This isn’t burnout

Sometimes you don’t realize how much something is affecting you until it’s gone. Like a splinter you’ve gone numb to. For over a year—maybe longer—I felt this quiet, creeping weight. Like there wasn’t enough of me to go around, like I was constantly failing to meet the demands of everything I was responsible for.

And I’m not someone who backs down from a challenge. Tenacity is in my DNA. But this was different. It wasn’t just exhaustion—it was erosion. It was a slow, steady loss of something essential: joy, fun, creativity, magic. It wasn’t that those things were gone entirely; they were just spread so thin across so many obligations that I could hardly recognize them anymore.

I toggled between two conflicting narratives in my head. On one hand, I felt like I wasn’t enough. On the other, I felt an overwhelming responsibility to find a way to be enough, trapped between: I have to keep going and I can’t do this anymore. It wasn’t a lack of motivation. It wasn’t a lack of strategy. It was something else entirely.

And now, looking back—after stepping away from that environment for just a few weeks—I see it clearly. I was operating far outside my capacity. And yet, at the time, I was made to believe I should be capable of more. That I should just “manage my time better.”

But here’s what I know now: the workload was part of the problem, but so was my reluctance to say, This is too much. And something has to change today.

Now, I feel light. I feel free. My creativity has returned. The joy, the fun, the magic—it’s back. And I realize something painful but true: I loved the work, but it was killing me. Or maybe, more accurately, I was killing myself trying to keep up.

So I wrote this for you. So you could hear the same internal dialogue I was having, recognize it in yourself, and—hopefully—take agency over what happens next. Because change takes risk. It takes courage. And it takes help from others.

Let’s break it down.

The Lie

Maybe you’ve heard this before:

“You just need to manage your time better.”
“Maybe you should work smarter, not harder.”
“Other people handle this load—why can’t you?”

Maybe you’ve even told yourself these things.

So you push harder. You sacrifice more. You tell yourself it’s just a rough patch, that you’ll figure it out.

But something feels different this time. It’s not just exhaustion. It’s disconnection. Frustration. A slow erosion of everything that made you love the work in the first place.

And here’s the real mind-bender: this isn’t just burnout. It’s something deeper.

Let’s define it.

What’s Really Happening?

Burnout is a word we throw around a lot, but it doesn’t always describe what’s actually happening. To figure out what’s really going on, let’s define a few key terms:

• Overwhelm → More inputs than your brain can process. You feel scattered, frozen, or mentally foggy.

• Stress → A response to an immediate demand. Often temporary and performance-driven.

• Anxiety → Fear of failure in advance (Seth Godin). A future-focused dread, even when nothing is going wrong yet.

• Cognitive Load → Your brain’s processing limit. Every decision, every problem, every unfinished task takes up mental bandwidth.

• Mental Fatigue → The exhaustion that comes from prolonged high-effort thinking, making even simple tasks feel overwhelming.

• Burnout → The final stage of overload. Not just exhaustion, but detachment. A point where motivation doesn’t return, even with rest.

The scariest part?
Most high performers don’t notice burnout creeping in until they’ve lost something they can’t get back.

Signs You’re On the Edge

Burnout isn’t a switch—it’s a slow fade. If you’re feeling any of these, you’re not just tired.

• You start to resent the things you used to love.

• You’re exhausted, but you can’t rest—because the work never stops.

• Your decision-making slows down. Everything feels like too much.

• You’re working harder than ever, but it’s like pushing through mud.

• You feel trapped between “I have to keep going” and “I can’t do this anymore.”

At this stage, you’re approaching the breaking point.

Why Do We Keep Choosing This?

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: We don’t just end up here. We walk toward it.

Not because we want to, but because something deep in us needs to prove, to control, to be seen as capable.

• Perfectionism: If everything isn’t done at the highest level, it’s failure.

• Control: If I don’t do it, it won’t be done right.

• Looking Good: If I admit I’m overwhelmed, people will think I can’t handle it.

• Proving Something: If I just push through this, then I’ll be respected/secure/enough.

We don’t just work hard—we overcommit, overdeliver, and overextend because something inside us believes we must.

And that’s why the hardest part of burnout isn’t recovery. It’s admitting something has to change—and that change has to start with us.

Before diving into these questions, take a step back. Observe yourself as if you were an outsider looking in—without judgment. Consider what’s driving your choices, not just on the surface, but at a deeper level. Often, we continue behaviors because they serve us in some way, even if they are also harming us.

So ask yourself:

• What am I actually getting out of this cycle?

• What am I afraid will happen if I stop pushing so hard?

• What beliefs keeps me stuck in this cycle?

• What reward am I unconsciously chasing by staying overwhelmed?

• Who would I be if I wasn’t trying to prove something?

The truth is, we have more agency, authority, and access than we believe. The first step toward real change is recognizing that we are not just victims of our circumstances—we are also participants. Recognizing this is the first step toward real change.

What Happens Next Is Up to You

Burnout doesn’t fix itself. You either make a choice, or the choice gets made for you.

And this is where most people freeze. Because the choices feel impossible:

• Ask for help? What if that makes me look weak?

• Say no? What if I lose an opportunity—or worse, lose the respect of my leaders?

• Step away? What if I regret it later or it impacts my career trajectory?

But here’s the truth:

• Asking for help isn’t weakness. It’s clarity.

• Saying no isn’t quitting. It’s prioritization.

• Stepping away isn’t failure. It’s self-preservation. Sometimes, stepping away is the only way to reclaim yourself.

Because if you won’t fight for your own energy, no one else will.

Burnout Isn’t the End

If you’ve read this far, something here resonated. Maybe you see yourself in this. Maybe you feel that weight creeping in.

Here’s the takeaway:

Burnout isn’t a badge of honor. It’s a breaking point.

And you don’t have to wait until you crash to do something about it.

But it is your responsibility to do something about it.

You can't transform what you're not aware of, and if this article made you aware of something, here's your opportunity to reclaim your presence, your joy, your future. And remember, you don't have to do it alone.

You can ask for help.