The Slow Burn of Burnout: When You’re Functioning on Empty and Nobody Notices
- Kristina Huntington-Miller

- 5 days ago
- 2 min read

It doesn’t happen all at once.
Burnout is sneaky like that. It starts quietly, the kind of tired that sleep doesn’t fix, the sigh you let out before opening another email, the way your coffee cup sits in your hand a little longer each morning because you need just one more minute before pretending you’re okay.
People think burnout means collapse. But more often, it means continuing. It’s the version of you that keeps showing up, keeps helping, keeps saying, “I’m fine,” because the world doesn’t stop for exhaustion. It’s being good at functioning, so good that no one realizes you’re running on fumes.
And that’s the cruelest part. When you’ve built your life around being capable, it’s hard to know how to be anything else. You stop noticing how heavy it’s gotten because functioning has become muscle memory. You tell yourself it’s just a season, just a rough week, just how life is right now.
But burnout isn’t just stress. It’s the slow erosion of joy. It’s the numbness that creeps in where excitement used to live. It’s looking at the things you once loved, your career, your family, even your hobbies, and feeling nothing.
I see it often in clients who describe it as feeling flat. Not sad, not angry, not even anxious, just empty. The spark is gone, but the world keeps demanding light.
And yet, there’s hope in even naming it. Because once you stop pretending you’re fine, you can start rebuilding. Burnout thrives in silence, it loses power when you speak it aloud.
Therapy isn’t about quitting your job or making sweeping changes overnight. It’s about rediscovering you underneath the expectations and the endless doing. It’s about rest, real rest, not as a reward, but as a right.
If you’re reading this and realizing how long you’ve been surviving instead of living, this is your sign. You don’t have to earn your way to peace. You don’t have to wait until things fall apart.
Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is stop before you break.
Let’s find your way back to something that feels like you again.



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