by Tishya Sudhahar
Introduction: “Just Push Through”
I used to think burnout was just feeling tired. Like the kind of tired you get during exam week or when you stay up too late finishing a project. I thought if I could just sleep it off, or push through it, everything would be fine. But in my third year of high school, I realized what I was feeling wasn’t just normal tiredness. It was deeper. It was like I had stopped caring—but not in a dramatic way. More in a dull, quiet way. Like my brain was going through the motions, but the rest of me had checked out. I was getting good grades. I was doing all the right things. But I felt empty while doing them. One morning in November, I sat at my desk trying to write a paper. I had the outline ready. I’d done the reading. But my fingers wouldn’t move. I just stared at the screen. Not scrolling, not zoning out—just sitting there, like my body was frozen and my mind had disappeared. And the weird part? No one around me noticed anything was wrong. I was still doing well in school. Still handing things in. Still laughing with friends. But inside, I felt like I was unraveling.
The Crash: Quiet, Invisible Burnout
What I experienced wasn’t dramatic. There was no big breakdown. No missing assignments. Just a slow, steady loss of energy for the things I used to enjoy. Everything started to feel like a chore—even the stuff I normally loved, like reading for fun or doodling in my notebook. [Note for readers: If you’re experiencing this, speak to a trusted adult or seek help from a medical professional. Anhedonia may be a sign of depression or other health conditions.] I wasn’t sad, exactly. I just couldn’t feel much of anything. Every day started to feel like I was dragging a heavier version of myself around. At first, I blamed myself. Maybe I was just lazy. Maybe I wasn’t motivated enough. But no matter how hard I tried to force myself to feel excited, I couldn’t fake it anymore. That’s when I learned about burnout.
What Burnout Actually Is
According to the World Health Organization (2019), burnout is a syndrome caused by chronic stress that hasn’t been successfully managed. It leads to exhaustion, mental distance, and feeling like you’re not accomplishing anything—no matter how much you’re doing (World Health Organization, 2019). Even though burnout is usually described in jobs or work settings, it’s exactly what I was going through at school. Every task felt like it took triple the energy. Every day felt the same: wake up, try to care, pretend everything’s fine, repeat. And all the stuff I used to enjoy? It just didn’t light me up anymore. I wasn’t lazy. I wasn’t broken. I was burned out.
Trying to Feel Like Me Again
The things that helped weren’t big. They weren’t productivity tips or motivational videos. Honestly, the stuff that helped didn’t feel like “solutions” at all. One night, my dad asked me if I wanted to go on a walk. I almost said no—I had studying to do—but something in me said yes. We ended up walking around the neighborhood, laughing at weird lawn decorations and talking about nonsense. And for the first time in weeks, I felt a little lighter. Another time, I picked up my sketchbook and just started drawing random faces. Not to make anything good. Just to do something that didn’t have a grade attached. I even made a playlist I called “Songs That Make Me Feel Like a Human.” No theme. Just music that made me feel like me. These little things didn’t magically make the burnout go away. But they gave me space to breathe. To exist outside of school. To feel like a person, not a checklist.
Burnout Isn’t Always Obvious
The scariest thing about burnout? Sometimes it hides really well. You can be getting straight A’s. You can be showing up to class. You can be smiling in group chats. And still be completely burned out on the inside. Burnout doesn’t always look like crashing. Sometimes it looks like numbing out. So if you're reading this and thinking, “That kind of feels like me,” you’re not alone. And no, I’m not here to give advice or say I fixed everything. I didn’t. But what helped me was stepping back from constantly trying to “achieve” and remembering what it felt like to enjoy something just because I wanted to—not because it would look good on a report card.
Conclusion: I Wasn’t Lazy. I Was Just Exhausted.
Burnout didn’t make me fall behind. It didn’t wreck my grades. But it did make me feel like I was slowly disappearing inside a routine that no longer made sense. It wasn’t about being weak. It was about being human. What helped me wasn’t pushing harder. It was letting myself be soft. Letting myself be creative. Letting myself say, “This is enough for now.” I’m still figuring it out. Some days are better than others. But now I know that if I start to feel that emotional flatness again, that slow fog creeping in, I need more than just sleep or willpower—I need space to feel human again.
Citations:
World Health Organization. (2019). Burn-out an "occupational phenomenon": International Classification of Diseases. Retrieved from https://www.who.int/mental_health/evidence/burn-out/en/
