It’s been four months since I left my job at a startup. I say “left”, but it was somewhat involuntary: I had worn myself down so much that I couldn’t continue.
In hindsight, my approach to work looks more like an addiction. The first sign was when, after a long day at an offsite, a colleague asked me about my interests outside of work and I didn’t have a response. A later, more severe sign was when my sister shared that she felt like she was losing me to my job. I responded by making zero behavioral changes. I had a nervous breakdown in a French château during a company offsite. In the last months before I hit my breaking point, I kept catching persistent colds and was constantly sick. I started smoking because doing something that felt mildly self-destructive helped me cope.
For the first month or two of unemployment, I didn’t know how to stop working. I immediately started a new side project and continued as if I was in full-time employment. Once I realized that I wasn’t enjoying it, I instead started planning my next steps. I’d get excited about various startups and business ideas, going so far as talking to VCs and setting up interviews. I quickly realized that it was far too early and had to embarrassingly retreat.
Now, it can still be difficult to give myself space to rest. I had forgotten how to, and I’m still learning. The most exciting part has been rediscovering interests like video games and reading fiction, both of which still feel self-indulgent.
My love for technology, and my desire to build things, are harder to access but still show up occasionally — often after too many cups of coffee. It lasts about as long as the caffeine high. On several occasions I’ve become enthusiastic about a new idea and started building, but the excitement only lasts an hour. Then, I notice the familiar feeling of tension and spiking cortisol. An hour of work is repaid with an entire day of lethargy and low mood.
I’ve heard that burnout occurs when you have ambition without control. That’s certainly true, and I agree that burnout is largely a structural problem — an avoidable workplace injury. But our own choices factor in: perhaps some people are predisposed to workaholism, and so choosing to stay in a demanding but low-agency role is a bit like an alcoholic choosing to work in a distillery.
Burnout isn’t something you can just push through. It’s more like debt: you’re borrowing against a future you’ll eventually have to repay. If you ignore it long enough, then the debt compounds so much that repaying it is its own project. As much as I loved the job that caused my burnout, my biggest regret is not realizing sooner how deep I had gotten.