Ask A Therapist - Approaching Burnout

My job is becoming more and more stressful and I feel like I’m approaching burnout. I’m short tempered at home and lacking drive and motivation. I struggling to find the words to communicate how I’m feeling with my partner. What advice would you give to help me tell them how I feel and connect on this issue that’s impacting our relationship?

Dear Anonymous,

I’m really glad you reached out. What you’re describing is something many people end up carrying quietly; the weight of ongoing stress, the slow edging towards burnout, and the awareness that it’s beginning to spill into home life. None of this means you’re doing anything wrong. It means you’ve been coping for longer than your system can sustainably manage.

When burnout approaches, it tends to shrink our emotional bandwidth. We become shorter-tempered, less patient, more easily overwhelmed. And perhaps most confusingly, the motivation and drive we normally rely on start to fade. This is not laziness or a lack of care, rather it’s your nervous system protecting itself. When you’ve been in a prolonged state of strain, your body instinctively redirects energy away from anything that isn’t essential. Even small tasks feel heavier, and trying to 'power through' only deepens the exhaustion.

You mentioned that this is affecting your relationship, and it may be helpful to gently explore that. Is this something you’re noticing in your partner’s responses, or something you’re assuming because you feel different within yourself? Either way, it’s worth naming it directly. You don’t have to wait until you find the perfect words as most people in your partner’s position would rather hear something imperfect and honest than silence.

You might begin with something like “I can feel myself becoming more withdrawn and tired, and I’m worried it’s affecting us. I don’t feel like myself at the moment, and I want you to know what’s going on.” This opens the door to connection rather than leaving both of you in separate interpretations.

It can also help to describe the inner experience rather than trying to label it. You might say “I feel exhausted in a way rest doesn’t touch,” or “My motivation has dropped and I’m struggling to get it back,” or “I’m finding it harder to be present at home, but it’s not because I care any less.” This helps your partner understand the depth of what’s happening, rather than seeing it as disinterest.

Burnout often creates emotional distance that can be misread and so small reassurances can be powerful; “If I seem flat or distant, it isn’t about you. I’m running on empty, and I’m trying to figure out how to come back to myself.” That might help to prevent misattunement or unnecessary self-doubt in the other person.

And it’s absolutely fine to tell them what you need from the conversation: “I don’t need you to fix anything, I just need you to understand where I am right now.” Allowing someone to meet you with compassion is part of healing.

The loss of drive you’re feeling isn’t a personal flaw. It’s actually one of the most common early signs that your mind and body are overwhelmed. When we’ve been operating under sustained pressure, the system starts to conserve energy. Tasks that once felt manageable suddenly feel like climbing a hill. Even things you usually enjoy can lose their spark. This is a predictable response to chronic stress as your brain is trying to protect you by slowing you down. It's a signal that parts of you are carrying more than they can hold, and they’re calling for attention. The invitation here is not to push harder, but to soften, to understand that your lack of motivation is your system saying, “I can’t keep going at this pace.”

Motivation will return, but not through force. It comes back when the nervous system feels safe enough, soothed enough, regulated enough to lift itself out of survival mode. This often happens slowly, in waves, through small acts of rest, connection, and honesty. You’re not meant to function like a machine; you’re a human with limits, rhythms, and needs. When those needs go unmet for too long, the drive drops. When they’re met again even in small ways, then drive begins to rebuild.

And this is why speaking this aloud matters so much. You don’t need perfect words, or a polished explanation, or a solution already mapped out. You just need to let someone in on what’s happening inside you. Naming it interrupts the isolation. It signals to your system that you’re not carrying this alone. It creates room for understanding rather than misinterpretation in your relationship. And most importantly, it’s one of the first steps back towards safety, emotionally, relationally, and physiologically.

You don’t have to begin with a big conversation. You can begin with one sentence. Something like, “I’m struggling more than I’ve been able to say.” Even clumsy beginnings are beginnings. And once that door is open, you’re no longer navigating this on your own, which is often the point at which recovery quietly starts.

Remember that you deserve care, support, and space to breathe - and none of this makes you weak or failing. You’re doing the best you can within the limits of a very tired system. Let this be the moment you stop carrying it alone. You’re allowed to ask for understanding, you’re allowed to slow down, and you’re allowed to be human.

Go gently with yourself.

With warmth, Lynsey