I Didn’t Realize I Was Burning Out Until My Hair Started Breaking Off
“Nobody gets through life without facing a cliff.”
—from The Oprah Podcast, “How to Navigate Life’s Big Transitions with Oprah and Bestselling Author Jim Collins”
After putting it off for two years, I finally scheduled a haircut at my local curly hair salon and took time off work to make it happen. When I sat down, the hairdresser asked me, “Do you know you have a hole in the back of your head?” I was embarrassed and immediately panicked. It wasn’t an actual hole or a bald spot—there was just a lot of breakage in the center of my head. I noticed it in the last few months whenever I would detangle my hair because I was pulling and tugging on it. She asked me about my life and what I did for work, so I shared with her that I’d been working as a case manager full-time for the last fourteen years, had an almost 8-year-old son who has autism and is nonverbal, and I was pursuing a writing career. She paused and said, “Wow, you’re busy. You have to make time for yourself. Hair is the first place stress shows up.” It was a reminder that when you’re trying to do it all, something’s going to give.
I previously wrote about burnout in a blog post aptly titled “Burnout," where I talked about juggling work, motherhood, and writing. It was written one year before I found a new job—a lateral move in the social work field, but a move that meant less case management from the job I held straight out of college and maintained for twelve years. I wrote about that transition in a previous blog post, “A New Chapter.” The change was a huge boost to my self-esteem because I felt I was never going to leave my first job. Seeing that I could felt like I could move mountains. I remember thinking to myself that my new job would be the last one I would have in case management. I believed it would somehow be a bridge to the next thing that would help align my life with my writing goals. Like a bad relationship, I believed case management was the best I could do with an English degree; I stuck it out because I didn’t think I could do better. Of course, I met amazing people both on my caseload and in the workplace who I’ll never forget. The field helped me grow up, gave me over a decade of professional experience, afforded me the flexibility I needed as a mom, and the income I needed as a writer. I’m grateful; however, it’s a career path that deviates from the direction I want to take, and that’s okay.
“I woke up with chills because the last time I dreamt so clearly with an animal, a change I was working towards came true. ”
At the top of the year in 2024, a month before I got a new job and when my focus was entirely on finding a new job, I dreamt of a lion prowling in the jungle, but the jungle was in my childhood backyard on Spruce Street. According to Google, dreaming of a lion symbolized manifestation. I couldn’t remember ever dreaming so vividly like that or with an animal. I didn’t have a powerful dream like that again until this year, at the beginning of February. I was looking out again into the backyard of my house on Spruce Street. It was full of cats, mostly colored black, moving in unison; only their bodies were visible. A giant llama stood by the branches of a tree, looking at me as an old baboon looked at me and walked with his stick toward the branches. I had the thought that he was going to swing on the branches. The only other thought I had in the dream was that my son Sebastian shouldn’t see the animals, or else, as the animal lover he is, he would want to run out into the yard.
I woke up with chills because the last time I dreamt so clearly with an animal, a change I was working towards came true. I went straight to the internet to decipher this new dream. I theorized that my two dreams took the form of animals because that’s Sebastian’s first love. We share an affinity for large animals. The possible symbolism in my dream was fascinating. I learned that cats symbolize intuition, independence, feminine energy, and creativity, so a yard full of cats signified abundance. Llamas represent guardianship and a calm confidence, while baboons symbolize ancient wisdom. These elements combined could mean my creative and intuitive life is expanding, and I trust myself to know when to step into it.
The day after my dream, my company let us know they were losing their contract at the end of May. I’ve been there for two years, but after seven years with their contract, the vendor decided they were going in a different direction. Layoffs were possible, but they were working hard to get another payer. Initially, I was shocked. Then I became curious about how this would pan out for me. Would this be the way I leave social work and have the opportunity to find something else? Seeking answers, I went to my bedroom and took out my Alice in Wonderland-themed tarot deck from my bedside table. I’ve always been a fan of the books and had even reread Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass the previous month. I shuffled the cards and drew “The World.” I was stunned by the description on the card: “Alice stands in one of the squares that make up the Looking Glass world. Only a few steps remain in Alice’s adventures, and then she becomes the White Queen. The symbolism is that of completion, of having the world put into order, of things going the way they should.” The message aligned so perfectly that it felt supernatural.
In March, I learned I couldn’t take a new position with my company because the hours would be different and interfere with my caretaking responsibilities. Sebastian isn’t independent yet in getting himself ready for school, and he’d never taken the bus, which would disrupt his routine. Since the end of February, I updated my resume and began applying for administrative jobs. That search has now expanded to writing/content marketing roles. I began a free content marketing certification course on HubSpot Academy to increase my chances of getting employed. It was my husband’s suggestion to take some free courses to add to my resume, so I’m hoping that doing something new like this changes the outcome this time around.
Last week, I watched an episode of The Oprah Podcast, “How to Navigate Life’s Big Transitions with Oprah and Bestselling Author Jim Collins.” Oprah was in conversation with the author for his book, What To Make of a Life: Cliffs, Fog, Fire and the Self-Knowledge Imperative. What stuck out to me was the message the book offers, which is that nobody gets through life without a cliff—time of major life transitions. I hadn’t experienced a cliff since graduating college, when I didn’t know where I would work with my English degree, so it helped to put a word to it and be reminded that facing a major life transition was perfectly normal. You’re going to come out of it okay. My husband also gently reminded me that this could show me there are jobs I would like less. So, if I had to go back to case management, it would only be because it was a necessary move on the chessboard. What matters is that I’m preparing myself as best I can for the cliff. Horses are my favorite animal, and for the Year of the Fire Horse, I thought it only fitting that I finally get my horse tattoo. My husband gifted it to me for our fifth wedding anniversary in February. It’s a beautiful reminder that I’m ready to step forward in the path I chose. I’m facing this impending movement not with fear but with curiosity.
Maria Molina is a writer of Puerto Rican and Ecuadorian descent living in Pennsylvania with her husband, Albert, and their son, Sebastian. She writes essays on pop culture, personal growth, and parenting a child with autism. Maria is the author of the novella All Souls’ Day and the short novel Bendito. She was featured in Autism Parenting Magazine.