If you're reading this, there's a good chance you already know something's wrong.
You might not be calling it burnout yet. You might be telling yourself it's just a busy period, or that everyone feels like this, or that you'll rest when things calm down.
But if you're Googling "signs of burnout" at 11pm on a Tuesday, some part of you is trying to get your attention.
Here's what I've learned, both from my own experience and from the women I work with: you probably won't stop until your body forces you to.
Because it genuinely feels impossible to stop. There's always a project that needs finishing, a person who needs you, a deadline that can't move, a parent who needs care, a child who needs picking up, a team who's counting on you.
It's never a good time to fall apart.
Until it's not a choice anymore.
When I hit the wall
I woke up one morning and couldn't read my emails.
I physically couldn't make sense of the words on the screen.
Then the panic attacks started. One after another. I couldn't stop them. I couldn't think my way out. I couldn't push through.
My body had been sending me signals for months — probably longer. I'd ignored every single one of them because stopping felt impossible.
Looking back, the signs were everywhere. I just didn't have permission to see them as signs.
The signs that show up before the collapse
Burnout doesn't arrive overnight. It builds slowly, quietly, in layers you learn to live with.
These are the signs I see most often in the women I work with — smart, capable, high-functioning women who are still showing up, still performing, still convincing everyone (including themselves) that they're fine.
Physical signs
Exhausted but wired. Too tired to function, but can't switch off or sleep properly.
Frequent illness. Colds, infections, things that won't shift.
Tension you can't release. Jaw, shoulders, chest, gut.
Changes in appetite. Eating too much, too little, or not tasting anything.
Physical symptoms with no clear cause. Headaches, dizziness, heart racing.
Emotional signs
Numb or flat. Not sad exactly, just… nothing.
Crying at odd moments. In the car, in the shower, at something small.
Irritability that surprises you. Snapping at people you love.
Resentment. Towards your work, your responsibilities, sometimes even the people you care about.
Dread. Sunday night dread that now starts on Friday.
Cognitive signs
Brain fog. Forgetting things you'd normally remember easily.
Difficulty making decisions. Even small ones feel overwhelming.
Can't concentrate. Reading the same sentence three times.
Catastrophising. Everything feels urgent and serious.
Loss of perspective. Can't tell what actually matters anymore.
Behavioural signs
Withdrawing. Cancelling plans, avoiding people, going quiet.
Working longer but achieving less. The harder you push, the less gets done.
Relying on something to get through. Wine, caffeine, sugar, scrolling, shopping.
Letting things slide. The self-care habits, the hobbies, the things that used to matter.
Checking out. Present in body but not really there.
Relational signs
Less patience. With your kids, your partner, your team.
Feeling invisible. Like no one sees how much you're carrying.
Guilt. About not being enough for anyone.
Isolation. Even when you're surrounded by people.
Fantasising about leaving. Your job, your life, everything.
The part no one tells you
Most people assume that if you're burnt out, you won't be able to function.
That's not how it works for high-achieving, responsible women.
You can be burnt out and still showing up. Still delivering. Still looking fine on the outside.
That's actually part of the problem.
You keep going because you can keep going. Until suddenly, you can't.
The version of burnout that looks like "lying on the sofa unable to move" comes later. Before that, there's months (sometimes years) of running on empty while pretending you're not.
If you're recognising yourself in this
You might be hoping I'm about to give you a list of things to do.
Ten steps to prevent burnout. A morning routine. A boundary-setting script.
I'm not going to do that.
Because if you're already this far in, what you need isn't another task. It's permission to stop pretending you're fine.
Here's what actually helps:
Name it. Out loud. To someone. "I think I'm heading for burnout" or "I'm not okay" or "I can't keep doing this."
Don't wait for permission. You're waiting for things to calm down, for a better time, for someone to tell you it's okay to slow down. That moment won't come. You have to create it.
Start with the smallest possible thing. Not a complete life overhaul. Just one thing that might give you a bit of breathing room. Cancelling one commitment. Asking for one piece of help. Going to bed earlier for three nights.
Talk to your GP. If you're at the point where your body is saying no (panic attacks, can't function, can't sleep), this is a medical situation. You might need time off. You might need support. You definitely need someone to take it seriously.
Get support that actually fits your life. Burnout doesn't happen because you're not resilient enough. It happens when the load you're carrying is unsustainable. That means both the work and the internal pressure to cope with it need to change.
A question worth sitting with
What would have to happen for you to stop before your body makes you?
Not in six months when things are quieter. Now.
I'm not asking this to guilt you or to push you into action. I'm asking because most of us won't answer it honestly until we're already on the floor.
And by then, the choice has been made for us.
If you need support
I work with women who are capable, thoughtful, and quietly coming apart at the seams.
Women who know something has to change but don't know how to make that change without everything else falling apart.
You don't need someone to tell you to rest more or set better boundaries. You need someone who understands why that's not as simple as it sounds.
If you'd like to talk, you can read about my RESTORE programme or get in touch directly. There's no pressure. Just a conversation.
But please don't wait until you can't read your emails.
Your body will only ask so many times before it decides for you.