For a long time, I believed burnout happened loudly.

I imagined some visible collapse.

A panic attack in an office bathroom.
A breakdown.
A public unraveling.
Something undeniable.

Instead, mine arrived politely.

It arrived while I was still functioning.

That’s what made it difficult to recognize.

I was still replying to messages.

Still meeting deadlines.

Still showing up.

Still sounding normal in conversations.

People kept describing me as reliable during the exact period I felt myself becoming emotionally hollow.

At the time, I didn’t have language for what was happening.

I just knew ordinary things were beginning to feel strangely heavy.

Not impossible.

Heavy.

The First Sign Was That Everything Started Feeling…