In five days at the end of September I gave a talk, registered a company and submitted a grant application. By the Thursday after, my concentration had gone and I was tired in a way I did not have a name for.
If you are searching for why you feel flat after finishing a big project, a launch or a deadline, you are not the first, and I will say up front that I am not a clinician and I have no mechanism to hand you. What I have is field notes from one person, and a name that helped me. I call it the completion hangover.
What the crash after finishing something big looks like
Mine arrives after the good thing, not the bad thing. That matters, because the good thing is supposed to feel like a win, so the flatness gets read as a verdict on me.
It looked like this. The talk was done. The company was registered. The grant application was in, and I had nearly talked myself out of it more than once. All three were things I had wanted to finish. Then my focus thinned out, the days went grey at the edges, and I put it down to a rest week landing late.
That may be right. I would also like to hold a second explanation next to it, loosely, as a question: some of that tiredness may have been the crash after three finishes in one week.
I did not invent it in September
In July I finished a big build and slept ten hours a night for three nights running. The thing was done, and my body behaved as if it had run something long. Then a new idea turned up, a Chrome extension, and the tiredness lifted and I was off again as though nothing had happened.
That was the first time I wrote the phrase down. September was the second time, and by then it had a name, which made it easier to spot.
Why it may hit after the finish and not before
While something is unfinished, it tells me what to do next. The deadline picks the day and the list picks the hour. Even the anxiety points somewhere, and pointing is a kind of help when choosing is hard for you.
Then the thing is submitted or live, and nothing points at all. The structure that carried me has gone, and I am standing in a very tidy, very quiet room with my own decisions. A lot of what I called tiredness in those days may have been that room.
If you work alone, nobody sees it happen. There is no colleague saying you look wiped out after that launch. You decide by yourself what the flat days mean, and without a name they tend to mean you are failing.
We do not do this with sugar. You have the biscuit, your body spends it, an hour later you want the floor, and nobody calls it a character flaw. I would like the post-project version to get the same shrug.
The landing plan I am trying
I have not proven any of this, and I wrote it after September, not before, which is the least impressive way to have a plan.
Protect the days after. Nothing booked that I have a say over. The diary is left open on purpose, so a quiet Tuesday is not a problem I have to solve.
Put one small, low stakes thing in the diary. Something finishable in a sitting, with a clear end. It gives the empty room one chair in it, and it does not need me to be brilliant.
No new decisions in the days after. A fresh idea lifted the hangover in July, which was lovely, and it is also exactly how a person with an empty tank signs up for the next big thing. The idea gets written down. It does not get a yes until the sleep has caught up.
Visionary in Progress has a Sunday intention post, and I think that is a sensible place to write the plan in one line before the finish, for example "Thursday and Friday are for sitting down and nothing else." Everyone in there is building around a life that does not stop for launches, so it needs no explaining.
When the plan will not work
I will forget to use it. A new idea will arrive with beautiful timing and I will probably follow it. Some landings will be rough anyway, because three finishes in five days is a lot for anyone, and the plan leaves that size where it is.
What it changes is the surprise. A crash I can name is a lot cheaper than one I have to explain to myself.
If you want to read more on the same ground, I wrote about the week after a big push, about why the middle of a project is where energy goes, and about running a business on fluctuating capacity. Rest as a working part of the plan is covered in rest as business strategy.
What is in your diary for the three days after?
Think of the next thing you are working towards, a launch or a handover or a deadline with a date on it. When it is done, what will you have booked for the three days that follow?
FAQ
Why do I feel so tired after finishing something big?
There can be many reasons, and I cannot tell you which one is yours. One I notice in myself is that the deadline and the list were organising my days, and when they go, I am left with open decisions and a lot of quiet. If the tiredness lasts or worries you, a doctor or a clinician who knows you is the right person to ask.
Is a crash after a big project a sign I did not really want it?
I do not think so. All three of my finishes were things I had wanted for a long time, and I crashed anyway. The crash arrives after the good thing, so it is easy to read as ingratitude, but wanting something and being flat afterwards can both be true.
How long should I leave after a big finish before taking on anything new?
I do not have a number that is true for everyone. What I am trying is to protect the days straight after a finish and to refuse new decisions until the sleep has caught up. Write new ideas down so they are safe, and say yes when you have rested.
What should I put in my diary for the days after a launch?
One small thing with a clear end that you can finish in a sitting, and nothing booked that you have any say over. The small thing gives the quiet days a shape without asking you to be brilliant.