I’ve talked about how I reached my first burnout experience four years ago, and what that felt like for me. You might be wondering, how did I end up here again?
Trust me, I’ve wondered the same thing.
It’s been a jumble of stories in my head, tangled up with moments of clarity and moments of confusion. So now I’m putting it all down onto ‘paper’ (albeit digital) in an attempt to make sense of it.
Writing things out always helps me step back and see what’s glaringly obvious – because when everything is swirling around in my mind, it’s much harder to recognise the patterns.
If you’re going through something similar, this might help you too.
Burnout is so often misunderstood. People think it’s just about being too busy or too stressed, but that’s only part of the picture. Burnout isn’t always dramatic – it can creep up slowly, accumulating over time until one day, your body forces you to stop. And often, by the time you recognise it, you’re already deep in it.
I wish I had someone sharing all of this with me when I was going through it – someone who had lived it and was actively working to escape it.
To understand how I got to burnout round two, I need to start by looking at how I dealt with the first round.
Part One: The First Time I Hit the Wall
Pushing Through Until I Couldn’t
The first time I experienced burnout, it took me a long time to accept that I needed a proper break. My doctor had been urging me to take time off, but every time she suggested it, I brushed it aside.
I was in a high-stress role as a Customer Success Director at a big technology company, handling customer escalations daily, responsible for multiple large, strategic accounts. It felt impossible to step away.
When she strongly recommended I take a break, I told her I couldn’t because I was too busy at work. The idea of stepping away from the chaos felt more stressful than staying in it.
Eventually, in January 2021, I gave in and took two weeks off as sick leave.
Even that felt terrible.
I had been with the company for ten years and had accrued 96 sick days, yet taking just two weeks off felt like a betrayal of my responsibilities.
To make things worse, it was one of our busiest times of the year. I knew I’d be coming back to a pile of work, and the thought of returning to the avalanche of financial year planning and ongoing customer crises made me anxious the entire time I was away.
When the Break Didn’t Help
The break didn’t help. If anything, it made things worse.
I felt guilty, the backlog of work had only grown, and my manager didn’t seem to understand what I was going through. In our one-on-ones, I tried to bring up how I was feeling, but the conversations always gravitated back to tasks. It wasn’t about me – it was about the work.
By April 2021, my symptoms had worsened – persistent shoulder pain, muscle aches, digestive issues, insomnia, and relentless headaches. My doctor urged me again to take time off.
I took another two weeks, but the cycle repeated. I came back, the backlog was worse, and I felt even more overwhelmed.
The Breaking Point
Then came a breaking point.
A major customer incident had me working around the clock – coordinating multiple teams, providing updates, and ensuring support teams across different time zones stayed aligned. Meanwhile, another customer account was filled with internal team tensions and was becoming increasingly stressful.
On top of all this, COVID lockdowns were in full effect, which meant that even outside of work, everything felt heavy
My mother, who suffers from anxiety and depression, was struggling terribly. She lived in another country, and I was calling her every morning at 6 AM for an hour to support her. I felt responsible for keeping her afloat while barely keeping myself together.
And I was drinking heavily – using alcohol as a way to escape the stress, though in reality, it only made things worse.
I was running on empty.
I broke down in my doctor’s office.
This time, she didn’t just suggest I take a break – she told me I had to.
Her words hit me hard:
It won’t be good for you, it won’t be good for the company, it won’t be good for your future.
She wrote me a prescription for anti-depressants, and gave me a medical certificate giving me eight weeks off.
I was terrified about telling my manager about the time off. The tension was already high, and I dreaded the conversation.
HR was extremely supportive, but my manager asked me to create a transition plan before I could take leave. I asked if a transition plan could be developed with whoever would be covering for me, but I was asked to complete the plan first before they assigned cover.
After months of back and forth, I finally started my leave in September 2021 – eight months after I had first hit the wall.
Part Two: Recovering From Burnout (Or So I Thought)
When my leave finally started, it was an incredible feeling.
At first, I felt the pressure to do something with this time. Everyone I spoke to was excited for me – asking what I was going to accomplish, what I was going to do with this time. But that just stressed me out even more.
I didn’t want to do anything. I just wanted to exhale.
For the first couple of weeks, I focused on untangling my brain. Fortunately lockdowns were easing, and we were allowed outside. I walked in nature, sat on park benches I had always rushed past wishing I could stop to enjoy, and I lay in the grass for hours staring at the sky.
My doctor put me on a mental health treatment plan, which gave me discounted therapy and proactive check-ins.
I also attempted to quit drinking multiple times. I would manage a few weeks at a time, but I wasn’t yet strong enough to resist social pressure.
I created a personal wellbeing plan focusing on my mental and physical health, and rebuilding my confidence.
Returning to Work – And Realising It Wasn’t Enough
When I returned to work in November 2021, it was like nothing had happened.
HR did a quick check-in, asking if I was ok, and of course, I said yes. I felt like I had stretched the friendship too much already by taking time off, so the idea of coming back and saying I still wasn’t ok felt impossible.
I was better, but not fully healed. I was still recovering, still figuring things out. But I threw myself back into my heavy workload.
And then, serendipitously, a former manager – someone I had worked for years earlier and had a great relationship with – contacted me. He was starting a new team and wanted to know if I’d be interested in a new role. The role was internal, operational, and exactly what I needed. No more customer escalations. No more crisis management. Just structured work with a supportive leader.
I jumped at the opportunity.
I applied, interviewed, and got the role.
But telling my current manager was brutal.
He was furious. He told me he felt blindsided and that I should have told him I was struggling. I reminded him that I had tried – multiple times – but every time, our conversations had been redirected back to my task list.
His response?
Well, we are running a business here, not a charity.
That one sentence made me 100% certain I was making the right decision.
I had given everything I could to that role. I had pushed through burnout, returned to work, and still kept pushing. And yet, my well-being was never the priority – only the work was.
I moved into my new role in January 2022.
It was much better. My work was valued. I felt respected.
But it wasn’t a magic fix. Something still wasn’t quite right.
Finding Purpose in Passion Projects
When I returned to work, I joined forces with a few colleagues from around the world who were also passionate about mental health. Together, we founded an employee resource group focused on mental health awareness and advocacy.
That group became a lifeline.
At the same time, I took a Mental Health First Aid course, hoping to learn how to better support my mother – and maybe even help myself.
I threw myself into helping others because I knew I couldn’t be the only one feeling this way. I wanted to reach those suffering in silence, to let them know they weren’t alone. And in many ways, I believed that by doing so, I’d also be helping myself. After all, if I was encouraging others to prioritise their well-being, wouldn’t I have to follow my own advice?
It’s so easy to tell others to rest, to set boundaries, to take care of themselves – while completely ignoring your own needs.
One thing I do appreciate is that I work for a company that supports these kinds of volunteer initiatives, which made it easier for me to dedicate time to something that truly mattered to me.
Part Three: The Slow Slide Toward Burnout Again
By January 2023, the world was finally emerging from the weight of COVID. But just as things started looking up in that regard, another storm rolled in – this time in the form of mass layoffs.
My workplace was one of many in the tech industry cutting jobs, and my manager was among those let go. The team I had been in for just a year was disbanded. A new global initiative we had built – something we had worked tirelessly on all year and were ready to launch – was scrapped.
At first, I was assigned temporarily to another manager while leadership figured out where to place me. My colleague and I, both in the same situation, continued working on what we assumed was still a viable project. We didn’t yet realise our work was about to be discarded.
Then we were officially reassigned. My new manager was based in Europe, so I adjusted my time zones again, setting up fresh one-on-ones and trying to acclimate to the change. But before I could even settle in, another round of redundancies hit. More restructuring. More instability.
I was moved again, to a completely different team.
Now my new manager was based in Canada. So, once again, I adapted. New one-on-ones. New time zone adjustments. New expectations.
Then another restructure, and my manager and my role changed again.
At this point, I’d had five different managers in the space of two years.
Each transition moved me further away from the work I truly cared about.
Leaning Into Passion Projects to Stay Afloat
The more I felt lost in the corporate machine, the more I poured myself into passion projects that felt meaningful.
- I became a Mental Health First Aid Instructor because I wanted to make it easier for others to access this valuable training.
- I helped coordinate an employee well-being conference.
- I partnered with teams to run mental health events across different offices.
- I led large-scale volunteering initiatives to connect employees with meaningful community work.
All of these projects gave me a sense of purpose, but they also kept me extremely busy.
I’ve been incredibly fortunate to work for an employer that supports volunteer initiatives like these, and I truly believe in the work I was doing. But at the same time, I wasn’t addressing the bigger picture:
I was still burning out.
Another Restructure – and the Breaking Point
Then came yet another restructuring.
The team I was in was merged with another group, and my role changed again. This time, I was being pushed further into sales-focused work – moving even further away from what I wanted to do.
At the same time, family challenges were weighing on me, and I felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility to help in any way I possibly could.
As all of this was happening, my health issues began creeping back in.
- I discovered a lump in my breast (thankfully, it turned out to be nothing serious).
- I developed sciatic pain (an MRI showed no nerve impingement, but the pain persisted).
- I wasn’t sleeping well again.
- I felt overwhelmed by everything I had on my plate.
I still believed I could push through it. I had before, hadn’t I?
But then something deeper happened – something that made me realise that this time was different.
The Emotional Detox: Facing the Root Cause
I had every intention of working through all of this.
But in the background, something deeper was happening – something I now recognise as the real tipping point for me.
By this point in late 2024, I had been alcohol-free for a year and a half.
I had made so many positive changes in my life, yet I suddenly found myself overwhelmed by old memories – things from my past that I hadn’t thought about in years. It was as if everything I had buried, everything I had used work and alcohol to numb, was now resurfacing all at once.
I felt an intense wave of depression.
I kept questioning everything.
- Why was I struggling with burnout so badly?
- Was there a deeper reason?
- Was it something from my past that I hadn’t fully dealt with?
- Was I looking for justification, for an explanation that could make sense of it all?
I now recognise this as what I call the emotional detox – something I’ve already written about separately.
But at the time, it was overwhelming.
At this point, I knew something was wrong.
I went to my doctor again. She listened carefully, then looked at me with concern.
She told me:
You’ve done a great job holding it together as long as you have – but you need another break.
This time, I didn’t hesitate.
I didn’t feel quite as bad as I did during my first burnout – I didn’t think I was at Stage 12 again. But I was hovering dangerously close – maybe at a 9 or 10 on the burnout scale.
And as my doctor reminded me, if I didn’t take a break now, I would just end up back at Stage 12.
Did I really want to wait for that?
Between that, my physical symptoms, my growing sense of feeling lost in the system at work, and the mounting personal stress, taking a break wasn’t just a good idea – it was necessary.
My doctor was right. Again.
So, in December 2024, I took another break – this time, two months off, from just before Christmas until the end of February 2025.
A Different Experience This Time
One of the most notable differences this time around was how my manager handled my need for a break.
When I first burned out in 2021, the conversation with my then-manager was difficult. There was resistance, a focus on work logistics over well-being, and I felt like I had to justify myself at every step.
This time, it was the complete opposite.
My current manager simply listened and supported me. When I told her I needed time off, she asked no further questions beyond:
How can I support you?
That moment meant everything.
It made me realise just how much of an impact leadership can have on someone’s ability to recover, and how vital it is for companies to foster cultures of genuine support.
This is why I care so deeply about mental health in the workplace – because managers make all the difference.
Final Thoughts
This Isn’t About Blame
As I reflect on everything, I want to be clear: this isn’t about blame.
The reality is, work environments are constantly evolving, and in the last few years, many industries have faced massive changes. Companies have had to make tough decisions, and leaders have been under enormous pressure.
I can’t blame my employer or my manager, any more than I can blame myself. Sometimes it’s just a perfect storm.
When I was feeling stronger, I handled these kinds of shifts much better. But burnout isn’t about one isolated event – it’s about the compounding effect of stress over time.
What This Experience Has Taught Me
So now that this is all “on paper”, what can I see?
Burnout isn’t just about workload – it’s about misalignment with values, lack of boundaries, and not prioritising personal well-being.
Pausing isn’t the same as healing – I took breaks, but I didn’t always address the deeper patterns driving my burnout.
External pressures won’t change unless I change my approach – work, restructures, and life challenges will always happen, but my reaction to them needs to evolve.
Passion projects can sustain you, but they can’t fix burnout – I found meaning in mental health initiatives, but I also needed to take care of myself.
I need to listen to my own advice – the advice I give others about self-care, boundaries, and priorities applies to me, too.
What Comes Next?
As I write this, I’m almost at the end of my break.
I return to work in mid-March, after a much-needed holiday – a cruise that I had already booked for early March.
But this time, I’ve been doing things differently.
- More therapy.
- More introspection.
- More clarity.
Most importantly, I’ve promised myself:
🚫 There won’t be a Burnout Round Three.
Because this isn’t just about workload or stress. Burnout isn’t something that has a one-time fix. It’s a journey. And if the deeper root causes aren’t addressed, it will keep happening – no matter how many breaks I take or how many times I change roles.
For me, this means being clear on my values and making sure that everything I do aligns with them. It means not just chasing a pay-check but ensuring that my work, my time, and my energy are driven by what truly matters to me – not by external expectations or what I think I “should” be doing.
At this stage of my life, I have the privilege of experience.
I know now that I can’t keep forcing myself into roles that don’t align with me.
And I know that burnout isn’t just a work problem – it’s a deeper problem that requires deeper solutions.
So, the journey continues.
But this time, I’m making sure it leads to a place that truly feels right for me.
If You’re Reading This, Ask Yourself:
- Are you ignoring early warning signs? That creeping exhaustion, the Sunday night dread, the constant overwhelm?
- Are you aligned with your values, or are you just pushing through?
- Would you give yourself the same advice you’d give a friend? If a friend told you they were feeling this way, would you tell them to keep going? Or would you tell them to stop and take care of themselves?
- Are you waiting for burnout to force you to stop, or are you ready to take control before it happens?
- If nothing changes, where will you be in six months? A year?
And if you’re a people manager:
- Do you know how your team members really feel about their work? Or are you assuming they’re fine?
- Are your one-on-ones just status updates, or do you check in on well-being too?
- Would your team consider you a supportive manager they can trust? If one of your team members was on the verge of burnout, would they come to you? Or suffer in silence?
- Have you noticed a team member working longer hours but achieving less? Burnout doesn’t always look like someone disengaging – it often looks like overworking until they can’t anymore.
- Do you create a culture where rest and balance are encouraged – or just talked about?
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