Who knew I could lead a secret life. 

On the outside, I was a hardworking college student. But on the inside, I was a girl walking the line between barely holding on and having a breakdown.

I’ll admit my disguise wasn’t my best. I was accustomed to eye bags that touched the floor, a growling stomach and my hair in a continuous messy bun. 

While I should’ve looked at this as a sign to take care of myself, I didn’t think it was important as making sure everything was turned in on time. 

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In my mind, my spark for school is similar to that of a candle flame. Without the right conditions a candle can’t stay lit, it’ll simply burn out.

Let’s just say my conditions have been far from perfect this semester. My biggest fear of burning out was about to come true.

Burnout is described as experiencing “emotional exhaustion, depersonalization and decreased feeling of accomplishment,” according to USF Health. 

These symptoms became my reality. 

I began the spring semester as a full time student with two internships.

After syllabus week, this even plane I had been walking on became a slippery slope.

My schedule was so tight that I had little to no room for error, but of course my weeks never went as planned.

For example my weeks could endure surprise articles, a friend in need, an unplanned extended family dinner, two brand new assignments and a late night at my internship. 

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In order to get everything done, sometimes I had to put other assignments off for the next week and this extra workload was about to send me overboard. 

In the span of a month, my meals consisted of mini snacks and large iced lattes and “Me time” came in the form of car rides to and from school. 

As I did my latest assignments, I hoped the sound of my keyboard would help drown out the roar of my stomach growls. I wasn’t fed on proper meals but the satisfaction of turning everything in on time.

I knew I had hit my worst point when my reflection was unrecognizable and I was experiencing panic attacks at least twice a week.

It wasn’t until the end of the month that I was met with my wake up call. 

Up until this point, I didn’t recognize myself as struggling because in my mind I was “fine” as long as my assignments were turned in on time and met with good feedback. 

I thought I was hiding it well until an assignment I submitted glared a massive “F,” ripping off my perfect disguise. It was the sign I needed to show me I had finally hit my breaking point. 

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That’s when I finally decided to quit my food service job and use that time for me. 

Rather than feeling guilty or unaccomplished for doing this, I changed my mindset to this idea that my responsibilities couldn’t be done well if I wasn’t okay. 

Time for “me” should be cracking open my favorite book, not a grind session. Time for me wasn’t going to magically appear in my schedule, I had to make the time. 

My anxiety ran rampant because excessive caffeine and minimal sleep were my new normal.  With adequate sleep and a good diet, I could have handled the workload better. 

While burnout happened to me, it didn’t mean I couldn’t relight my flame. 

This time I plan to make sure it stays lit.