Tag: wellness

  • Why Rest Isn’t Fixing It: Burnout in People Who Are Still Coping

    You’re still showing up. Still meeting deadlines, still answering messages, still holding things together. And yet something is off. There’s a heaviness that doesn’t lift after a weekend, and a sense that you’re running on something you can’t quite refill.

    You might be wondering whether you’re simply not coping well enough. Or whether everyone feels like this, and you’re making too much of it.

    Most of what’s written about burnout describes people who have already hit a wall: signed off work, unable to get out of bed, unable to go on. But many of the people I see in the therapy room haven’t reached that point. They’re still functioning. And that’s exactly why it’s so easy for them, and everyone around them, to miss what’s happening.

    Photo by Anna Tarazevich on Pexels.com

    Still Functioning Isn’t the Same as Being Well

    The scale of this is easy to underestimate. According to the Health and Safety Executive, around 964,000 workers in Great Britain were affected by work-related stress, depression or anxiety in 2024/25, with an estimated 22.1 million working days lost. And those figures only count the people who recognised it and reported it.

    The people I worry about most are the ones who look fine. The reliable ones, the capable ones, the ones everyone else leans on. They’re often very good at explaining their symptoms away. The headache is dehydration. The exhaustion is just a busy month. The tension in the shoulders is bad posture. Because they keep delivering, the people around them read their output as a sign that all is well, and so do they.

    The early signs of burnout are often small and easy to dismiss. Tiredness that a good night’s sleep doesn’t touch, or waking up already exhausted. Feeling flat, cynical or detached about work you used to care about. Snapping at the people you love over things that wouldn’t normally bother you. Brain fog: losing your thread mid-sentence, rereading the same email three times. Doing the same amount of work, but needing far more effort to manage it. Pulling back from friends, or putting off tasks you’d once have done without thinking.

    None of these on their own means you’re burned out. But if several have been building for months, it’s worth paying attention.

    What Burnout Actually Is

    It helps to be clear about what the word means, because it gets used for almost everything now.

    The World Health Organization describes burnout as a syndrome resulting from chronic workplace stress that hasn’t been successfully managed. It has three parts: exhaustion, a growing mental distance or cynicism towards your job, and a drop in how effective you feel at work. Importantly, the WHO classifies it as an occupational phenomenon, not a medical condition, and says the term should only be used for experiences at work.

    That definition is useful. It reminds us that burnout isn’t a personal weakness, it’s a response to working conditions. But it’s also limiting. Many people are exhausted by things that have nothing to do with a job: caring for a family member, parenting, illness, or the effort of fitting into a world that wasn’t designed for them. The tiredness is just as real, even if the official word doesn’t quite fit.

    Photo by Yan Krukau on Pexels.com

    Why the Holiday Didn’t Work

    One of the most common things I hear is: “I took two weeks off, and I was back to feeling awful within days.”

    There’s research on this. A review led by Jessica de Bloom found that holidays do improve health and wellbeing. But the benefits fade fast. By somewhere between about twelve days and a month after returning to work, little or nothing was left.

    This tells us something important. If burnout were simply a matter of running out of energy, rest would refill the tank and that would be that. But the tank keeps draining, because whatever was draining it is still there when you get back.

    Christina Maslach, who has spent decades researching burnout, describes it less as a problem of tiredness and more as a problem of fit: a mismatch between a person and their working life. With her colleague Michael Leiter, she identified six areas where that mismatch tends to happen: too much work, too little control, too little reward or recognition, a lack of supportive community, unfairness, and a clash of values.

    That last one is the one I find people overlook most. You can have a manageable workload and still burn out if you’re spending your days doing things that go against what you care about. Sometimes the exhaustion isn’t really about doing too much. It’s about living, day after day, in a way that doesn’t feel like you.

    What We Don’t Know

    You may have read that burnout is caused by cortisol “dysregulation”, or that it damages your stress-response system in a specific, measurable way. This explanation is everywhere. The evidence for it is much shakier than it sounds.

    An early systematic review, back in 2011, found no reliable biological markers of burnout. A more recent review, looking at 48 studies of cortisol, found the results all over the place: some found higher cortisol in people with burnout, some found lower, and many found no link at all. The researchers concluded that cortisol isn’t clearly associated with burnout, though they suggested the body’s stress response may change as burnout goes on, which could explain the mixed results.

    I’m telling you this not to make burnout sound less real. It’s very real. But I think it matters to be honest about what’s known. You don’t need a blood test to prove that you’re struggling. Your experience counts as evidence on its own.

    Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

    Neurodivergent Burnout: When It Isn’t Only About Work

    For many neurodivergent people, exhaustion doesn’t come only from work. It comes from everything: the noise, the lights, the social rules, the constant effort of monitoring how you’re coming across.

    Autistic people have described this for years, and researchers have started to listen. In a 2020 study, Dora Raymaker and her colleagues worked with autistic adults to describe what they called autistic burnout: long-lasting exhaustion, loss of skills and abilities, and reduced tolerance to sensory input, usually lasting three months or more. Participants linked it to chronic life stress, masking and a mismatch between what was expected of them and the support they had.

    This is different from the WHO’s version of burnout. It isn’t limited to work, and it can affect every part of life. It’s also worth knowing that this research is still young; the 2020 study was small and qualitative. Research on burnout in ADHD is even thinner. But many neurodivergent adults recognise themselves immediately in these descriptions, and that recognition matters.

    If this sounds familiar, standard advice to “rest and recover” may not be enough. Recovery often means looking at the load you carry every day, not just at work, and finding ways to reduce it.

    Burnout or Depression?

    People often ask me whether what they’re feeling “counts” as burnout, or whether it might be depression.

    The honest answer is that the line between them is blurrier than most articles suggest. In a large analysis of fourteen studies, Renzo Bianchi and his colleagues found that the core of burnout, exhaustion, was very strongly linked with depression, more strongly than it was with the other parts of burnout. Some researchers now argue that burnout may be better understood as a form of work-related depression. Others disagree. The debate is still going.

    A rough rule of thumb many clinicians use is this: burnout tends to be tied to work, and often eases a little when you’re away from it. Depression tends to spread across your whole life, with a heaviness or hopelessness that doesn’t lift during a holiday or a good weekend. It’s a useful starting point, but it’s not a reliable test.

    If you’re feeling hopeless, if the low mood has spread into every part of your life, if your sleep or appetite has changed significantly, or if things have stopped feeling worth it, please speak to your GP. And if you’re having thoughts of not wanting to be here, you can call Samaritans any time on 116 123.

    If you’d like to get a clearer sense of where you are, the Burnout Assessment Tool is a free, validated questionnaire you can find online. It doesn’t replace a conversation with a professional, but it can help you put words to what you’re experiencing.

    Photo by Emir Kenter on Pexels.com

    What Actually Helps

    The usual advice — sleep more, exercise, try mindfulness — isn’t wrong. Sleep and movement do support recovery, and mindfulness-based programmes have shown modest benefits for burnout in research. But on their own, they can feel like trying to empty a bath while the tap is still running.

    Research on recovery, particularly by the psychologist Sabine Sonnentag, suggests that rest is not all the same. What seems to matter is psychological detachment: actually switching off from work in your head, not just physically leaving it. She also found benefits from activities that feel relaxing, activities that give you a sense of mastery or learning something new, and having some control over how you spend your free time. An evening scrolling while thinking about tomorrow’s meeting isn’t the same kind of rest as an evening absorbed in something you love.

    But the bigger lesson from the research is that the causes often lie outside the individual. Reviews of interventions for doctors, for example, have found that changes to how work is organised tend to have stronger effects than programmes aimed at individuals alone. That’s an important message for anyone who has been told that burnout is a resilience problem. Often it isn’t.

    So it can help to ask two kinds of questions. The first is about the symptoms: how can I sleep, move and switch off a little better? The second is about the causes: what is draining me, and what would need to change? That might mean a conversation about workload. It might mean learning to say no. And sometimes it means a bigger question about whether the life you’re living still fits who you are.

    When to Talk to Someone

    Self-help has its limits, particularly when burnout has been building for a long time, or when it’s tangled up with neurodivergence, or with questions about whether your work or your life still feels like yours.

    Therapy can help when rest no longer works, when the same patterns keep repeating, or when you can see the problem clearly but can’t find a way through it alone. It can be a place to slow down, make sense of what’s been happening, and work out what needs to change, at a pace that keeps your life stable.

    Trueform Therapy offers one-to-one sessions in person in Cardiff and online across the UK and EU, with a particular focus on burnout and neurodivergent-affirming support. It’s designed for people who are still functioning but struggling: the people for whom “just take a break” has never been the whole answer.

    Taking It Seriously

    Burnout often looks like “fine” from the outside, especially in people who have spent years adapting to environments that weren’t built for them. That doesn’t make it any less real, or any less deserving of support.

    If you’ve recognised yourself here, that recognition matters. Whether your next step is a conversation about your workload, a change in how you rest, or a conversation with someone who can help you untangle it, you don’t have to wait until you’ve hit a wall.


    If You Want to Explore These Ideas Further

    If you’d like to understand burnout as a mismatch between people and their work, Christina Maslach and Michael Leiter’s The Burnout Challenge (2022) brings together decades of their research in an accessible way, with a strong focus on what organisations can change.

    Emily and Amelia Nagoski’s Burnout: The Secret to Solving the Stress Cycle (2019) is a warmer, more personal book about why stress builds up in the body and what helps to release it, written with women’s experience particularly in mind.

    And if you’d like to look at the research directly:

  • Burnout in January: How to Navigate Comparison, Shame, and Pressure at the Start of the Year

    The Pressure of a New Year

    If you’re heading into January and everyone around you seems to be rewriting their habits, setting goals, or talking about the year ahead with excitement, you might feel like you’re supposed to join in. You might notice the pressure creeping in from conversations, adverts, or even just the tone of the month. January is often framed as a time for momentum. A reset. A new beginning.

    But when you’re burnt out, it rarely feels like that.

    What Burnout Does to Your January

    Burnout is often dismissed as simply being tired, when in reality it develops over time as a result of emotional and physical exhaustion. It’s the sense that your internal resources have been running at a deficit for a while. When you’re in that place, January can arrive with a sense of heaviness. Instead of feeling like a beginning, it can feel like another demand you don’t have the capacity to meet.

    You might wake up and realise you still don’t feel rested, even after time off. Your brain may feel slower, your mood flatter, and your patience thinner. These are all common experiences when stress has been high for too long. Nothing about feeling like this makes you weak or inadequate. It just shows that the strain has been there for a while.

    Why Resolutions Feel Impossible

    And when that’s your starting point, the idea of setting resolutions can feel impossible. You might look at the people around you and think, “They’re starting new routines. Why can’t I?”


    It’s understandable to think something is wrong with you when motivation doesn’t appear on cue. But burnout affects the parts of you that handle planning, concentration, decision-making, and drive. When your energy is already low, trying to force motivation doesn’t work. It can even make you feel worse.

    The Loop of Comparison and Shame

    This is usually where shame sneaks in. You notice other people looking energised and ready for the new year, and suddenly you start measuring yourself against them. You might worry you’re behind or that you’re missing a chance to “fix” things. That worry is there for a reason: when we’re exhausted, our brains are more likely to focus on what we’re lacking rather than what we have. The more you compare, the worse the shame feels, and that shame just makes you compare even more. It becomes a loop that feeds on itself, making it difficult to step back and breathe.

    Rest Is Not Avoidance

    Here’s the part I want you to hear:
    When stress has gone on for a long time, rest becomes necessary rather than optional. When your body and mind have been overextended, restoring what’s been depleted involves reducing demands. You’re not doing something wrong by needing a slower start to the year. You’re responding to what your system is able to manage right now.

    Giving Yourself Permission to Step Back

    So if January feels like too much, you’re allowed to step back. You don’t need to set resolutions, redesign your habits, join challenges, or reinvent yourself right now. You don’t have to pretend you’re ready for a big push when you’re still trying to come back to baseline. Instead, you can give yourself small ways to ease into the month: take a longer lunch break, go for a short walk, or spend ten minutes journaling without any goal in mind. Let yourself say no to social events or extra commitments that feel draining. Listening to music that soothes you, savouring a cup of tea, or working on a jigsaw puzzle can be enough to ease the load on your system and support recovery.

    What January Can Be Instead

    January can be something else entirely. It can be a month where you give yourself permission to move at a gentler pace. A month where you check in with what you need instead of what you “should” be doing. A month where you focus on small, grounding things that help you feel a little steadier, rather than forcing change you don’t have the energy for.

    When Support Might Help

    If the exhaustion has been going on for a while and it’s affecting your day-to-day life, that’s usually a good moment to reach out for support. You don’t need to carry this on your own; reaching out is part of taking care of yourself.

    January doesn’t need to be a sprint. It doesn’t need to be a transformation. It can simply be a quieter beginning while you find your footing again.

  • Why Am I So Tired All the Time? It Might Not Be Just Burnout

    Feeling tired all the time isn’t always about sleep. You might be getting eight hours of sleep, taking magnesium, cancelling plans like it’s a sport, and still dragging yourself through the day.

    People assume tiredness means you need more rest. And sure, sometimes that’s true. But if you’ve already slowed down, said no to things, kept your evenings free, and you still feel like you’ve been hit by a truck… something else might be going on.

    Some kinds of tired come from the inside. The effort of always holding it together. Smiling when you don’t feel like it. Managing how other people feel so things don’t blow up. Shrinking parts of yourself to keep the peace. Living in a body that never quite gets to let go.

    That kind of fatigue doesn’t show up in your bloodwork. It builds up quietly… until even small things feel like too much.

    And if that’s where you are, exhausted for reasons you can’t quite name, you’re not imagining it. There’s more to it. And it matters.

    You’ve Tried Sleeping, Supplements, and Slowing Down. Still Tired.

    You’ve done the things.

    You’re sleeping better. You’ve taken breaks. You bought the overpriced supplements. You’ve said no to plans, cleared your evenings, and even tried meditation (though it mostly made you think about snacks). And still, you’re tired.

    Not just a bit sluggish. More like walking through molasses in your own life. Smiling, nodding, functioning, everything feels heavier than it should.

    That kind of exhaustion doesn’t always come with a neat explanation. It doesn’t mean something’s wrong with your body or physical health, but perhaps you’re carrying more than it’s letting on.

    The next part of this post gets into the hidden layers of emotional fatigue, especially the ones people don’t usually talk about.

    Emotional Exhaustion Has Layers. Here Are Some You Might Not See

    There’s a difference between being tired and being emptied out. If you’ve ever felt worn thin for no clear reason, there’s probably more at play than just stress or poor sleep.

    Emotional exhaustion doesn’t come from one thing. It’s made up of a hundred small efforts your body makes to keep you safe, most of them so familiar you barely notice them anymore.

    Here are a few patterns I see often, especially in therapy rooms.

    The Fawn Response

    You keep the peace. You soften your tone. You overthink all your messages before you send them out. You feel responsible for how other people feel, even when you know you’re not.
    That constant scanning: “Did I upset them? Should I have phrased that differently? Are they okay?” It keeps your body on alert, even when nothing’s happening.
    It looks like being kind, but it feels like walking on eggshells in your own skin.

    Masking

    Maybe you’re neurodivergent. Or maybe you’ve just learnt it’s safer to keep certain parts of yourself hidden.
    You become who people need you to be. You mirror, manage, and perform. Even around people you like.
    When you open up about this, people might accuse you of faking it. They don’t understand that for you, it’s about survival. And that doing it every day is exhausting.

    Emotional Shutdown

    You don’t cry. You don’t get angry. You don’t feel much at all.
    Deep down, you might care very deeply, but your body has learnt it’s safer to freeze than feel.
    You function, but there’s a kind of dullness underneath. And that frozen state still burns energy. It just hides it well.

    Overwhelm That Never Got Processed

    You’ve had hard things happen, and you kept going. You were “fine.”
    But your body never got the chance to come down. You’re still carrying the tension, the shock, and the tears that never had anywhere to go.

    People might say you’re overreacting, but you don’t feel in control of it. Your nervous system is still mid-story. It didn’t get to finish what it started.

    3 Signs You’re Experiencing Emotional Fatigue

    You feel drained after socialising, even with people you love
    You enjoy their company, and you want to be there. But by the end, you feel like you’ve run a marathon with a polite face on.

    You wake up tired, even after a full night’s sleep
    Sleep isn’t touching it. The tiredness feels baked in, like your body never really powers down.

    You keep thinking, “What’s wrong with me?”
    You’ve ruled out the basics. You’ve tried the practical stuff. And you still feel off, but you can’t explain it.

    Instead of believing the voice in your head that says you’re just being lazy or too sensitive, think: It’s your system trying to cope with more than it’s built to hold alone.

    What Helps (And What Doesn’t)

    ❌ What usually doesn’t help:

    – Forcing productivity when your system is already flooded
    – Treating emotional fatigue like a sleep problem
    – Blaming yourself for not being able to “bounce back”
    – Making rest another thing to feel bad about

    You’ve probably tried to fix it by pushing through or by trying harder to relax. Neither one really works when your nervous system’s still running in survival mode.

    ✅ What sometimes helps:

    – Giving yourself space to not be useful all the time
    – Feeling safe with someone who isn’t trying to fix you
    – Naming what you’re actually feeling, instead of skipping past it
    – Therapy that focuses on nervous system safety, not just “coping tools”

    Sometimes healing starts with letting your body know it’s allowed to slow down. So forget trying to find the “perfect routine”; your body didn’t sign up for a marathon, it just wants a decent nap and maybe a snack.

    Mini Practice

    When you feel overwhelmed or weirdly tired, try asking yourself:
    “What am I carrying right now that no one can see?”

    You don’t have to answer it perfectly. Just notice what comes up.

    What We Explore in Therapy (If You’re Curious)

    If you think that therapy for this kind of tiredness is giving you tips and productivity hacks, you’re wrong, and you probably just signed up for a very expensive pep talk. Therapy in this case should be about having a space where your body doesn’t have to perform. Where you don’t have to keep explaining yourself.

    Here are some of the things we might explore together:

    – Why your body still feels on edge, even when nothing’s “wrong”
    – What it’s like to stop performing and start noticing what you feel
    – How to rest in a way that feels nourishing, not numb
    – What boundaries can look like when they’re based on care, not fear
    – How to make space for anger, grief, or need without shame

    You don’t need to hit a breaking point to start. If you’re tired of being tired, that’s enough.

    Final Thought: You Don’t Have to Earn Rest

    Some tiredness doesn’t go away with sleep. It starts to lift when your system feels safe. When you stop holding your breath. When someone finally sees what you’ve been carrying and allows you to put it down for a moment.

    You don’t have to explain why you’re tired. You don’t have to prove it. And you definitely don’t have to wait until things get worse to start giving yourself a break.

    If you don’t know where to begin, that’s okay. You’re allowed to begin exactly where you are.