moment):<p>- I'd ride my bike across the continent from Vancouver to Halifax (<i>I don't own a bicycle and haven't ridden one in years</i>)<p>- I'd travel to Antarctica and cuddle with penguins (<i>I'm complaining about the unbearable winter cold in Southern California</i>)<p>- I'd join a grassroots protest movement and bring down oppressive regimes (<i>I'm too scared even to donate to Wikileaks</i>)<p>- I'd dedicate myself to volunteer work in the places of the world most in need of help (<i>I don't even pick up the litter I see on the street, and my lifetime charitable contributions total to less than US $1000</i>)<p>- I'd earn a PhD, publish papers in prestigious journals, and achieve a research breakthrough (<i>I flunked a couple of classes during college and probably survived my M.S. due to grade inflation</i>)<p>- I'd found a startup, make products and services that people love, build überscale infrastructure using ultracool tech, and cash out for a fortune (<i>I can't even refactor this putrid pile of Java in front of me</i>)<p>- I'd become a virtuoso musician, competitive athlete, bestselling author, award-winning chef, whatever (<i>I've spent the last 10 years working to become a better programmer and I still suck</i>)<p>- I'd disappear into some misty mountain in a remote part of the world and live out my days as an ascetic hermit (<i>I'm here on HN begging for advice like a whiny, attention-seeking brat</i>)<p>And so I stop.  These aren't real goals; I recognize them as daydreaming.  I'm already defeated before I've even begun.<p>What I think I need is some time to do some serious soul-searching, and I doubt that a mere change of employment or environment is sufficient, since true change has to come from within.  But anything more specific than that and I'm lost.<p>What I fear is that I might just be fundamentally lazy, and my lack of a plan will doom me to failure, whereupon I'll spend the rest of my life as damaged goods, unmotivated, unproductive, unemployable, unwanted and useless.<p>I'm not looking for sympathy. I just hope someone can kick some sense into me, help me see the light, and make best use of my time to recover.
Upvote: