Burnout. It’s a word we toss around casually — “I’m so burned out” — but burnout is more than feeling tired or stressed. It’s a state of physical, emotional, and mental exhaustion that happens when our inner resources are being depleted faster than they can be replenished. And it’s more common, and more serious, than many realize.

If you’re in midlife and feeling the weight of never‑ending demands with work, parents, kids and community, you’re not alone. A 2023 Gallup survey found that 70% of employees have experienced burnout, and 44% feel that way “often” or “always.” In the pandemic’s wake, those numbers keep climbing.

Why this matters in midlife

Midlife is sometimes framed as a crisis, but more and more, we’re recognizing it can also be a powerful threshold. Decades of achieving, providing, and caregiving pile up until old patterns no longer fit and new ways of being call to us. Likewise, burnout can feel like a breakdown, but it can also be a breakthrough, an invitation to come home to yourself.

What if your sense of purpose/meaning/satisfaction didn’t depend on how much you do, but on how fully you live?

I know burnout because I’ve been there—and I didn’t see it coming.

My story

I know burnout because I’ve been there—and I didn’t see it coming. For years I kept going. I took pride in being responsible, high‑performing, dependable. I wore my resilience like a badge, staying late, saying yes, pushing through. With a team under constant deadline pressure, an aging parent, and children still at home, I minimized my own needs to meet everyone else’s.

Slowly, cracks appeared: overwhelm, detachment, difficulty concentrating, a heavy tiredness no amount of sleep could fix. I woke with dread, ignored headaches and chronic tension, and felt my joy, curiosity, and compassion slipping away. Eventually, my body pulled the emergency brake. I couldn’t function, and I went on medical leave for several months.

What burnout really is

Burnout isn’t simply busy-ness; it’s chronic, unrelenting stress that pushes our nervous system past its capacity to recover. Over time, this wears down our ability to regulate emotions, think clearly, and connect meaningfully with others. It impacts the brain’s prefrontal cortex (our center for decision-making and executive function), while keeping the amygdala (our alarm system) on high alert. Cortisol stays elevated; the body never returns to balance. We live in constant fight‑or‑flight even when nothing is immediately threatening us.

We override our needs, push down our feelings, and tell ourselves to just try harder, which only deepens the problem.

Burnout also distorts identity. We start to believe our worth is tied to output, responsiveness, usefulness. We override our needs, push down our feelings, and tell ourselves to just try harder, which only deepens the problem.

Understanding levels of burnout

Author and leadership researcher Nick Petrie outlines three progressive levels of burnout:

• Level One – Overextended: Wired and tired. Working too hard but still functioning. Poor sleep, missed details, and rising caffeine or sugar intake are early clues.
• Level Two – Depleted: Energy is drained and emotional distance sets in. You lose your spark, become reactive or cynical, and even favourite work or hobbies feel like chores.
• Level Three – Chronically Burned Out: Numb, feeling trapped and increasingly hopeless; body and mind begin to shut down. This is existential burnout, where many high performers quietly fall apart.

Petrie’s research underscores that deeper stages require deeper solutions—time‑management hacks won’t mend a nervous system in distress. We often try to fix Level Three burnout with Level One solutions (try to sleep more, take a day off, download a meditation app). Helpful for prevention, yes, but when someone is deeply depleted, what’s needed is real intervention: deep rest, psychological safety, self-reflection, and often professional support.
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The way through

Recovery is possible and can even be transformational. For me, healing started when I stopped muscling through and began to listen to my body and emotions. I relearned how to rest, how to be still, and how to say no (to others, and to my inner critic). Therapy, journaling, trusted friends, and gentle movement helped. Most of all, I stopped blaming myself.

I began to feel like myself again, not because I did more, but because I finally allowed myself to do less. That breathing space allowed deep reflection and gave me courage to reshape my work around my values and take action so that I could live my life with greater ease.

Burnout isn’t a personal failure; it’s a nervous system under siege. If there’s one thing I learned, it’s this: burnout doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means something needs to change, and you don’t have to wait for collapse to begin. Start by listening, honouring your needs, and reclaiming rest—not as indulgence, but as renewable fuel that lets you burn bright for the long haul.

Looking for your next step? Rosemary and colleague Catherine Ducharme have co‑created Survive to Thrive, a practical, research‑informed coaching program that helps leaders prevent burnout and lead with energy, resilience, and clarity. Learn more about the program here, and take a free Burnout Self Assessment. You can also reach out to Rosemary directly.