It's Not You, It's the System
What I Wish I'd Known About Burnout
Last week, I had coffee with a friend who looked exactly like I did three years ago. Dark circles that no amount of concealer could hide. That brittle smile that says “I'm fine” while everything inside screams otherwise. She kept apologizing for being scattered, for forgetting our plans twice, for ordering a third espresso at 4 PM.
“I just need to get through this busy season,” she said, the same lie I told myself for about eighteen months straight.
Here's what I wanted to tell her and what I wish someone had told me: Yes, it’s a busy season, but if you don’t change something fast, you’re going to burnout…and no amount of coffee is going to save you from that.
The Exhaustion That Sleep Can't Touch
I used to think burnout was just being really, really tired. Like, cartoon-character-tired where you drag yourself around with your tongue hanging out. But that's stress. Maybe overwhelm at worst.
Real burnout is different. It's waking up after eight hours of sleep and feeling like you haven't slept in weeks. It's that bone-deep exhaustion that a weekend in Costa Rica can't fix. Trust me, I tried. Twice.
The World Health Organization calls burnout “chronic workplace stress that has not been successfully managed.” So, just manage it. Ha! If only it were that easy, right?
Think of it this way: Stress is a sprint. You're running hard, heart pounding, but there's a finish line. Overwhelm is juggling a tight deadline at work, your kiddo’s science project that they really should be doing themselves, volunteer duties that sprung up last minute but you’d feel guilty if you said no, dishes that won’t clean themselves, and a bunch of other non-essential work that demands your immediate time and attention. It’s chaos, but you can kind of handle it because you’re no stranger to chaos.
Burnout is when the ground beneath your feet starts cracking. Slowly at first, then all at once.
I remember driving through Costa Rica years ago, seeing signs warning about falling debris on mountain roads. Constant rain (during rainy season!) erodes the soil until entire chunks of mountainside just... collapse. One day you're driving on a perfectly good road, the next day fifty feet of it has tumbled into the valley below. I saw that with my own eyes and was too terrified to snap a quick photo for the gram.
That's burnout. That's what happened to my motivation, my energy, my ability to care about work that used to light me up.
The Quiet Cracking No One Talks About
Here's something that's been keeping me up at night lately: We've gotten really good at spotting the dramatic burnouts. The person who snaps in a meeting, the high performer who suddenly quits via email, the coworker who has a breakdown in the bathroom. But what about the quiet cracking? The slow leak of enthusiasm, the gradual dimming of someone's spark.
In our remote and hybrid world, people are mastering the art of looking functional while slowly dying inside.
I see it everywhere now that I know what to look for.
The person who used to volunteer for everything now just does their basic job.
The creative who stops sharing out-of-the-box ideas.
The leader who stops protecting their team from unreasonable requests because they’re tired of pushing back.
It’s called “quiet cracking,” and it's everywhere.
What Burnout Actually Feels Like (From the Inside)
The clinical markers are straightforward enough: profound exhaustion that rest doesn't fix, cynical detachment from work, and a crushing sense of ineffectiveness. But let me tell you what it really feels like.
It's checking your calendar and feeling like you want to run and hide.
It's snapping at your partner because they loaded the dishwasher “wrong.”
It's staring at emails that would have taken you five minutes to answer last year and feeling paralyzed.
It's lying awake at 2 AM, mentally rehearsing conversations you need to have, problems you need to solve, fires you need to put out. Then dragging yourself through the next day like you're moving through honey.
It's that moment when someone asks, “How are you doing?” and you realize you genuinely don’t know anymore—or worse—you’re afraid to speak the truth.
Sometimes the most courageous thing you can do isn't pushing through. It's pulling over.
You’re not alone. Research shows that the most engaged, most driven people burn out first. We're the canaries in the coal mine. When your best people start showing signs of burnout, that's not a personal failing. That’s a system screaming for help.
The Myths That Keep Us Stuck
Let me share the three biggest lies I believed about burnout just in case you're believing them too.
Lie #1: Burnout means you're weak.
False. Dead wrong. I've worked with military veterans, doctors, and startup founders. Some of the toughest people I know have faced burnout. They aren’t weak. They are trying to apply “hard work” principles to systems that extract more than they replenish.
Lie #2: A good vacation will fix it.
I spent a week in Jamaica convinced I'd come back refreshed and ready to tackle everything. By day three back at work, I felt worse than before I left. Breaks help, but if the broken system is waiting for you when you return, the signs of burnout come back with a vengeance.
Lie #3: Only lazy people burn out.
This might be the most dangerous myth of all. High performers, perfectionists, and people who care deeply about their work are actually at highest risk. We're the ones who keep pouring from empty cups, who mistake exhaustion and busy-ness for dedication.
According to Mercer’s 2024-2025 Global Talent Trends report, 82% of workers surveyed are experiencing warning signs of burnout.
Those aren't individual failures. That's a system-wide breakdown.
The Courage to Stop
Here's what I've learned after hitting the wall (and watching others do the same) more times than I care to admit: Sometimes the most courageous thing you can do isn't pushing through. It's pulling over.
I used to think strength meant never slowing down, never admitting when I was overwhelmed, never asking for help. I wore my overcommitment like armor, proof that I was all-in, that I could handle anything.
Sustainable work—the kind that actually builds something lasting—is like taking a long road trip. Your body is the vehicle that gets you there. And when those warning lights start flashing on your dashboard, the smart move isn't to put electrical tape over them. It's to pop the hood and check your system (the same can be said for your organization’s practices). We have a long road ahead. Make sure that you have what you need for staying power.
The hardest part is admitting that maybe, just maybe, the problem isn't your time management skills or your work ethic or your ability to handle pressure. Maybe the problem is that you're operating in a system that was never designed to be sustainable in the first place.
What I'm Learning to Do Differently
I'm still figuring this out, to be honest. But here's what's helping:
I’ve stopped wearing “I’m busy” as a badge of honor. When someone asks how I'm doing, I’ve been experimenting with actual honesty instead of “crazy busy but good!”
I’m learning to distinguish between what feels urgent and what’s actually important. Most things that feel like emergencies are just someone else’s poor planning becoming my problem. I’m more intentional about the problems I choose to take on for others and decline the ones that will cost me more than I’m prepared to give.
And I’m getting better at spotting the warning signs in myself and others. That shorter fuse, those headaches that won't quit, the sleep that doesn’t refresh you anymore…these aren't character flaws. They're data points.
The Question That Changes Everything
I know it seems like you may not have enough time to plan and reflect, but what if the next time you feel compelled to push through, you pause for 10 minutes instead? What might that extra breathing room do for you? In my case, it saves me from sacrificing my health for my work.
Here’s what I want to ask you, the same question I wish someone had asked me years ago: Where in your life have you confused “being strong” with “ignoring the signs”?
Burnout isn’t a badge of honor that you get when you’ve been thrown into the deep end for too long. It’s not proof that you care more than everyone else. It’s feedback that something fundamental needs to change.
And recognizing that isn’t a sign that you’re giving up on your goals and ambitions. It’s actually the first step toward sticking around long enough to enjoy (emphasis on enjoy) the fruits of your labor.
Dr. Heather Walker is an organizational psychologist and founder of Lead with Levity. She helps leaders create workplaces where people thrive because they know where they want to go, they trust each other, and they stay close from start to finish.