The spiral of fight or flight

This article describes my personal experience with burnout, a condition that can have insidious effects. Burnout is a personal experience with triggers and symptoms that can vary depending on the individual. Recovery from burnout is also unique to each person, depending on their situation and mental state. This article will focus on one common symptom of burnout: panic attacks, or what I refer to as "the fight or flight spiral." During my own burnout experience, I realized that our survival instincts, developed in humanity's early days, are still wired into our minds and bodies. However, the dangers we face today have changed. I also learned that our mental and physical states are closely intertwined, and not being aware of our mental state can be detrimental to our health.

The most insidious aspect of burnout is that it often occurs without us even realizing it. Our minds can be in the process of burning out before physical symptoms even appear, yet we are often oblivious to it. This was certainly the case for me. I was intensely focused on finishing my PhD and building my future company with my associates. It wasn't just the amount of work that was the problem; I enjoyed both tasks. The main issue was the high expectations I had for myself regarding these two objectives, one related to my present and the other to my future. In my pursuit of accuracy for my PhD, fueled by my supervisor's expectations, I wanted to produce the highest quality work possible. In the months leading up to my burnout, I had trouble sleeping, was continuously thinking about work-related issues, and was putting myself under an immense amount of unnecessary pressure. One of the most significant signs that something was wrong was my heightened susceptibility to external stimuli. I was reacting strongly to any interruption, regardless of the cause. It was infuriating. Looking back, I can say that these behaviours went on for several weeks. Then one day, my stomach started to hurt, and my stress skyrocketed. I was physically ill, and no matter what I tried, whether it was seeing doctors or taking pills, the pain persisted. It was a psychosomatic reaction, but I didn't know it at the time. Finally, the panic attacks started. They were horrible and took away the only way I knew how to counterbalance my stress: my social life. For example, I couldn't join my friends in a bar because as soon as the stimuli were too strong (noise, many people, alcohol), I started to panic. The only way for me to get rid of my fear was to leave and go back home, where I spent hours trying to return to a normal state. After around two or three weeks, I realized that I would not be able to return to normal alone.

At the time, I did not even know what a panic attack was. I was just feeling scared and experiencing a lot of physical distress, such as difficulty breathing, the sensation of fainting, high levels of anxiety, stomachache, and extreme fatigue once I was back to "normal." One evening, I had a panic attack while watching TV alone on my couch at home. That evening, I decided to put my shoes on and went to the nearest emergency room. There, I met a very competent doctor who, after several exams and tests, ensured that I was healthy. No physical disease was causing my symptoms. Therefore, he sat down with me and advised me to see a psychoanalyst. I was finally starting my journey to recovery. The first remedy I got was a complete and mandatory rest from any working activity - one full month of rest. From there, I started to rebuild myself and my mind. I also got the choice to "get some pills," which I refused with the determination of building a stronger me. (Excursus: Pills are not evil if you do not rely solely on them to heal, but if your condition allows it, you need to be determined to ditch them; otherwise, they will become part of your life with unwanted consequences.)

In the situation I was in, what worked well for me was to understand what was happening and why. The first step was the most difficult: ask for help and take a break from the daily routine. This first step allowed me to sit back and, at the same time, find a guide able to explain to me what I was experiencing. I was ready to look at myself and my issues from a different perspective. At that moment, I understood that panic attacks are part of a complex mechanism involving a series of stressful situations. In my case, months of repeated external and internal stressors created a self-feeding system, a sort of spiral of stress. For example, an external stressor was the pressure to publish a scientific paper to progress in my PhD. An internal stressor was the pressure I was putting on myself to finish as soon as possible. Several stressors combined can create a new one, such as in my case, a stomachache as a physiological symptom, which for me was the ultimate step before the start of panic attacks. An apparent health problem while already deep in the stress spiral. At that stage, our senses are so alert that our body and brain react as if we are in constant danger. They start a very ancient innate process driven by fear: the fight or flight reaction. In the past, as humans, we had to be able to face danger at any time - our survival was depending on it. Nowadays, except for some sporadic situations, we do not need that anymore. For example, we do not risk being attacked by a lion or any predator in nature at almost any time. When it was the case, we had to be ready to fly from danger or fight it. However, under a certain amount of stress, our body can recall these instincts and create the same conditions in which we have to flee or fight an invisible enemy. This is what I learned to be panic attacks. In their book "The Myth of Normal," Gabor and Daniel Mate explain how suppressing our emotions and needs activates the stress response. If you don't attend to your emotions and body by ignoring the sources of your stress, you can spiral into chronic inflammation. I learned that stress can make you very sick; it inhibits your body's natural defence. Dr Mate highlights that emotional stress is inseparable from the physical state of our bodies.

We have to be careful and aware of our state of mind. We live in a cultural setting that generates the conditions for chronic stress and related issues. Given my burnout experience, I naturally created my set of preventive and defensive techniques. I started meditation, which, among others, promotes compassion towards oneself and helps to learn how to observe our minds. In addition to a sports routine, I have added a couple of yoga sessions per week to give my body the possibility to relax. I have integrated processes into my daily routine to wind down from the workday and promote better sleep. I have studied the principles behind emotions and what they are telling us. Reading about emotional intelligence is a good start. All of this has allowed me to focus on myself, learn about my needs, and understand my limits. I can now better protect myself from external solicitation and say no when I need to. You should not feel overwhelmed by this long list. It takes time; it took me several years. It is a journey in which you must discover what does and does not work for you. It might happen that sometimes you will go to extremes in one direction, becoming too rigid in your routine or behaviours. If you listen to yourself, you will know how to adapt. My advice is to vary your sources of knowledge on the same topics and explore different topics. In this way, you will build a series of tools you can rely on for the different situations of your new life.

The burnout experience I went through taught me how important it is to preserve oneself from inside and outside pressure. For example, I now recognize the power of compassion. I see the point of books like "The Myth of Normal," which define compassion as an attitude that accepts what is and the person you are. You can start by being genuinely interested and asking some introspective questions. They might help you understand how you react to outside stimuli. You can ask yourself: What is the impact on my health of me saying yes? Why do I struggle to say no? What allowed me to say no this time? You can also inquire honestly about your physical status and be ready and open to accept the answers to questions such as: What signals is my body giving me? Am I listening to them? Are there symptoms trying to give me a warning? What is important in this process is to find your way to understand your automatic behaviours. Your mind tends to use the same approaches that might have been a good solution in the past, but that at the moment do not serve you well. Compassion is a tool that allows you to understand the nature of your go-to solutions and can help achieve the necessary clarity to have a choice: the choice to listen to your mind and body, say no, and adapt to who you are.