Burnout. It’s a word that gets thrown around often, but unless you’ve truly experienced it, it’s hard to describe just how devastating it can be—not just in the moment but in the long-term aftermath.
I know burnout all too well. I’ve felt the creeping run-up, the crushing peak, and the slow, overwhelming aftermath. And I want to share my story, not as a warning but as a reminder that burnout is not the badge of honour society sometimes makes it out to be.
The Run-Up to Burnout
When I worked in hospitality, I had a false sense of importance. I convinced myself I was indispensable, that the work wouldn’t get done without me, and that I had to hold everything in my head because no one else could. The reality was quite different - but I wasn't thinking straight.
But here’s the truth: no job should ever make you feel like the world will collapse if you take a step back. None of us are irreplaceable, and holding on to that belief is one of the fastest ways to burnout.
For me, the run-up was subtle at first—long hours, five-day weeks that bled into evenings, and constant questioning of my efforts. Yet I kept going, fuelled by the belief that I was needed. I worked 60–70 hours a week for four weeks straight, all after a year of relentless work.
On paper, things seemed fine. But inside, I was crumbling.
I hardly saw my family, and when I did, my mind was elsewhere. I wasn’t acting like myself. I wasn’t happy at work. And I certainly wasn’t healthy.
The Peak of Burnout
When the physical symptoms hit, I was too scared to stop. I felt I had to protect my team from HQ management, so I kept going—even when I got seriously ill.
I’ll never forget driving home one night, questioning if I could even make it. When I did get home, I collapsed into bed and stayed there for three days. By the Friday before Christmas, I couldn’t breathe properly. I had no idea if I’d eaten or drunk anything in those days.
A trip to out-of-hours care confirmed what I already feared: something was seriously wrong. After a chest X-ray, I was diagnosed with pneumonia—advanced enough to land me in hospital for three days.
I remember looking at the hospital bed and thinking only one thing: sleep. I didn’t care about anything else because I was so utterly drained.
The Aftermath
That hospital stay changed everything. I quit my job. Despite offers to move to a “less taxing” role with a reduced salary, I knew I could never go back. And honestly, I’ve never regretted that decision.
In the months that followed, recovery was slow. Simple tasks like walking up stairs left me breathless. My left lung still doesn’t forgive me.
But I felt something else, too—freedom.
The emotional toll of burnout was enormous, and yet leaving gave me clarity: no job is worth that much of yourself.
Burnout Isn’t Just Feeling Tired
Burnout isn’t about being a little run down. It’s not something a weekend off will fix. It’s exhaustion on every level—physical, emotional, and psychological. It can cause lasting damage to your health and your sense of self.
Even now, as someone who runs their own business and admits to being a workaholic, I’m careful. I still push myself too hard sometimes, but I’ve learned to recognise the signs. I know when to adjust my schedule and pull back before things spiral.
Because burnout doesn’t happen overnight—it builds slowly, quietly, until it hits you like a train.
How to Avoid Burnout
Recognise the Signs Early: Exhaustion, lack of focus, emotional instability, or losing interest in things you enjoy are all red flags.
Set Boundaries: No job is worth sacrificing your health or personal life. Learn to say no and delegate when needed.
Prioritise Recovery: Rest isn’t a reward—it’s essential. Take breaks, get enough sleep, and allow yourself time to recharge.
Ask for Help: Whether it’s talking to a manager, seeking support from colleagues, or getting professional help, you don’t have to carry the load alone.
Reflect on Your Goals: Are you working towards something meaningful, or just working for the sake of it? Align your efforts with what truly matters.
Final Thoughts
Looking back, I realise that burnout taught me some of the hardest but most valuable lessons. I’ve learned to value my health, my time, and my boundaries above all else.
Burnout isn’t inevitable, but if you feel it creeping in, take it seriously. No amount of money, recognition, or loyalty is worth sacrificing yourself.
Take care of yourself, because no job will ever do it for you.
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