From “Gifted” To “Burnt Out”
How I finally realised that it was okay to slow down for a bit.
Growing up as the eldest daughter in a conservative, patriarchal Indian household, I’ve often been taught to be the “responsible” one, the one who often has to endure everything on the inside while smiling and keeping a friendly face on the outside. I believe that several people might’ve had the same experience to talk about.
But in our society, mental health is something considered to be taboo, and we’re often taught to believe that everyone around us is carrying the same pain as us, if not more, and that they all get along just fine. Or so they think.
There is an age difference of three years between me and my younger brother. But even though this difference is seemingly small, I was taught from a very young age that I was always the “older one”, someone who has to sacrifice her own needs for the sake of her brother. But at the same time, my parents made me believe that I was somehow “gifted”, because I started to speak at an earlier age than most, could read, tell the time, and had a natural curiosity. In the matters of school, I remember feeling very accomplished and proud when I first started learning what was taught in school on a daily basis. I still remember how good it felt when I studied the day’s lessons every night, for just half an hour, starting from 7:30 at night. That was way back when I was a third grader.
Times have changed, and now, I require more time to study, and the feeling of accomplishment has also faded. Now it just feels like I’m studying because of the pressure to perform well and just to get good grades. That was one of the problems of being a topper early on. Society has this “in-built image” of you. “Oh, she’s the topper, right? The one who always performs well, and who teachers love a lot?”. You just shrink into that one aspect of your personality. The most devastating part of all this is that most of the times, you don’t even realise that you’ve been stripped of all your curiosity and love of learning for learning’s sake. It’s a slow realisation. It was, for me.
Maybe this was the education system’s fault, focusing more on grades and rote memorisation rather than actually learning concepts. Or maybe it was the society’s belief that grades define who you are and forming their own impressions and image of you based on how well you did in class. Whatever it is, this has led to burnouts and losing that excitement for waking up every day to go to school and to learn new things. You just… feel numb.
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In India, the system of Board exams for CBSE students of tenth and twelfth grades emphasises a lot on memorisation of information and presenting it in a suitable way to earn marks. Little to no marks are awarded for creativity and out-of-the-box ideas, save in language and literature. I’m not here to blame the education system, as it has been improving steadily over the years. But, the society should upgrade its software too, to keep up with the reforms.
I remember starting tenth grade with the firm belief that I will not succumb to pressure and let that ruin my performance. And to an extent, it did work out. I studied consistently, solved several past papers, did sample questions, the usual methods suggested for scoring well. But little did I know that this, the marathon study sessions, not taking off days or breaks, not being able to keep up with my hobbies, would lead to severe burnout and an energy crash by the time of my Board exams.
By the end of January, with the Boards looming in fast, I started feeling more and more tired, and some days, I felt like I absolutely could not study, and I had to take breaks then. But my breaks on those days left me feeling more guilty and drained by the end of the day. Not to mention my parents, who, up until those days, had never put pressure on me to study (which I’m really grateful for, but feel like it was because they knew I would study because of the pressure I put on myself), started compelling me to study any time they saw me sitting idly. I felt betrayed and scared, because they were the only ones who I thought would never pressure me. That was the breaking point.
I remember feeling so low on some of those days that even if I knew that I had an exam coming up in four days, I was only able to force myself to revise on the third day. That too, I was guilt-tripping myself to do it. After the exam was over, I would shut myself up in my room, pretending to revise for the next exam, but secretly, I was crying. This happened almost everyday. Tears were always shut out in my family. Whenever I would cry, I was always told, “There’s no need to cry for something as silly as this! So, stop crying.” But I discovered on my own terms that crying actually was a release mechanism for me, because I felt so much better after letting it all out. I think a lot of people I know should listen to this too. While I was in my room crying, I could hear my family downstairs watching TV, making phone calls or just laughing at jokes. I always hid my tears, because it wasn’t safe for me to be vulnerable in front of my own family.
Fast forward to two years, I had finished tenth grade with fairly high marks, so high that even I was surprised, because I was in such a low place at that time, that I felt like my performance would certainly have been on the lower part of the scale too. But now that I think about it, I feel like I had gotten those marks only because I studied consistently, and whatever information I had stored up until my breaking point was still fresh in my mind. Now, in January, two years after this, I realised that I had not been performing as well as I used to till tenth grade, and that was when it hit me: the burnout was never gone.
It was just hidden in plain sight, and I may have been gaslighting myself to believe that it was because the syllabus had just become more difficult (and it had, but not to such a huge extent). This was such a shock to me, as I realised that physics, which used to be one of my favourite subjects, had become a nightmare for me. It was all because of the time-pressure. Even the teachers had that. They were rushing to finish the portions, without even giving us practice questions in class. As a whole, the year itself felt rushed.
To be frank, I’m still not that sure how to heal from the burnout. I guess I just figured out how to work with the burnout, although that has led me to crash whenever the task at hand was over.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get back to who I was before burn out, but that’s not the point anymore. If there’s anything that I learned after all this contemplation, it’s that I’m finally ready to outgrow trying to live up to a word that was given to me too early. If I could talk to a version of me who was praised for never slowing down, I’d tell her that she’s allowed to stop before she breaks, and that it is okay to be vulnerable and not have a tough face all the time.
Now, I’m learning to exist without constantly earning it.
