Burnout Isn’t a Buzzword — It’s a Wake‑Up Call
These past few years have worn us all a little thin. Whether you're holding things together for your family, your clients or your own health — there's a heaviness that many people can’t quite shake.
I hear it in sessions. I feel it in conversations. And I’ve brushed up against it myself: a quieter kind of burnout. Not the dramatic collapse kind, but the creeping kind — where your energy is flat, your resilience is worn down and your usual ways of coping don’t feel like enough.
If that sounds familiar, you're not alone. And no, you’re not failing — your body and mind are telling you something.
The Quiet Weight We're Carrying
In my work, I’ve noticed a pattern: people are holding so much more than they realise. The ripple effects of uncertainty, emotional load, responsibility and the constant pressure to keep it all together are real …. and they build up slowly over time.
Even when life looks ‘fine’ on the outside, the inner experience might feel foggy, fragile or like you’re just... not quite yourself. This is burnout in its modern form, sometimes loud, sometimes whispering — but always asking us to pay attention.
The whisper usually starts as a feeling “I don’t feel like myself” — and if we ignore it, it gets louder. Our job isn’t to push it away, but to listen.
I Dipped My Toe In — And Knew I Had to Act
Earlier this year, life was flowing. I was feeling strong and grounded and showing up for the people I support, and for myself. Then grief hit — the deep, real kind — and something shifted. That grief became the spark for a health issue I didn’t see coming. Suddenly, my energy and digestion were on a completely different playing field. Sleep was disturbed. Anxiety crept in. My usual workouts, my anchor, were no longer possible.
That’s when the toe went in. I could feel burnout on the horizon — not yet immersed, but the signs were unmistakable: low capacity, low resilience and an emotional weight that made simple things feel hard.
And I knew I had to do something. Because burnout is a spectrum — and you don’t have to wait until you're drowning to respond.
What Helped Me (And Might Help You)
Start small. I swapped intense gym sessions for gentle yoga. Some days, even that felt like plenty. You don’t have to push to heal — in fact, pushing is usually the problem.
Track your input, not just your output. When everything feels like too much, come back to basics: nourishment, rest, connection, breath.
Let others in. I leaned on other practitioners, my own support team — people who could hold space while I found my way back. You don’t have to figure it all out alone.
Be gentler than your inner critic thinks you should be. That inner voice might tell you to hurry up and get over it. But healing doesn’t respond to pressure — it responds to care.
Where Are You in the Water?
I think of burnout like a body of water: some people are fully immersed. Others are ankle-deep trying to pretend they’re not. Some, like me earlier this year are just dipping a toe in, but can feel what’s ahead if nothing changes.
Wherever you are, it’s ok. You’re not broken — you’re human. And these signals? They’re your body’s way of asking for something different. Something kinder. Something more sustainable.
You’re Not Meant to Do This Alone
Maybe you're in the early stages. Maybe you’re in it. Either way, you're not stuck — and you're not beyond help.
I work with people who want to reconnect with themselves, heal from the inside out, and rebuild in a way that honours both their biology and their truth. We look at the whole picture: body, mind, life patterns, and the parts of you ready to rise again.
This doesn’t have to be your normal. And it doesn’t have to be done alone.
If you're ready to explore what recovery could look like for you, you’re welcome to reach out.
Images credit - Freepik.com