A Letter To My Burnt-Out Self
- Brainz Magazine
- Jan 13
- 7 min read
Updated: Jan 14
Ryan is a Transformational Coach and Intuitive Guide with a background in Naturopathy, Psychotherapy, and Tarot. He combines diverse modalities and intuitive insights to help individuals navigate change, build meaningful lives, and create deeper connections.
Dear burnout self, I see you. The weight you’re carrying, the heaviness that’s seeped into every corner of your being, feels relentless. I’ve been there, too. That’s why I’m writing. For those moments when joy feels like a distant memory and the simplest tasks feel like wading through quicksand.
When connection feels hollow and pretending to be “okay,” it adds another layer of exhaustion.
Here’s what I want you to hold onto: you’ve been here before. You’ve navigated these stormy waters, and somehow, you’ve always found your way through. You will again. What’s helped me are three anchors: connection, expression, and simplicity. (A holiday on the horizon doesn’t hurt either!)
You can’t muscle through this; your body is waving its white flag. Despair will whisper that this heaviness has no end, but here’s the truth: there’s purpose in the pause. It might not feel like it, but you’re evolving. The person you’re becoming is already on the way, stronger, wiser, and more aligned with what truly matters.
The familiar shadow
It creeps in unannounced, an unwelcome weight pressing down on your chest, dulling every breath. The joy you once felt slips through your fingers. A fleeting moment of laughter might remind you of who you used to be, but the heaviness always returns.
And there it is, that voice: “Something’s wrong with you. Something’s wrong with your life.”
The exhaustion feels suffocating, but I remind myself: I’ve been here before, and I’ll find my way through again.
Key learning
Even when overwhelmed, trust that the cycle will pass. The path forward is always there, even when hidden. Each time you emerge, you do so stronger and wiser.
The signs were always there
It started small a few low days, a growing hollowness. I’d slow down briefly, then push through, convincing myself, “I shouldn’t be tired. I should be more productive.”
I ran on fumes, chasing fulfilment on the other side of the next task. But the spark was gone. Slowly, my body began to protest fatigue, illness, and burnout. Still, I pushed, ignoring the red flags until I couldn’t.
What made it so hard to see was that I loved the work. But loving something doesn’t mean you need to fully sacrifice yourself for it.
Key learning
Listening to your body isn’t a luxury. It’s a necessity. Slowing down when needed is not failure; it’s wisdom. Life unfolds in each moment; choose how you want to live it now, for the present shapes the future.
When pretending to be okay becomes too much
My interactions were strained, my commentary flat, and my patience became paper-thin. I’d nod along with a hollow smile, silently willing conversations to end. I chastised myself for being so disconnected. “What’s wrong with me?” I’d wonder. So, I forced it, scraping the bottom of the well to muster some empathy, trying to show up as my usual self. But the well was dry, and of course, people noticed.
I couldn't hide it even if I wanted to. Some tried to cheer me up, others probed for answers, and a few didn’t know what to say. At first, I felt like I was letting others down, an old fear of mine. The exhaustion stripped away my ability to fake it, and with that came an odd relief. I no longer had the energy to people-please. I could only be honest about where I was.
Flashes of my old self, the vibrant, uplifting me, would appear, but they felt like a distant memory. I reflected on how I’d spent my energy so freely, expecting it would always be there. Of course, I hit a wall.
Key learning
Healing requires giving less and being okay with it. Accepting exhaustion instead of resisting it opens the door to lightness and grace.
Surrender: The bridge back to yourself
I realised I couldn’t force my way out of this. Fighting the tide only trapped me further. This wasn’t failure; it was feedback.
So I stopped. I let go of the “shoulds” and embraced what was. Beneath the heaviness, I found a quiet surrender, a lifeline in the dark. And a sacred invitation to accept myself unconditionally.
In the stillness, hope returned. The pause became a cocoon, not a prison. It gave me the space to transform how I needed to. To soften and return to my centre. I’m not who I was before, but I’m becoming someone who values self-compassion over productivity.
Key learning
Surrender isn’t failure; it’s realignment. Unconditional self-acceptance, especially in discomfort, is the foundation for growth. “No mud, no lotus.” Transformation is never easy, but it’s always worth it.
Being part of a greater whole
Burnout wraps me in isolation, convincing me I’m cut off from the world. But healing reveals a deeper truth: I’m part of something vast and interconnected. The ache of disconnection and monotony isn’t just discomfort; it’s a call to reconnect with life in a new way.
There’s a pull to break free from autopilot, to seek adventure, and to connect with people who align with the person I’m becoming. The changes I crave aren’t just internal but about stepping into life with curiosity and courage. I can’t transform everything overnight, but I can take intentional steps, plan a trip that excites me, join a class I’ve been eyeing, seek guidance, or say yes to something that stretches my comfort zone. Each small act feels like opening the door to joy and spontaneity, which are things my soul has been quietly craving.
I’m reminded that I’m not an island. The myth that I have to face it all alone is both exhausting and false. I’m part of a living, intricate web, a world that thrives on connection. While the weight of living in a capitalist system can feel heavy, I can lean into moments of light: community, shared experiences, and the beauty of small, unexpected joys. These are the remedies for isolation.
Key learning
You’re not meant to carry it all alone. The system we live in can be exhausting, but you can plan ways to engage in environments that deeply nourish you. Allow space for connection, joy, and the unexpected. Healing is as much about embracing the outer world as it is about tending to your inner one.
3 things that help me during burnout (and that keep it at bay)
Connection
Beyond the noise of my current struggles, I’m beginning to hear the symphony of life continuing all around me. I’ve found solace in moments that remind me I’m part of something bigger, moments where I feel held. Lying beneath a tree, watching sunlight dance through the leaves, or simply pausing to ask for grace and guidance reminds me there’s more than the weight I’m carrying right now. These small, quiet acts ground me. They help me feel connected to the steady rhythm of life and rediscover a sense of belonging.
Expression
Expression is an antidote to depression. I’ve started letting the heaviness flow out through journaling, painting, or moving my body in whatever way feels right. It’s not about creating something profound; it’s about shifting energy from being stuck inside me to something tangible and transformative. The power lies in the act itself, not the outcome. Each time I allow myself to express, I feel a little lighter, a little freer.
Simplicity
I’ve stopped trying to fix how I feel and started embracing the beauty of simplicity. My focus is on the small things: resting when my body needs it, savouring a warm cup of tea, or finding comfort in the stillness of the evening sky. Setting boundaries and saying “no” without guilt has become an act of self-preservation. In these moments of just being, I’ve realised that simplicity isn’t just enough. It’s the remedy. Each small joy, each breath of ease, feels like a reminder that less can truly be more.
Right now, less isn’t just more; it’s everything I need.
Getting support when needed
Sometimes burnout is simply a sign that you need rest and a good break. Other times, it’s a signal that something deeper is out of alignment, either within your life or yourself. Self-care isn’t always about bubble baths and naps. Sometimes, it means opening up to new information, making bold decisions, and facing the things you’ve been quietly avoiding. I know firsthand how overwhelming it can be to untangle it all, especially when you’re struggling just to get through the day. However, these moments, when your body and heart are giving you such strong feedback, are precisely when the right support and guidance can make all the difference.
If you’re ready to tune into the whispers of your soul and take transformative steps, let’s work together. Through Tarot and coaching, we’ll uncover the threads of clarity and weave a path that’s uniquely yours, anchored in self-compassion, courage, and a vision for the life you truly desire. Click here to book your session, and let’s turn this pause into your next great beginning.
Read more from Ryan Findlay
Ryan Findlay, Transformational Coach and Intuitive Guide
Ryan is a Transformational Coach and Intuitive Guide, specialising in personal growth, emotional clarity, and practical strategies for navigating change. With a background in Naturopathy, Psychotherapy, and the art of Tarot, he blends diverse modalities with intuitive insights to help individuals overcome challenges and create purposeful lives. Known for his grounded, relatable approach, Ryan serves as both a compass and a steadying hand. His mission: to guide others toward game-changing insights, deeper relationships, and aligned, empowered living.
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