When the Flame Flickers

Sometimes, in my sessions, I listen for what isn't being said. The way a client exhales before they speak. The pause when I ask how they’re doing. The words they use—“fine,” “just tired,” “it’s been a lot lately.”

These are often the first murmurs of burnout. And as a therapist, I don’t just recognize the signs in others—I’ve come to recognize them in myself, too.

Burnout doesn’t always roar in dramatically. More often, it tiptoes in, disguised as productivity, masked by perfectionism, hidden beneath the weight of obligation. It’s a slow erosion of energy, purpose, and connection.

Let me walk you through how I’ve come to understand the signs—not just clinically, but intimately.

Emotional exhaustion often feels like a heavy blanket over the soul. Everything becomes an effort. Clients describe it as waking up already tired, or needing to brace themselves for basic tasks. I’ve felt it too—when holding space for others starts to feel like I'm pouring from an empty cup. It’s more than fatigue. It’s a depletion of the self.

In these moments, I gently invite people to consider: What part of you is asking to rest right now?

Burnout can also create a deep sense of detachment. People say, “I just don’t care anymore,” or “I feel like I’m on autopilot.” And I’ve said it in my own head, too. Joy becomes muted. Smiles no longer reach the eyes. We go through the motions, but not with the fullness of our presence. It’s not that the joy is gone—it’s that we’re too depleted to access it.

Irritability often sneaks in without us noticing. Clients say, “I’m snapping at everyone and I don’t know why.” It’s easy to misread this as a character flaw or impatience, but often, it’s burnout’s way of telling us that our boundaries have been crossed too many times. When our nervous system is overloaded, even small requests can feel like demands. I sometimes ask, “If your anger had a voice, what would it say it needs?” The answers are often simple but profound—rest, space, help.

Burnout also brings cynicism and self-doubt. People begin to question the value of what they’re doing. They feel ineffective, even when they’re still showing up and giving so much. They say things like, “What’s the point?” or “I’m not good at this anymore.” These thoughts aren’t truths. They’re symptoms. I remind them (and myself): burnout is not a reflection of your worth. It’s a signal that something inside you is asking for care.

Then there’s the quiet withdrawing—the disconnection that protects, but also isolates. When everything feels like too much, we retreat. We cancel plans, ignore messages, stop reaching out. At first, the silence feels like relief. But over time, loneliness replaces it. I never rush clients through this. I simply ask, Can we find one safe connection to anchor you?Sometimes it’s a person. Sometimes, a practice. Sometimes, just a space where they feel like they can exhale.

Burnout is not weakness. It is not failure. It is not permanent.

It is a message—a quiet, persistent invitation to come back to yourself. To slow down. To soften. To say no. To be held. To let go.

In therapy, and in life, healing often begins when we stop trying to "push through" and instead start asking: What would it look like to be gentle with myself right now?

If you’re feeling the signs, I want you to know: you’re not alone. You don’t need to earn your rest. You don’t need to justify your fatigue. You are worthy of care, just as you are.

And even the smallest act of tending to yourself is a powerful beginning.

Disclaimer:

The content provided on this blog is for informational and educational purposes only and is not intended as a substitute for professional psychological advice, diagnosis, or treatment. The information shared here does not constitute a therapeutic relationship and should not be relied upon as mental health treatment.

Although the author is a licensed mental health professional in the state of Georgia, the content is general in nature and may not be applicable to your individual circumstances. Always seek the advice of a qualified mental health provider or other medical professional with any questions you may have regarding a mental health condition.

If you are experiencing a mental health emergency, call 911 or go to your nearest emergency room. You can also contact the National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline by calling or texting 988 for free and confidential support, available 24/7.