Activist Burnout

I often think about activist burnout and how, when it finds the right host, it's an almost chronic illness.

Burnout itself has been a topic that has grown more common in the public zeitgeist in the 2020s, much in the context of work. We live in a capitalist society, that encourages constant usefulness, constant work, and chastises rest. Self-care, while a little more acceptable nowadays, is much more acceptable when it doesn't get in the way.

Outside of paid career work though, there's activism. While capitalist society says that work should be important to you, we still largely chuckle at it. How many people are truly working in a job they think is changing the world? How many people haven't said they hate their job? When asked "why do you want this job," we may not say it out loud, but the answer is "money." Activism, however, is a different beast. You're not paid, in most situations. So even just getting into activism, you must want to do it. You must see it as important. And this makes it even more vulnerable to burnout. You already have implicitly stated the cause you're working for is essential, in many cases it can be life or death. You've said you're strong enough to fight in ways not everyone is strong enough for. So when it starts getting overwhelming, what are you going to do, run away? Stop? What kind of person would that make you? Arguably, engaging in activism alone is more than most do, but it's an unfortunate box you lock yourself in when you begin: you've already proven you can do it. Others can't. So it's your responsibility to continue. Of course, it's not, realistically. It's a skill you can offer when you're able to. It serves no one to push yourself to extinction for a cause. You do more in the short-term, but life goes on. It's hard to defeat the urge, though, particularly when it's an urgent cause. And especially in the right person: someone who has high competency, self-perceived and tangibly, but has an otherwise low self-esteem. Someone with a strong sense of justice. If it's not clear enough already, I am describing myself.

I'm a leader and activist in/for the LGBTQ+ community. Kind of obviously, there's a lot of shit going on in that arena. And especially when it involves your rights, your safety, you want to do everything you can. But I've been burning the candle at both ends. I keep trying to tell myself I've done more than most but then it's like, the idea that there's still so much work to be done, I should help. And it's not like it's the most praised thing. You get some appreciation, but you also get a lot of people asking, or even telling, you to do more. You get people criticizing your methods, people saying you're not doing enough, feeding the worries you already have. Because once you're an "activist," once people just straight up see you as and call you an "activist" or a leader, you're no longer a human. To some people you are, some other activists or leaders, maybe some friends, with enough sympathy. But there's plenty of other activists and non-activists who don't see any of that.

So not only does this breed burnout, it makes you feel bad about burning out.

I don't know. I'm nearing the end of what I'm doing; soon enough I'm going to be free of these responsibilities and will have to see how that goes for me. I immediately was tempted to put my "skills" to use elsewhere, but my roommate has been a good voice of reason on that front. He made me realize I've been doing leadership stuff virtually nonstop since eighth grade! In Eighth Grade, I was the vice president of the school's Diversity Club. Second half of freshman year of high school I was the Community Service officer for the JROTC program I was in (a concept only Americans will get, and then be confused as to why tf I was in). Sophomore year was the president of the Rocketry team. Junior year I was second in command in charge of an entire class. Only break was COVID-19. Once things got started again, I was back on my bullshit. That's why, at the beginning of this blog, I said it's almost a chronic illness. It always comes back!

I don't know, I enjoy writing about subjects like this, thinking about them. I'm not the only one burning out, it's a thing for the exact reasons it was a thing for me. When it's a noble cause, it's hard to feel like you "deserve" to take a break, because it's bigger than you! But for that same reason, you should be allowed to take a break! It is bigger than you!