Burnout is a harsh reality for many professionals across industries. My journey with burnout began long before it became a common topic of discussion. Though I often felt isolated, my experience with burnout as a pediatric physician taught me valuable lessons about recovery, resilience, and aligning with one’s true self. 

Suffering Through Residency

My first year of residency as a pediatric physician was intense and relentless.  For the first time in my career, my recommendations carried weight and directly influenced patient care. The demanding schedule of 80-hour workweeks, combined with the emotional toll of treating critically ill infants and children, was overwhelming to say the least.

In the midst of this grueling routine, I experienced my first bout of burnout and depression.  While I didn’t have the language to describe it at the time, I knew this:

• My stomach was in knots every morning as I drove to the hospital at 5 a.m.
• I felt a deep, persistent sadness.
• Most days, I didn’t know how I would make it through.

I tried yoga, spent time in nature, and confided in colleagues, but these only brought me transient moments of relief from the weight of daily life.  When I felt my mental health declining and nothing seemed to provide consistent solace, I decided to transfer to a program closer to my family in hopes that the proximity of loved ones would ease the strain. While the workload remained intense, the support of my family made a meaningful difference in my overall well-being.

As I continued to struggle through the next two years, I began taking mental notes about what truly mattered to me. I realized that 80-hour workweeks, overnight shifts, and the emotional weight of inpatient care weren’t sustainable for me. I valued quality time with loved ones, creative pursuits, and a sense of balance. These insights became a compass for my future decisions, prioritizing roles that allowed for the sense of balance and alignment that I valued. 

A Pivotal Moment of Choosing Differently

Years later, despite my best efforts of keeping repeat episodes of burnout at bay, I was faced with another crossroads. I was working in pediatric urgent care through the height of the COVID-19 pandemic and found that the collective trauma of the pandemic, coupled with rising hostility and violence in healthcare settings, left me burnt out and physically manifesting symptoms of trauma.

This looked like bubbling anxiety at the thought of going into work each day.  Heart racing at the slightest sign of an escalating patient interaction.  Fighting back tears while walking into a shift.  And, experiencing sharp pains through my neck and shoulder that limited my movement.  

The self-care practices that had sustained me for two decades (daily meditation, breathing exercises, affirmations, prayer, journaling, and physical activity) were no longer effective at calming my body’s heightened stress response. I knew I couldn’t simply switch jobs and hope for a different outcome. This time, I needed to choose an entirely new path.  I left clinical medicine, without plans to return.

The uncertainty of this transition felt scary.  I grieved leaving a career that I had devoted so much of my life to.  I initially sought stability through seeking a non-clinical job, but when nothing materialized, I surrendered my tight grasp to expectations of what my next step would look like and opened myself up to other possibilities. While navigating the complex tapestry of emotions that this time held, I continued to pour myself into the coaching business that I had started as a side project years prior.  In doing so, glimmers of joy started to resurface and I decided to take a leap of faith and trust that feeling of joy to guide me to my next steps.  

This journey has been anything but smooth. Initially, I struggled with expectations of what my new career “should” look like. A turning point came when I found myself crying in the bathroom of my co-working office – it was then that I realized my attachment to these external expectations was causing unnecessary suffering.  Once again, I had to let go of the “shoulds” that were no longer serving me.

I began listening to my intuition and prioritizing joy as my guide. I saw it as an experiment to follow my inner voice’s guidance, and in doing so, I have found an incredible sense of freedom that has opened doors to new relationships, opportunities, and experiences.

Burnout Defined

Literature¹ describes burnout as a prolonged response to chronic exposure to stress. While it’s often linked to job-related stress, it can also occur within relationships and caregiving.

Regardless of the inciting stressor, burnout has three defining dimensions:

Overwhelming Exhaustion

Physical, mental, or emotional fatigue that can lead to irritability and difficulty making decisions.

Feelings of Cynicism and Detachment  

Loss of interest in work and feeling detached from its quality and results.

A Sense of Ineffectiveness and Lack of Accomplishment  

Feeling less effective, confident, and self-assured, despite maintaining a consistent quality of work.

Lessons Learned & Practical TakeAways

Two years later, I don’t have it all figured out, but I’m living in greater alignment than ever before. Here are a few insights from my journey:

Listen to Your Body’s Signals

Your body often knows what you need before you do. The stomach knots I experienced during residency and the shoulder pain when I was working in urgent care – these were physical manifestations of the emotional distress I was experiencing.  Before I could even name what I was going through, my body already knew.  

What messages has your body been sending you lately?

Seek Support

Recovery is not a solo journey. Therapists, coaches, friends, family, and spiritual communities have been lifelines for me. Remember that reaching out for help is a sign of strength, not weakness.  

Who’s one person you can reach out to today?