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Extract taken from  BURNOUT, A TALE TO TELL

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Mad Rush

 

I was crumbling.

The situation had got progressively worse since the start of the academic year. No longer stoical I’d dissolve into tears on the slightest pretext. Staff would come across me weeping in the stock cupboard, by the photocopier or in a deserted  class room. 

Needless to say I’d lost all sense of humour. I’d become blind to the funny side. I couldn’t sleep. My eating was erratic, concentration was a continual struggle.  

Although permanently exhausted, I was hyperactive. Operating on fast forward I grew less and less efficient.  Worse still, my passion for my job turned to indifference. I’d often been accused of caring too much. Now I didn’t care at all.

Everything seemed pointless.

I’d look in the mirror and see  a gaunt face with sunken panda eyes and chalky skin staring back at me. I didn’t recognise this person.

January 26th 2011 I finally realised there was something fundamentally wrong. 

I had to save what remained of myself before it was too late.