Let’s talk about burnout. No, not the fun kind where you imagine peeling off in a classic Mustang to the sound of Kings of Leon and screeching tires, but the kind that leaves you stuck in bed for days while your body laughs in your face. “Oh, you thought you could outsmart me? Adorable.”
Burnout is brutal for anyone, but when you’re living with a chronic illness, it’s like burnout with a side order of existential dread. I know this all too well because years ago, I pushed myself so hard that I ended up causing more damage than I ever wanted to admit. Looking back, I see it for what it was—a desperate attempt to cling to normalcy while my body was busy drafting an entirely different plan.
The ‘Just Push Through It’ Myth
Let me set the scene. You’re in constant pain, every movement feels like wading through molasses, and yet the world still expects you to show up, smile, and perform at 100%. And when you’ve been told your illness is "all in your head," the pressure to prove everyone wrong is overwhelming. You dig deeper, push harder, until your body decides to teach you a lesson in physics:
You cannot run on fumes forever.
The mentality of "I just need to push through" takes root. You think, If I just try harder, I’ll get better. Maybe I can beat this thing with enough willpower.
Spoiler alert: You can’t. Chronic illnesses are not dragons waiting for a hero’s sword. They’re more like unwelcome housemates who ignore eviction notices. And believe me, I tried everything short of hiring an exorcist.
But that mindset doesn’t come from nowhere. We live in a society that treats rest like a sin and productivity as the ultimate virtue. If you’re not busy, you’re lazy. If you rest, you’re giving up. And when your condition is invisible, you’re pressured to prove your worth by pushing your body to its absolute limit.
The Body Keeps the Score—And It Always Wins
Here’s the cold, hard truth: your body doesn’t care about deadlines, meetings, or what your manager thinks. It has its own agenda. And when you push it too far, it will push back. Hard.
For me, that pushback came in the form of worsening symptoms and, ultimately, needing a wheelchair. I fought it every step of the way. I convinced myself that rest was for the weak, that giving in to my symptoms meant I was failing. But the more I ignored my limits, the more my body forced me to confront them.
Burnout doesn’t just hit your body—it takes your mind and spirit down with it. The exhaustion becomes all-consuming. You can’t think clearly. You feel angry, defeated, disconnected from everything you used to enjoy. And the worst part? You start wondering if the people who doubted your illness were right all along.
Internalized Ableism: The Invisible Burden
Let’s unpack that insidious little voice in your head—the one that whispers, You’re just being lazy. Other people have it worse. If you tried harder, you wouldn’t need help.
That voice is internalized ableism, the sneaky gremlin that makes you feel guilty for resting and ashamed for needing accommodations. It tells you that if you can’t keep up, you’re the problem—not the system that refuses to accommodate you.
This isn’t just a personal struggle; it’s a systemic issue. We’re conditioned to value productivity over well-being, to see disability as something to "overcome" rather than something to support. And that mindset is harming countless people with chronic conditions.
Reframing Rest and Support
It took me years to understand that rest isn’t a weakness—it’s a survival tool. My wheelchair isn’t a symbol of defeat; it’s a tool that allows me to conserve energy and navigate the world without worsening my symptoms. Accepting that fact wasn’t easy, but it was necessary for my health and happiness.
For anyone in a similar situation, I want you to hear this loud and clear: You do not have to prove your worth through suffering. You are enough exactly as you are, and your health should always come before anyone else’s expectations.
Pacing, setting boundaries, and asking for help are acts of strength, not weakness. And if you need mobility aids, there’s no shame in that—only empowerment.
The Road to Recovery: Healing from Burnout
Recovering from burnout isn’t as simple as taking a weekend off. It requires deep, intentional changes to your mindset and routine:
Listen to Your BodyStop pushing through pain. Rest when your body needs it, and stop before you reach breaking point.
Embrace PacingBreak tasks into manageable chunks and alternate activity with rest. This isn’t doing less—it’s doing what’s sustainable.
Set BoundariesLearn to say "no" without guilt. Boundaries protect your energy and well-being.
Prioritize Quality RestChronic illness messes with sleep, so create a rest routine that actually recharges you.
Find Joy and PurposeEven small joys, like listening to music or spending time with loved ones, can help rebuild emotional resilience.
Seek SupportYou don’t have to do this alone. Connect with support networks, whether in person or online.
Breaking the Cycle Through Advocacy
Now, I advocate for myself and others. Through Unremarkable Me, I want to challenge the harmful narratives that trap people in cycles of burnout and self-blame. No one should have to destroy their body to prove their illness is real.
Advocacy isn’t just about awareness—it’s about creating a world where people with chronic illnesses are believed, supported, and accommodated. It’s about changing the systems that force us to choose between health and survival. And it’s about celebrating the resilience of those navigating these challenges every day.
Hope, Humor, and Humanity
Burnout took a lot from me, but it also taught me invaluable lessons. I learned to listen to my body, to prioritize rest, and to stop measuring my worth by productivity. If you’re struggling, know that you’re not alone. There’s hope in learning to care for yourself, humor in the absurdity of our bodies' quirks, and humanity in sharing our stories.
So, take a deep breath, give yourself permission to rest, and remember: Be kind to yourself
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