After Burnout

I haven't published anything on this blog for three years. During this time, many things happened—many, in fact—but one of the most important—and also one of the hardest to accept—was that I went through burnout. I lost motivation, energy, and for a long time, even the desire to keep doing what I once loved, both inside and outside work.

I had to stop. Not for superficial rest, but out of a deep need to pause and reconnect with myself. I started psychological therapy. I quit my job and focused on myself. I lived off my savings so I could stop completely for a couple of months, hopefully half a year. And I did it without guilt. I learned that rest is not just about doing nothing, but about active rest: a space to heal, to listen to what my body and mind really need. I felt broken, and it was a necessary time to learn to respect my own pace, to let go of the self-demand that weighed me down, and to distinguish what I truly wanted to do from what I felt I had to do due to external or internal pressure.

In the last year and a half, I have been returning to the software industry, but from a different place. With more calm, more awareness, and above all, more care for myself. I have learned not to rush, not to always be in “performance” mode. I have also reinforced the lesson of how harmful constant comparison with others can be. Every path is unique, and every recovery process is too.

Little by little, I have returned to some of the things that made me happy: writing, coding, learning, sharing experiences. But this time with a fundamental difference: now I do it because I want to, because I enjoy it, not because I think I have to do it to keep growing professionally or to meet others' expectations.

Part of this return to normality includes resuming this blog. I don't have a set plan or a strict publishing schedule. I just want to write when I feel I have something to share, without pressure or expectations. I want this space to be a place where I can express myself freely, without fear of not meeting standards or metrics.

Another part has been going back to events like Socracan 2025, where I was able to reconnect with colleagues and friends from the community. It was a moment of joy, of connection, and of reaffirming that, despite the difficulties, I'm still here, learning and growing. It was also a wonderful opportunity to talk with others about burnout, about how it affects our mental and professional health, and about the importance of taking care of ourselves in an environment that often prioritizes performance over well-being.

In those conversations, we also talked about how, sometimes, burnout doesn't come from an overwhelming workload, but from a silent impatience, from a life that revolves only around work. When the rest of your existence disappears and only productivity remains, any small obstacle becomes a mountain. You feel empty, but you don't know why. Your day revolves around getting things done, but you no longer remember what excited you.

One of the stories that struck me most was from someone who decided to leave their software job and spend four months trimming hedges and cleaning pools. They said it was the best “vacation” of their life. That change of pace, environment, and purpose brought back the pleasure of simple things. The curious thing is, after that, they returned to programming and have been working in the software industry for years.

This led to the idea of how absurd it is to try to rest from a mental and sedentary job with activities that are just as mental and sedentary. What really helps is moving your body, feeling it, using it. Walking, sweating, breathing with intention. Real rest doesn't look like work: it's the opposite. Also, your body needs to move, not just sit and think. It needs physical activity, not just mental. And that's something we often forget.

We also talked about how heavy self-demand can be. That “I have to be better now” or “I should be more productive” that doesn't let you breathe. And the constant comparison, the one that turns every achievement of others into a source of frustration. We forget that everyone has their own pace, their own story, their own baggage. Measuring ourselves by someone else's standards only takes us further from our own path.

In the midst of all that, we overlook something as simple as celebrating our achievements. Sometimes it's hard to recognize what we've accomplished because we're too busy chasing the next thing. But stopping, looking back, and saying “I did this” is also a way to heal.

Recognizing the symptoms of burnout was also part of the conversation. From that feeling of not wanting to get up even if you like your job, to Sunday afternoons that drain your energy because you know you have to go back to work the next day. Also, the growing difficulty to concentrate, to stay focused, to enjoy. These are subtle signs at first, but they end up silencing you inside.

So, what helps? Physically separating work from the rest of your life. Creating boundaries, even if they're symbolic. Allowing work to be just that, work. Reconnecting with what you really want, not what you think you should want. Listening to yourself honestly, creating the time and space for your mind to quiet down so you can hear yourself behind the noise. Exercising not as an obligation, but as medicine. You ignore how beneficial it is to keep your body moving. And above all, reminding yourself that you don't have to be at 100% all the time. Sometimes, just being is enough.

Today, after three years without writing, I'm back to this blog. Not because I feel I have to, but because I want to. Because I've learned that writing is a way to take care of myself, to express what I feel, and to connect with others. And that's what I want to share today: the importance of doing things out of desire, not obligation.

If you are also on pause, or in the process of coming back, or even considering stopping, I send you a hug. Sometimes stopping is the bravest—and most honest—way to move forward. And it's okay not to be okay all the time. Life, with its ups and downs, invites us to learn to take care of ourselves and to find our own rhythm, without hurry and without guilt.

Conclusions

• Stopping is not giving up; it's a way to take care of yourself.
• Recovery is not linear, and that's okay.
• Burnout doesn't always come from too much work; sometimes it comes from having only work in your life.
• Resting is not doing nothing; it's doing something different that nourishes you.
• If your job is mental and sedentary, your rest should be physical and restorative.
• Constant comparison can be toxic; every path is unique.
• Self-demand and constant comparison can break you inside.
• Celebrate your achievements, even the small ones: moving forward is also a success.
• Recognizing the symptoms in time can help you avoid collapse.
• Taking care of yourself is more important than performing.