She’s made all the mistakes, so you don’t have to… Ask Erin is a weekly advice column, in which Erin answers your burning questions about anything at all.

Q.

Very long story short—I used to work in social services, mostly with the courts and hospitals. I fell into the career accidentally and realized it isn't for me way too late, like five years too late. In the middle of my city's first lockdown, I was able to identify that I had enough money in my savings and was able to monetize a hobby, so I quit my job. 

I'm so burned out I'd be scared if I could feel right now. 

My brother is always calling me to complain about typical lockdown stuff like his kids being annoying or whatever, but I'm struggling to process a lot of trauma that has nothing to do with covid. I had a stalker for three years who I met through my job. I was frequently harassed in public by clients or family members of clients, and many, many, many other things. 

I'm seeking therapy and trying to find a therapist who won't just give me the "well, that's burnout, baby!" speech, but in the meantime, I don't want to do zoom happy hour. I don't care about which member of your pod is annoying you. I don't have the capacity, and, well, I'd feel bad if I could. 

The main thing I'm worried about is finding a way to preserve the relationships I have other than sending a blanket text saying, "please don't complain to me right now; I won't be sensitive to your needs.” 

I don't know how else to tell my friends and family who’ve relied on me to be their sounding board for everything that I'm running on empty and need space. 

Also, I know how this might read, and yes, I'm safe. Yes, my partner is here with me and is helping me get help.

A. 

Years ago, I worked as a case manager for transition-age youth experiencing homelessness. On the one hand, it was a rewarding experience when I felt like I actually helped someone. But more often than not, I felt depleted. I applaud people who can stay in the profession for many years. I lasted less than two. It’s a testament to your self-awareness that you walked away when you knew you couldn’t do it anymore—no need to chastise yourself for not walking away sooner. You undoubtedly helped many folks during your time in that job, and leaving now does not discount that. 

I started this advice column more than eleven years ago. I started it after a friend suggested I do one since everyone came to me for advice anyway. She was right. I was always the go-to person for venting, advice, etc., even during the years I was in active addiction. As my column has grown, I now receive hundreds of emails and messages each month. 

While I love being that person (or I wouldn’t continue the advice column), I understand the burnout all too well. 

Part of my perfectionism has been to appear to be the one who will stay strong in the storm. I want to be, and I try to be. But in doing so, I often overlook what I may need. It sounds like that is some of what was happening for you—always being the sounding board. Further, the pain of others is a lot to take on. It leaves little room for you to process your own pain. 

Now that the job burnout is sorted, it’s a matter of setting boundaries with people in your life. You mentioned sending out a blanket text: "please don't complain to me right now; I won't be sensitive to your needs.” You can set this boundary in a softer tone that will indeed ensure that you preserve those friendships. The next time your brother or anyone else complains to you or comes to you needing what you can’t give right now, say something like, “I care about/ love you, but I can’t be the one to hear it or work it out with you right now. I am dealing with some of my own stuff and need the space to do so. I hope you can understand that.” 

You have the right to make space for your feelings, for processing that trauma.

Often, we are reluctant to give ourselves that sort of permission—to set a boundary, to take up space. Now is the time to do that. And it’s okay to say no to that Zoom happy hour!

I am so happy to hear that you have a supportive partner and are actively seeking a good therapist. If you need any assistance finding therapy in your area, please reach out to me. Sometimes, with trauma, we need more than straight-up talk therapy. You may want to check out EMDR (which I am currently looking into), which has helped quite a few friends of mine with PTSD and unprocessed trauma. 

You said you didn’t know how to tell your friends and family that you are running on empty and need space. But you do know how because you said it concisely and precisely in that very sentence. 

If someone you cared about said, “I’m running on empty, and I need some space,” you would understand and respect that. 

And if someone in your life doesn't, then maybe you need to rethink having a relationship with them. You are allowed to have feelings and needs. You deserve the time and space to take care of yourself. And that’s nothing to feel guilty about. 

The information within Ask Erin should in no way be interpreted as medical advice because I’m not a medical professional. But I am here to help — to share the wisdom I’ve gained after years of making mistakes. If you have a question for me about relationships, addiction, dating, friendships, depression, parenting, sex, consent, what I’m watching, what I’m reading, what I’m listening to, Lavender Smithsonite, or anything at all, use the contact form HERE or email me: askerin@erinkhar.com. As always, your anonymity is golden. 

Did you know I wrote a book about my 15-year struggle with heroin addiction? It’s called STRUNG OUT: One Last Hit and Other Lies that Nearly Killed Me, and it’s on sale now! 

Lastly, I’m so excited to share with you my Ask Erin Self-Care Guide, free when you sign up for my newsletter, which contains a behind-the-scenes look at STRUNG OUT and the publishing process, exclusive extras and book giveaways only for newsletter subscribers, recommendations to get you through the week, extra Ask Erin content, and more… XOXO 

*Artwork: Tess Emily Rodriguez