šŸ”„ Burnout Doesn’t Always Look Like Burnout

3 minutes

Back when I was waitressing—before I became a physiotherapist—life felt like a nonstop grind.

Stress was always there, like a shadow I couldn’t shake.

My shifts often stretched past 12 hours, and most days I barely managed to sneak in a quick lunch around 4 or 5 p.m. before diving back into the chaos.

I’ve always been the type who is probably at higher risk of burnout. Looking back, I’m honestly not sure whether I narrowly avoided it or was already halfway there.

I only had one gear back then: full speed ahead.

I wanted to do everything at once, perfectly, and preferably yesterday.

(Thankfully, I’ve changed my tune since then. That’s not exactly a sustainable life strategy.)

I was working myself into the ground while my mind never seemed to switch off.

And because I thought the solution was always “more,” I often took on work that wasn’t even mine to carry.

Back then, I didn’t wish other people would help more.

I wished I could clone myself.

That kind of thinking is dangerous.

Because if your answer to overwhelm is always “I need to do more,” eventually you run out of road.

I remember coming home after those long days—sometimes at 9 or 10 p.m.—and going for a run just to burn off the tension.

I thought I was recovering.

In reality, I was often just adding more stimulation to an already overstimulated system.

Gaming became another escape. Not because gaming itself is bad, but because distraction felt easier than slowing down.

After months of ignoring the warning signs, my body eventually forced me to pay attention.

It wasn’t a pleasant lesson, but it was an important one.

Today, movement still plays a huge role in my life.

The difference is that I no longer use it to outrun stress.

I use it to create space.

One reason that became easier is my dog. He doesn’t care how busy I am, how many emails I still have to answer, or how productive my day was.

He wants his walk.

Every day.

And because of him, I step outside every day too.

Not for performance.

Not for productivity.

Not to optimize anything.

Just to walk.

Looking back, that’s probably the lesson I wish I had learned sooner.

When we’re stressed, our instinct is often to add another solution, another task, another thing we should be doing.

Sometimes the better answer is the opposite.

Sometimes recovery isn’t something you have to earn.

Sometimes it’s just giving yourself permission to slow down long enough to hear what your body has been trying to tell you all along.


What if the solution isn’t doing more—
but creating a little space?

Many of us respond to stress the same way:

We speed up.

We work harder.

We try to become more efficient.

We look for another gear.

Sometimes that’s useful.

Sometimes it’s exactly what keeps us stuck.

šŸŽÆ Try This:

This week, take a 10-minute walk without a goal.

No podcast.

No audiobook.

No phone call.

No step target.

Just walk.

Then pay attention:

  • What thoughts keep showing up?
  • How uncomfortable is it to do “nothing productive”?
  • Do you feel the urge to speed up, distract yourself, or turn the walk into a workout?

You don’t need to change anything.

Just notice.

🧠 Final Thought:

Many people don’t struggle because they’re lazy. They struggle because they only know one solution:
Push harder.
Sometimes recovery starts when you stop looking for another gear.


Keep it simple, stay curious, and keep learning—you’ve got this.

Take care,

Carina 🦊


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