From Burnout to Fulfillment—And the Fear of Losing It

I've had a blank post sitting open in a tab on my computer for weeks now. Maintaining a new routine requires consistency, and not posting is not conducive to keeping up the habit of blogging. 

But honestly, I haven’t had the headspace to write. Just staying afloat these past two months has been enough. I’ve been holding onto the routines that keep me sane—eating well, staying active, journaling—but beyond that, it's been hard to pursue more.

For context, I'm a Federal employee. This June, I'll have 14 years with my agency. I've steadily climbed the ranks in this time, and last fall I finally shifted to a new division. This shift took me from a program with the highest burnout to a program that is unofficially dubbed "Division of Unicorns and Rainbows" because it is such an incredible place to work. (I didn't know that the program had that moniker until my second week on the job, but I love it. And I agree.)

February 2024, examining a banded Virginia big-eared bat during the biannual population census on a rare (for me) fieldwork day

I've worked hard to help the public during my career. I was the most senior staffer in my old office for the past 5 years. During that time, I helped to streamline and expedite review timeframes for 76% of the workload we received. That's a significant help to the public, y'all! This freed up staff to focus fully on complex projects and critical conservation efforts. It was thankless work, but I could see a difference from what I did. And that was worth it. 

In my new role, I'm a part of a small national team who helps conserve land across the country through grants. It's so much more feel-good than my past position. My new position also plays to all of my strengths: I get to coordinate and organize and find efficiencies across the country to help implement our work more smooth and expeditiously for the betterment of the environment and people (you, dear reader) who enjoy it. I love it. And that’s high praise from someone who burned out twice and once doubted they could ever truly love work again!

A cluster of endangered Virginia big-eared bats

That’s why the past eight weeks have been brutal. Being labeled "waste" and "low productivity" while the systems I’ve worked in for over a decade are upended has been gut-wrenching. Seeing a fourth of my former colleagues—high-performing, award-winning staff—illegally fired, while others resign due to the changing circumstances, is devastating.

For weeks, my colleagues and I endured blow after blow—countless executive orders and a flood of [frankly insulting, and quite troll-y] emails from an entity outside our chain of command. Anxiety is sky-high, even among the steadiest of us. Seeing colleagues that have always been absolute ROCKS to lean on through stress become balls of anxiety is wildly unnerving to observe. We've had a brief reprieve from direct attacks, but with RIF plans due tomorrow, we’re bracing for more losses—maybe even our own jobs. Uncertainty is the devil. 

For me, it's made more painful as I worry about losing this new role that I adore and worked my ass off to earn. Not kidding—of 200 applicants for this position, I earned it.

And look, I understand frustration with government inefficiency. I know fraud and waste exist and should be addressed. But gutting institutional knowledge and forcing out dedicated career employees won’t solve the problem—it will only make it worse. Traumatizing those people is also immoral and shameful. 

Entering and exiting this cave for the bat census involves a 155-foot rappel (and subsequent rope climb)

I’ll step off my soapbox now and focus on getting back into my renewed blogging routine. With spring here, it’s the perfect time for new adventures. But before shifting to lighter topics, I felt it was important to acknowledge how deeply this period has affected my life. Thank you for reading and lending me (and other Federal workers) grace during this challenging time.