What does burnout look like before absence? From two perspectives.
Amanda’s thoughts - (Neurodivergent and non- HR perspective) - You see Sally coming to work every day. She’s punctual, in fact, she’s always at least 30 minutes early to the office. She’s dedicated, making sure everything is completed to a high standard. Sally is a pleasure to manage and an asset to the business (hurray for Sally).
If there’s a last-minute meeting, you know you can rely on her to find the evidence needed and be the face of the organisation. She’s rarely off sick, now you think about it, she’s never had a day off outside of annual leave… oh, apart from that one time she needed to take her daughter to hospital (totally understandable). Yep, you wish there were more Sallys.
I’m sure many of us know a ‘Sally’ or can personally relate to her.
Dedicated, motivated, focused, selfless, a team player. That golden employee who arguably loves the role and always gets the job done.
What might be interesting (but not necessarily visible) is what’s really going on for Sally behind that exterior. Let’s hear what Sally has to say about work.
“I love my job. It’s something I’ve worked hard for my whole life. I know that I’m good at what I do, but recently things are starting to feel harder. I don’t even know if it’s the work, to be honest , it’s hard to pinpoint. What I do know is that my ears hurt, my heart is racing, and I’m starting to feel anxious about the smallest things.
I always get into the office early, for as long as I can remember. It’s kind of my ‘me’ time. It gives me a chance to settle into the day. If I don’t get in early, I worry about the impact that getting caught in traffic will have. It’s not just the fear of being late, I need a desk by the window with no one sitting behind me. I know that sounds strange, but I simply can’t work with someone there.
So, I make sure I get to ‘my spot’. People in the office find it funny that I’m always in the same place. The other thing is car parking, as more people come into the office, it becomes a real stress. So I try to avoid that at all costs.
Pressure does seem to be building at the moment. I’m feeling like I’m not as ‘sharp’ as I used to be, I feel like a fraud. I know I’ve got to do better. I’m spending more time working at home to try to keep my head above water, as they say. I don’t want to ask for help or delegate work because I’m scared I’m not getting things done quickly enough… and that I’ll be found out.
Last-minute meetings are something I really hate. I feel like I spend so much time trying to focus on what people are saying, but the more I focus, the more lost I feel. My head is telling me to ‘pay attention, question, nod, reply’, but I feel so confused. I just hope I’m doing a good job of not showing it. I guess I must be, because I’m still asked to jump in at the last minute.
After a meeting like that, or even an interaction with a colleague, it’s like I have a tape recorder in my head, playing everything back over and over again. Did I say something strange? Something I shouldn’t have? Did you see the look they gave Sam before they left, what did that mean? I wonder if they know I didn’t have a clue what was going on.
I’m not sure if anyone else has noticed, but over the last few weeks the noise in the office seems louder. I don’t think I ever noticed the kettle boiling or the microwave whirring before, but now I can’tstop hearing them. It’s as if there’s no filter, the noise is everywhere, all around me.
That’s another reason why that quiet time on my own in the morning is so lovely”
A week later, Sally phones in sick. In fact, she’s been signed off work for the next month. I hope she’s okay.
Sally tells the doctor:
“I don’t know if I can go back there. I think they all hate me. I’ve let everyone down. Right now, I can barely get myself dressed in the morning.”
Burnout in neurodivergent people can look like success, right up until it doesn’t.
We reward the early starts, the reliability, the “can-do” attitude, without ever asking what it costs to maintain it. For some, like Sally, what we might see as strengths are also survival strategies. The question isn’t how we find more Sallys, but how we create environments where Sally doesn’t have to push herself to the point of burnout just to stay afloat.
Anthonys thoughts (an HR and neuro-typical perspective) - As someone who is not neurodivergent, hearing stories like Sally’s is hard to comprehend. I try to identify with these internal noises to support both my wife and daughter and say all the things that make sense to me.
This often translates in to how we, as HR Professionals, advise our managers – we are looking at the working environment from a neuro-typical position because this is what we all know and understand.
The trick to creating a truly neuro-inclusive environment is not in doubling down on what we already know, or through reactive and ad-hoc changes in response to burnout, it’s working with all employees to enable us all to understand the differences we have and changes that need to happen.
That being said, work places cannot be all things to all people (how many of us have the inevitable “cold person” in the office who whacks up the aircon when no one is looking), the need will always be there to make reasonable adjustments for specific needs.
The good news is that businesses can make small changes to help all employees feel comfortable at work and this is something we (at Ripples coaching) can help with through the following:
Manager and employee coaching & training
Review of working practices and a policy review
We will provide easy to implement strategies that will make an immediate and longer-term impact on your employees to ensure everyone has the right environment to thrive.