I have an injury. Not a stitch, not a knee that can be replaced, not a fall that could leave me paralysed. No, if the slightest thing goes wrong, I stop breathing. On every bike ride, every training session, every adventure, as soon as I start having trouble breathing, the only thought that comes to mind is:
Is this outing worth my life?
This wound is as much mental as it is physical, as deep as it is invisible.
I choose this pain all the same. I prefer its company to that of boredom.
It always wins out over boredom.
All this to say that, like many people, neurodivergent or not, boredom is my worst enemy.
So just imagine it: it’s slowly killing you. Imperceptibly, you fall into its trap as slowly and as quickly as one falls in love.
At first it’s relaxing; it feels good to have a bit of free time at work when everything in the company is running at full speed. And then you think, well, if I’m going to have free time anyway, I might as well keep myself busy; if there’s nothing coming up at work, let’s come up with some initiatives. You put all your energy, passion and renewed motivation into it. In the end, these initiatives are very often forgotten, swept under the carpet. There isn’t enough time for others, or funds, or energy. Gradually, you start to wonder: what’s the point of launching initiatives that are just a passing fad? You still aren’t being given any extra work. The demands keep piling up, and little by little you realise that your true value, your full potential, won’t be utilised.
No, no new stimuli today, no challenge this month, and nothing new this year either.
Then one fine day you look up and realise that a sense of emptiness has taken hold. Your motivation has vanished; your routine tasks? You forget them, you procrastinate, unconsciously, but surely. The meaning of your work and your work ethic have evaporated, perhaps gone forever. You lose hope; you lose faith in the system.
So you put on a show, just to keep yourself occupied. But the longer you wait, the more you look up only to see just how far you’re continuing to sink. It then seems impossible to climb out of this hole that’s been dug so deep. You’re right in the middle of a bore-out. We hear a lot about burnout, and yet there’s also its exact opposite: this hole you find yourself in. That boredom, that deep fatigue, that disengagement, that loss of self-esteem, that shame and that procrastination that accompany you today. These new, unwelcome companions who move in uninvited, gnaw at you from within and steal your nights by keeping you awake.
And then one day that burst of energy returns, that outburst, that feeling of having had enough, or that opportunity which, out of nowhere, has arisen. And then, slowly, you pick yourself up. Whether it’s in the same company or not, with the same team or not, with the same values or not. One thing is certain: you are now like a phoenix rising from the ashes.
It just goes to show that all it takes is a helping hand, however small, to restore your vitality. Whether it’s a hand extended, some support offered, or a timely opportunity to get you back on your feet, to lift you up.
That is why it is so important to get to know your teams, to really talk to them, and to pick up on even the slightest signs of change. Observe, listen, communicate, help. That is the essence of the finest profession of all.
The profession of simply being human.
