Burnout, Misalignment, & the Journey Back to Yourself
Burnout doesn’t announce itself. It sneaks in quietly—one ignored headache, one missed meal, one “I’ll rest later” at a time—
until suddenly, you’re sobbing in the car after a five-hour meeting, wondering where the version of yourself you once loved disappeared to.
That was me.
Driving home from what should have been a typical workday, I hit a wall I couldn’t push through.
The tears were uncontrollable. The overwhelm unbearable.
My counselor would later call it a breakthrough—but in that moment, it felt like a collapse.
And the most devastating part?
It wasn’t the first time I’d felt that way.
The Long Road to Burnout
This breaking point had been building for months—years, really.
- I was sleeping maybe five hours a night on a good night.
- Weekends meant dead sleep—up to 14 hours at a time—and still waking up tired.
- I was numbing with alcohol.
- I battled migraines monthly.
- I barely ate.
- My cognition declined.
- I cried over simple things, like choosing what to make for dinner.
My body had been whispering to me for so long.
And I just kept silencing it in the name of hustle.
What Burnout Really Feels Like
I thought burnout meant being tired.
I didn’t know it would mean:
- Forgetting how to care for myself
- Feeling numb for weeks on end
- Freezing in the grocery store because I couldn’t make one more decision
- Losing my joy, creativity, and emotional resilience
My spark flickered out.
And I didn’t recognize myself anymore.
Burnout Isn’t About Overwork—It’s About Misalignment
It’s not about hours.
It’s about values that don’t match your environment.
It’s about sacrificing your energy in systems that drain you dry.
It’s about being told to “just push through” when what you need is to be seen, supported, and softened.
When I Finally Spoke Up
As a general manager, I was expected to hold it all together—
to lead by example, to carry the weight of everyone else, to never let it show.
But when I asked for support or tried to advocate for my mental health,
I was met with silence or subtle shame.
It felt like needing help made me a liability.
The strongest thing I ever did was stop pretending I was okay.
Reclaiming Myself
I leaned into the people who could hold space for me:
My husband. My family. My counselor. My truest friends.
They didn’t try to fix me.
They didn’t give advice.
They reflected me back to myself, gently and with love.
That final breaking point—the car ride, the tears, the conversation at Disney—
wasn’t the end of the story.
It was the beginning of reclaiming my life.
I Walked Away
I quit my job.
I walked away from a version of success that nearly broke me.
And I took real time to come back to myself.
I unplugged.
I reconnected with nature.
I cooked food that made me feel good.
I wrote. I created. I healed.
I stopped asking what I “should” do
and started asking what I actually wanted to feel.
Burnout Wasn’t My Ending—It Was My Invitation
It was a wake-up call. A sacred pause. A realignment.
This is no longer sustainable. Something has to change.
And if you’re reading this and it hits close to home—
if you're nodding your head, seeing yourself in my words—
I want you to know:
You are not broken.
You are not lazy.
You are not failing.
You are waking up.
And the Version of You on the Other Side?
She’s softer.
She’s stronger.
She’s more herself than ever before.
She’s building a life that feels good—not just looks good.
You don’t have to earn your rest.
You don’t have to prove your worth.
You don’t have to keep burning down your body to build something that doesn’t even fulfill you.
