We talk about burnout like it’s just being “tired” or “stressed.” However, it is not. It is a fundamental breakdown of the operating system: your brain. I know, because I’ve been there. I was the high-performer, the one who “got things done,” until my executive function packed its bags and left the building. If you’re feeling this way, you’re not weak; your system is simply overloaded. You have entered the black hole of executive function. The exorbitant cost is not measured in dollars, pounds, or euros, but in the theft of your clarity, your joy, your purpose in life, and your ability to simply think. “Executive function” is the CEO of your mind. It is what lets you plan, prioritize, start tasks, and resist impulse. When you’re burned out, this crucial set of skills dissolves into a frustrating fog. Your frontal lobe goes on a long vacation and insists on not coming back.
Here’s what burnout truly feels like.
It’s the loss of momentum and decisiveness. A place of persistent despondency without a clear reason. Basic tasks that used to be fun now become an endless spectrum of drudgery. The art of prioritizing, a pivotal skill of high performance, goes on a hiatus and is instead replaced by paralysis. Your brain becomes indecisive; client requests go unanswered, team meetings, even when you are present, are uneventful, and even responding to emails becomes a herculean task. For me, it’s easier to make coffee, the only task with a clear start and finish.
Additionally, despite being a highly motivated self-initiator, burnout steals your initiation, which is the simple act of starting a task. I might have a brilliant idea for a new project, but the gap between the thought and the action feels like a chasm. I’ll spend an hour doing “preparatory” tasks like cleaning my desk and organizing files; anything that doesn’t require real cognitive lift. I look busy, but I’m just running the engines in idle. Somehow written plans become just that; the business ideas end up as ideas in the folders they occupy on my computer.
The guilt that comes with becoming an underperformer after years of hard work and dedication and the self-criticism eat at you, creating a toxic spiral of shame and deepening exhaustion, driving you deeper into the abyss of despondency and further burnout.
This never-ending loop of dread and aversion to real life activities beyond doing enough to be functional (pay the bills) wipes away your most important memories and makes the most important aspects of our life become fuzzy and glitchy. You begin to doubt your authenticity as you watch your working memory become unreliable. Words trail off mid-sentence, and the ability to initiate and complete tasks involving complex problem-solving becomes non-existent. Only auto-pilot functions survive the onslaught from this deeply physical, emotional, and spiritual phenomenon. At some point, you simply lack the energy for life and living.
As we try to make sense of the sadness, the good news is that burnout isn’t permanent. Your brain isn’t broken; it’s just waving a giant, exhausted white flag. Recovery isn’t about working harder; it is about rebooting the system.
Firstly: Forget about tackling the mountain of stress. Instead, focus on the smallest, most immediate thing you can accomplish. If the big report feels impossible, just aim to write the title. If the inbox is overwhelming, pick one email and reply to it. We need to build tiny, incremental wins to restore the feeling of competence and rebuild our initiation skill. We must be comfortable with drastically lowering our life’s bar.
Secondly: Recruit and outsource your executive function, given that our internal CEO has gone on sabbatical. Focus on tools that aid your memory and help you complete even the simplest of tasks, for example, put everything on your calendar and set alarms. Also learn to overcome the paradox of choice by prepping for the most banal things, like lunch and the same few outfits, allowing our brains the bandwidth for the big stuff.
Finally: Treat rest as the essential repair cycle your brain needs to function, not as a reward you earn after you finish everything (you never will). This means stepping away (truly stepping away) from work, screens, and even highly stimulating hobbies. Real rest is when your nervous system calms down enough to start clearing the cognitive debt.
You are not a machine built to endlessly produce. You are a person whose value isn’t tied to output. The most important innovation you can invest in is your own well-being. Your clarity, your creativity, your purpose, and your peace of mind are the most valuable assets you own. Don’t let burnout steal them from you and the world you were created to impact. Remember, time and chance happen to all of us, but we have significant input in how we allow our bodies and minds to exist in the spaces we occupy and influence.
Seleipiri Akobo is a physician executive.
