Part 2: Recovery from Burnout — What Healing Actually Looks Like
Burnout: Part 2 — Recovery
Personal journey of the author
Spoiler alert!
I’m still figuring it out.
I'm feeling layers of me slipping off like flakes of skin from burnt shoulders—tumbling and sliding back down to earth, then evaporating into air.
I'm looking around. This home. These rooms. My own face in the mirror.
It all feels a little foreign. Like someone rearranged the furniture while I was sleeping.
The life is mine. But I’m a stranger to it.
Because the version of me that left for Bali? She didn’t come back.
And what a gift that is.
But it hurts.
Sometimes I feel my breath catch in my throat.
The weight of all those years I spent in survival mode hits me sideways.
Like remembering something you tried hard to forget.
Right now, it’s about learning how to live in a body again.
Not just function in it—but really live in it.
A body that is safe.
A body that’s worth saving.
If burnout is a shutdown—a system freeze—then recovery is the thaw.
Slow. Subtle. Sometimes slippery.
Mind, body, and spirit starting to move again, together.
And no, it doesn’t always feel good.
There are days I feel even more exhausted than before.
It’s like my body finally believes me when I say we’re safe—so it collapses into the rest it never had.
There’s grief.
Grief for the time I lost in hyperdrive.
Grief for how long I ignored myself.
And grief for how unfamiliar it feels to stop.
But this is the work.
Burnout taught me to override every signal my body gave me.
Recovery asks me to listen.
So I’m learning to rest without guilt. (Or at least, to rest with guilt—and do it anyway.)
I’m saying no. And noticing how much it shakes me.
I’m sitting in silence, watching what comes up when I’m not numbing, scrolling, fixing, planning.
And you know what?
I’m getting hungrier.
Not just for food.
For music. For connection. For something good and slow and soul-deep.
Recovery isn’t linear. It’s not some finish line I’m sprinting toward.
It’s a reclamation.
Of time. Of breath. Of self.
And every now and then, I catch myself mid-thought, mid-task, mid-tears…
And realise: I’m here. I made it.
Not all the way through. But back into myself.
The technical side
Burnout recovery isn’t a productivity hack. It’s not about bouncing back stronger, waking up at 5 a.m., or finally nailing your to-do list.
It’s about learning how to be in a body again.
If burnout is a system shutdown, then recovery is the slow rebooting of that system: body, mind, and spirit. And like all reboots, it’s messy. It glitches. It takes time.
What Recovery Actually Feels Like
Recovery doesn’t always feel good at first. You might feel more tired before you feel more energised. You might grieve the time you lost in survival mode. You might notice how much it hurts to finally stop.
This is normal. Necessary, even. Because burnout asks you to override every signal your body gives you—until you no longer recognise them. Recovery, on the other hand, requires you to listen. To get quiet enough to feel again.
So, what does that look like?
You rest without guilt (or at least, you notice the guilt and rest anyway).
You say no and feel the discomfort of that boundary.
You stop reaching for the coping strategies that once got you through the day—and sit with what surfaces in their absence.
You get hungrier. For food. For connection. For joy.
Recovery from burnout is not a straight line. It’s a reclamation. Of energy, yes—but also of self.
The Medical Link: What Happens to the Body in Burnout Recovery
Burnout is more than a mindset. It’s a full-body state.
When you’re burnt out, your body often produces too much cortisol (your main stress hormone), or swings to producing too little after prolonged stress. This dysregulation impacts nearly every system in the body.
As you begin to recover:
Cortisol levels slowly begin to normalise.
Sleep becomes more restorative as your circadian rhythm settles.
Your immune system rebounds—you may get sick less often or feel less inflamed.
Gut function improves, helping with digestion, bloating, and even mood.
Hormonal systems (like thyroid and reproductive hormones) may stabilise—especially important for women.
Paradoxically, recovery can make you feel worse before better. You may experience fatigue, body aches, or even emotional waves as your nervous system switches from "go mode" to "rest mode." It’s a sign that your body is thawing.
This phase can be misunderstood as a setback—but it’s actually a recalibration. A coming back online. A shifting out of chronic survival.
You Can’t Do This Alone
Burnout thrives in isolation. Recovery happens in relationship. Whether it’s with a therapist, a coach, a group, or a retreat—being witnessed and supported is essential. Not just because it feels good. But because the nervous system co-regulates. Healing becomes possible when we feel safe in the presence of another.
You don’t have to explain yourself. You don’t have to earn your rest. You don’t have to wait until you’re falling apart to be worthy of care.
The Slow Path Forward
If you’re recovering from burnout, here’s what I want you to know:
You are not lazy.
You are not broken.
You are not behind.
You are healing.
And it’s allowed to take time.
The body doesn’t respond to force. It responds to safety. The more you meet yourself with compassion—not punishment—the more your system begins to trust you again.
Burnout told you to make yourself small, to ask for less, to disappear. Recovery invites you to take up space again. To want again. To be here.
Not just surviving—but living.