Sena

Same fix. I remapped the side buttons to keyboard shortcuts because I kept bracing with the thumb to steady the whole mouse, which is exactly the grip you're trying to escape.

The only thing that survived in my cupboard is vitamin D, and only because a test said I was low and a doctor told me to take it. When I was on six things I had no idea which, if any, was doing anything, and I felt vaguely worse about myself every time I opened the drawer. One thing, for a reason, checked again later.

Went back into the same conditions and crashed again in five months. What I'd do differently: I treated the return as a personal resilience project — better boundaries, better sleep, better me — when the actual variables were headcount and one manager's behaviour, neither of which I controlled. Rest fixes you. It does not fix the job. If nothing about the job is changing, plan the return as a bridge to leaving rather than as the solution.

Contrary view from someone with the same road split: I ran studs for six winters and stopped, not because of grip but because of what they do to the road surface and to my patience on the highway. What replaced them was a good studless tyre plus adjusting my departure time so the icy section is driven after the sand truck rather than before it. That is not available to everyone but it was available to me and it solved more than the tyre did.

Made this trade in both directions. Studs win decisively on glare ice and on hard-packed ice at low speed, and that advantage narrows a lot once the surface is snow rather than ice. On cold dry pavement studs are worse — shorter contact with the rubber, a little more noise, a little longer stopping. With your split, the honest question is whether the icy third contains anything that scares you. If it includes a hill with a stop at the bottom, studs. If it is flat, studless.

The distinction people find useful in practice is that burnout tends to be job-shaped. You're flat about work, cynical about work, and on a Saturday morning with no work anywhere in sight there is still something left in you. If the flatness follows you into food, into friends, into things you used to love, that's the part that points elsewhere. Worth knowing too that the formal classification in ICD-11 puts burn-out under factors influencing health status, explicitly as an occupational phenomenon rather than a medical condition — which is exactly why 'is it burnout or depression' is a question a professional can answer and a forum cannot.

Then please make the appointment. Not because I know what's going on — I don't — but because that's the answer that's worth an hour of a professional's time rather than an evening of ours.

Also worth knowing that both films hate being left in a cold car and hate being bent. Two of my packs were ruined before the event because they lived in a boot for a week.

Fourteen months, and it came in steps rather than a slope. Roughly: months one to three I couldn't read anything longer than a paragraph. Months four to seven I could read but couldn't decide anything, including what to eat. Month eight was the first week I noticed I'd been fine for four days in a row. Months nine to twelve were two forward, one back, and the back steps always followed something that looked small from outside. Part-time at month thirteen. The thing nobody warned me about: the dread about messages was the very last symptom to go, months after I otherwise felt fine.

That was my worst habit too. I started marking days on a paper calendar, because my memory of any given month was always 'all of it was bad' and the calendar kept disagreeing with me.

It is absurd. It also worked, and the seven-month deadline is precisely why you cannot afford another five months of the approach you've been using.

Yes, and the first week back was not writing. It was twenty minutes a day of touching the file with no requirement to add anything at all — open it, read one line, close it, walk away. Nine days of that before I wrote a sentence. The sick feeling is a conditioned response to the file, and you have to break the association before you can ask the file for work. Writing through it just teaches your body that opening the document is followed by an hour of misery, which is exactly what you've been training for five months.

The Nagoski sisters' one — 'Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle', 2019 — is the one I've reread twice. The idea I actually used, rather than merely nodded at, is that dealing with the stressor and dealing with the stress in your body are two separate jobs, and you can finish the second one on days when you can do nothing whatsoever about the first. That's the bit that works when you can't change your job. It's framed around women's experience specifically, which some readers find limiting and I didn't.

The thing that separates this from ordinary work burnout, in everything I've read and everyone I've talked to, is that the fix isn't rest in general — it's reducing input specifically. Rest that involves people, noise or decisions isn't rest. What helped me was auditing the week for sensory and social load rather than for hours worked, then cutting the two worst things even though both were small: an open-plan afternoon and a weekly video call that could have been three sentences of text.