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This post was partly inspired after I recently completed some short-term teaching supply work. It was the first time I had stepped back into a classroom since leaving my full-time teaching role in the summer.
A little over a year ago, a realisation helped me gain an insight into my then state of mind about my teaching job. I had stopped caring.
I feel conflicted just writing that (even here, especially here, I am new to Substack after all), because the people pleaser in me wants to be seen in a positive light. How could I have stopped caring in a role that fundamentally requires a large amount of caring especially towards your students?
There was not just one reason why I decided to leave teaching. Even now some months after I left my permanent role, things still feel jumbled together in an unruly exasperating mess that I am still untangling. It feels a bit like when the wires from my headphones are knotted together when I pull them out of my bag, and although clearly these things are vastly different in scope, I am still left wondering how they managed to get that way.
While I could explore more of the structural aspects of society in so much as females are often socialised into caring roles, I will save that for another day as just with that there’s a lot to pick apart. And I do want to acknowledge that there are undesirable/annoying aspects to most if not all jobs. However, looking back, I know that these undesirable/annoying aspects were not just aspects to me that I was able to put to the side - the energy that was required in trying to care in my job and just do the job contributed to a general malaise in my life.
After all, I still got up, showered, went to work, and had a social life, but I also felt largely devoid of emotions – a red flag. Any emotions I did experience that I attached to my day were resoundingly negative – another red flag. And I would also be anxious and teary during weekends and holidays, and unable to switch my thinking to anything not related to work – the biggest of the red flags.
Looking back, I was likely experiencing symptoms related to stress and mild depression. However, I felt that my symptoms were not severe enough (things could be worse, I told myself on a frequent basis), so I never sought help from a medical professional (GP/family doctor)1. But when I reflect on this further and my relationship with work specifically, something else comes to mind – I was probably also experiencing burnout.
It feels like a great deal has already been written about burnout in the past few years in terms of what it is and what treatments are available, especially after it was formally recognised as a syndrome in 2019 by the World Health Organisation (WHO). However, the psychologist in me is interested in what distinguishes burnout from other mental health related issues.
Burnout specifically is believed to have several dimensions that include:
Feelings of exhaustion;
Increased levels of negativity/cynicism; and
Reduced efficiency in one’s job2.
Currently, the WHO (through the International Classification of Diseases), and the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM)3 state that burnout is not a mental disorder or a medical condition, and rather, the ICD-11 states that burnout is an ‘occupational phenomenon’. This is significant as part of the complications associated with diagnosing burnout arise from understanding how it is different to other conditions, which suggests that more research is required on the diagnostic criteria.
The current editions of the ICD (11) and DSM (5) both provide specific criteria for the diagnosis of mental health disorders, often with minimum time periods for how long symptoms should be present. Therefore, it is essential that any criteria developed to identify symptoms of burnout supports its ‘diagnosis’ and not of something else (if you remove the references to work and the criteria mentioned above for burnout it could also describe elements of different anxiety disorders, and types of depression).
Furthermore, burnout may manifest differently for individuals. For instance, I wouldn’t say that I met the criteria for reduced efficiency in my job when I was still working (although my ex-boss may say something quite different!). And that’s just for starters. It gets complicated quick when we also start to consider the influence of different workplace environments on burnout, an individual’s biology, other life stressors, as well as sociocultural factors.
What does this mean for me?
I was in a privileged position to resign from my teaching job and not be required to move into another job immediately to pay the bills and make rent, and I am aware that many other people do not have this option. Equally, I am not sure I would have been able to jump straight into doing something else. I was functioning, but at times, just functioning felt like the most difficult thing to do on a given day.
Right now, it feels that I am in the messy final stages of the untangling wire phase – continuing to figure shit out and appreciating the ‘Aha!’ moments.
One of the most significant ‘Aha!’ moments has been joining Substack. This platform has helped me rediscover a desire to express myself through writing, and explore the interests of others, while starting to build a community. In particular, I have found that reading about other women (not just all women, by any means) who have been affected by burnout and reading about their experiences, as well as learning about strategies that have supported them has been invaluable4. Similarly, I can resonate with those who experienced burnout and have gone through a career change, although these don’t necessarily need to be connected.
Finally, I have started to ‘care’ about things again, and weirdest of all, I have the recent stint of teaching to thank for this. What surprised me most of all was that stepping back into the classroom was… fine. More than fine, I enjoyed it5.
Did it change my mind about my decision to leave teaching, or consider searching for a more permanent role? Not so much. I was reminded about how working with students can be a wonderful experience, but I also came away feeling a deep a sense of peace. It was as though I was able to finally say goodbye to that part of my life.
And now? I feel ready to try something different.
Thanks for taking the time to read this, and if you can relate to anything that I have written here, let me know your thoughts.
Sarah xx
Some other resources about burnout:
I am not a medical professional and so I want to avoid dishing out ‘advice’, but these resources might be helpful for anyone who would like to learn more about burnout in the workplace:
I did see a private counsellor for a short period, but I did need to stop going as I could not continue to cover the costs of the sessions.
For those who are unfamiliar with these, the ICD and DSM both provide diagnostic guidance to health professionals.
Including lots of amazing writers here on Substack.
Confession time, I did complete the supply teaching at a school I previously worked at, so I was already knew many of the staff, students, and knew where the classrooms were.
I can relate to what you have written and also your earlier post on why you left your job without having anything lined up - I did the same, just that I left in the beginning of the year. It's been uncomfortable for me and it's needed for me to learn some critical life lessons like self-love. Otherwise I would have just continued on the path to my own demise. I want to let you know that you have been courageous to step out and you are not alone. Another thing that I can say is your teaching skill is a superpower in other contexts than the classroom, plus your psychology background. These would serve well in roles like a people leader type of roles in at least medium sized organisations. Way too many managers in corporations lack the skills and on-the-job training support to lead, teach, mentor people, facilitate conversations and manage teams, resulting in the dismal levels of engagement among workers.
Thank you for sharing your story here, Sarah. I found it very interesting to read, not least because I felt very similar to you. I wonder how many other teachers have suffered/are suffering from burnout? I think it's probably endemic because of the full-on nature of term time, but I've certainly never worked in a school which has addressed it or tried to seek ways to improve the work-life balance particularly well. I definitely got to the point where I didn't care, which I'd never, ever felt before. It was a strange feeling and at the time I didn't know it was burnout.
It's good that you've gone back into the classroom for some supply. That's a sensible way to test the water again. I've found working part-time without any management responsibility to feel a little like that too, although there are still some feelings of the pressure there.
Hopefully taking some time out and writing here is helping you to figure out what might be next for you. Giving yourself time is so important, if possible.