The idea is really disjointed.
The main framing I’m looking for: lost enthusiasm for tech.
Set frameworks for noticing what you don’t like
Offer a solution that leads into my next essay (How life is much easier when you lean into your favorite Magic the Gathering archetype. #redgreen4lyfe)
When I quit my job at Medable, I suddenly found myself with a ton of emotions. I now had to reconcile my ego with something I hadn’t had to think about before: how did I get so unhappy working in tech. I knew how difficult it was to go from college graduate to employed in tech. There is an absolute glut of TikToks or Youtube videos analyzing how to make it to the glorified promised land. But while I’d spent my entire life trying to get employed in tech, I knew nothing about the bitterness that seeps into your soul when you’re working in tech. Now, in order to avoid it, I had to learn what made me lose so much of my enthusiasm for the thing I’ve pursued.
So I started paying attention to myself. If you asked me as a kid how someone burned out from their career, I’d have said by video games or drugs. That’s how my parents seemed to describe the bane of all evil. But in fact, I think the way bitterness grow seems to happen is not through an external factor, but through frustration and sadness.
Quitting almost seems self-indulgent. And unless you got your career by inheritance or by pure-luck, you’ve already been thoroughly trained that quitting leads to trouble.
At least for me, staying in your career seems to bypass a lot of external crap from other people. It’s apparent to society that you’re not wasting your time; you’re working and making moves in the world.
And honestly, I think it works for an extended amount of time. When I was attending church, I remember a leader telling me to me the importance of continuing to doing acts of service, even if the “spirit wasn’t leading you” at the time. I honestly still believe her. Your presence does matters.
The issue is that you have a paper-mache exterior of someone who’s trying their best, but internally, the sadness just seeps through like an accidently spilled five gallon jug water on your fifth grader’s masterpiece.
The solution seems to be setting a framework that fits with yourself. This is tricky business because everyone is going to tell you what a good framework looks like. Between you and me, this is (should be) where I tell you about the framework that I think is good. [Red/Green]
With burnout, as with bitterness, avoiding your manager is just no longer enough to protect you. Quitting your job and getting a new one seems to just be a stop-gap.
The world has gotten more complicated: it seems that most dangerous traps now are picking up frameworks that bypass mimic the current meta. And the worst thing is, they're not even fun.
Thanks to (you?) for reading this. I’d love to get some feedback to make these essays better! Feel free to email me at layjchan[@]gmail.com and I’d love to buy you a coffee and chat about it.
I found your post in my Murmel (https://murmel.social) digest and it quite resonated with me.
Like you, I was on the verge of burnout somewhere around the end of 2020. I quit my job, not knowing exactly what I am going to do, but sure of one thing - I wanted to set my own framework for doing things. About a year ago, an old friend of mine and I started drafting ideas about things we could possibly build together, which is how Murmel was born. While we are (still) far from the successful hyper-growth Silicon Valley startups, we also operate on 1/1000 of their founders' stress levels.
It's important to find a way to do what you like. Maybe you won't be the next Google, building a sustainable business out of an idea you enjoy gives you a lot more flexibility to be something other than just a working horse - a friend, a parent, or a kid of your parents.
Have a look at the feedback on HackerNews: https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=30980893