Burnout-and choosing less to get more

Burnout: My Journey to Less

Burnout is real, and when you throw motherhood into the mix, it’s a whole new level of chaos. Let me take you on my journey through it. 😅

It all started after grad school, just after I’d bought a house and thought I was doing everything *right.* I went to my doctor, (who was used to seeing me every few weeks because I was constantly sick. I didn’t realize at the time my body was trying to tell me to rest, take it down a notch. I blamed it on a bad immune system and working with kids.) Anyway, there I was, sitting in my doctor’s office, tears streaming down my face. He asked, “What’s wrong?” and all I could say was, “I don’t know! Everything in my life is good—I just graduated, bought a house, life is great.” He looked at me, nodded, and reached for his prescription pad, saying,”You don’t have to feel this way, I can help.” Desperate, I nodded in agreement.

The meds helped… for a while. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t just depression, it wasn’t just anxiety. I didn’t know what it was at the time, I just knew that getting through the day was a task. I worked, and slept. 🙃 I had drained my energy reserves trying to juggle grad school, two jobs, and all the demands life threw at me. My plate was way too full, and I had no idea how to pace myself.

I mean, you’d think being a therapist, I’d understand burnout, right? But nope—I was too busy trying to be Do The Things… and wondering why I kept crashing into walls. It turns out that knowing all the theory doesn’t help when you’re busy ignoring the giant flashing “Warning: You’re Burning Out!” signs in your own life. 🤦‍♀️

Eventually, I did what any overwhelmed human would do—I started taking things off my plate. *Fast.* I learned to set boundaries and redefine self-care. And spoiler alert: self-care is way more than bubble baths and eating healthy. 🛁🌿 I needed real rest—more sleep, time to play, and moments to just *be.* I needed fewer commitments, fewer expectations, and more time outdoors.

Gradually, I got better. And then… I became a mom. 👶 Just like that, the to-do lists multiplied overnight. The self-care strategies that had worked so well before? Out the window. Now, it was crying babies, endless time commitments, and the exhaustion of keeping a tiny humans alive while trying to survive myself. The overwhelm was back, and I had to adjust—again.

So, I shifted gears. Soulful art became finger painting in the bathtub. 🎨 My quiet time morphed from Enya and candles to cuddles and Baby Mozart. 🍼 Priorities changed. The clean house? Less important. Being present? The new goal. I found moments where I could sink my feet into the grass while keeping my toddlers contained. I adjusted, and it worked… for a while.

But as my kids grew, so did the commitments—extracurriculars, school, work deadlines. It was all *too much.* And in the midst of this chaos, I decided to open my own business. This may seem counter-intuitive but I was tired. My thought was if I am dumping all this time into someone else’s vision, why not do it for myself, my way. I needed more control, I needed to do things on my terms. This was a game-changer, giving me a chance to create a schedule that worked for me, to slow down the grind while still supporting my family.

Then, by chance, by happenstance, through synchronicty, I am not sure how I got there honestly, but I came across the term Highly Sensitive by Elaine Aron. Insert deep dive here, and I realized I was highly sensitive. Trying to keep up with “normies” (no offense, normies, I love you) was just not in the cards for me. I couldn't compare my schedule to others. I had to accept that I was wired differently, that my energy had limits, and that burning myself out trying to meet everyone else's expectations was never going to work. I needed to play by my own rules.

But burnout? It’s a sneaky beast. Some mornings, even getting out of bed felt impossible. Staying awake past my kids’ bedtime? Forget about it. I often fell asleep moments after tucking them in, sometimes even in their beds. If I tried pushing past and staying up late, my body reminded me to rest by getting sick and forcing me back to bed.

My self-care was pretty good. Monthly acupuncture, Check. Good sleep, Check. Eating healthy, Check. Leaning into others, still a struggle. Making sure I set boundaries, Check. However, the drowning feeling was still there. I was managing, but not living fully.

Then came COVID. Our lives, like everyone else’s, turned upside down. The kids came home, and I shifted to doing virtual therapy. I closed my physical office—a space I had poured my heart into creating—and with a heavy heart, I re-evaluated *everything.* When the next school year came, I decided to homeschool. It started as a practical decision because of the pandemic, but it turned out to be an unexpected gift. 🌟

Gone were the daily battles over time, the morning rushes, the “GET YOUR SHOES ON NOW!” meltdowns. We traded those for schoolwork done in pajamas, laundry tossed in between clients, and well-rested kids who no longer had to face after-school homework wars.

For my family, the pandemic, despite all its hardships, actually reduced our stress. And as the world started to return to “normal,” I realized I didn't want to go back. I didn't want the chaos, the frantic pace, the burnout.

So, we chose *less*. Not as some radical act of rebellion, but as a conscious choice for calm and sanity. In all that hustle, I hadn't even realized my boys were feeling burned out too. Most of our conflicts came from being bone-tired or being hungry and not being able to get food on the table fast enough. We were done with the fast-paced, on-demand lifestyle. We needed a slower rhythm, more time to recover. ❤️

Now, four years into homeschooling, we sleep more than most families. We have less structure. We have one or two activities, and social events are maybe once a week. Our house? Still not always clean. Often, we're home together but each in our own space, doing our own thing. Our time still includes cuddles on the couch, game nights, and things that are slower paced.

Like all moms, I worry whether I'm doing things right. Will my kids be stereotyped as "awkward homeschoolers"? Am I harming them by not making their childhood more demanding? Honestly, I don't have the answers to those questions yet. What I do know is that I've been able to preserve my sanity. I don't fight with my kids as much, and our time as a family is peaceful. Maybe I can send them into the world without their nervous systems being on fire, without starting adulthood already burned out. If that's the case, I'll take the awkwardness. 🙂

By choosing less, we found more—more time, more peace, more connection. Sometimes, the best decision is the one that lets you just *breathe*.

With love and healing,

Laura 💖