Burnout doesn’t hit you like a lightning bolt.
It’s not one moment, one deadline, or one bad week.
For me, burnout arrived quietly — months before I realized anything was wrong. It was like stress slowly accumulating, but heavier… stickier… more permanent. And by the time I understood what was happening, I was already deep in it.
This summer, during a period of juggling multiple projects and
delivering features under tight deadlines, I finally admitted to myself
what had been building for a long time:
I was burned out. Again.
The Subtle Warning Sign Nobody Told Me About
Most people picture burnout as exhaustion, anxiety, or collapse.
Those are real, but the earliest warning sign is much simpler:
The thing you love stops feeling like the thing you love.
For years, coding wasn’t just my job, it was my hobby, my excitement, my favorite kind of problem-solving. But then something shifted. Suddenly it felt like… work. Like obligation. Like pressure. And instead of noticing the shift, I ignored it and pushed harder.
That was mistake number one.
The Breaking Point: When Your Brain Simply Checks Out
As the deadlines stacked up, my mood tanked. I woke up tired. Sat at my desk tired. Ended the day even more tired.
It wasn’t just physical exhaustion — it was mental emptiness.
I’d open my editor, stare at the code, and feel absolutely nothing.
No ideas. No spark. No instinct.
Just a blank mind.
My social life took a hit too. I wasn’t present with friends. Conversations felt heavy. I carried this sense of doom everywhere, like there was no end in sight — only more work, more pressure, more expectations.
And that’s the thing about burnout:
it convinces you that the future is just a longer version of the present.
The Pressure of Being “The Fast One”
I’m still a relatively new developer, but I’ve proven myself to be fast and reliable. That’s great… until it becomes a trap.
Once you prove you’re fast, you start feeling like you have to stay fast.
Once you deliver under pressure, you feel like pressure is your new normal.
Working full-stack, building custom websites for large companies, fixing old ones, shipping features, all of it stacked into a constant sense of overwhelm. Not just the workload, not just the pace, not just the expectations, everything together.
And trying to keep living up to my own reputation was ruining me.
The Tech Pressure Nobody Talks About Honestly
People like to pretend the software world is chill. Desk job, comfy chair, coffee, laptop — how stressful can it be?
The truth is more complicated.
I constantly felt imposter syndrome.
I felt the pressure to learn everything, stay relevant, keep up with frameworks, new tools, new patterns.
And comparing myself to other developers online?
Terrible idea. Instant mood-killer.
Yet I don’t think the industry itself is toxic — I think the culture around productivity and self-comparison is.
Communities promote burnout-awareness, sure… but they also subtly glorify grinding until your brain melts. Both messages exist at the same time.
What Actually Helped Me Recover (And What Didn’t)
The thing that finally stopped me wasn’t discipline.
It was of course boundaries and self-awareness, but, mostly… It was holidays. And friends who kept telling me, repeatedly, to stop working 15 hours a day.
What helped:
- Time away from screens
- Hanging out with friends
- Reconnecting with old hobbies
- Doing things that weren’t “productive”
What didn’t help:
- Coding personal projects
(ironically, the thing I thought would recharge me actually drained me further)
It took about a month to feel normal again. And even now, I’m still figuring out new boundaries and new workflows.
Recovery isn’t a toggle — it’s a slow recalibration.
What I Learned (The Hard Way)
If I could talk to my past self, the one pulling late nights trying to meet every deadline, I’d say this:
“Take time off. Even if you love what you do. Especially if you love what you do.”
Loving something doesn’t make you immune to burnout, it makes you more vulnerable to it, because you won’t notice when the line between passion and pressure starts blurring.
The warning sign to watch out for?
When your hobby starts feeling like a job.
What Teams Should Do Differently
Burnout is personal, but companies contribute more than they realize. If I could ask teams to change one thing, it would be this:
Talk to the developers before agreeing to a feature or a deadline.
Not after. Before.
It sounds small, but it prevents the kind of silent overload that quietly destroys people.
What Helps Me Now
I’m still learning, but here’s what keeps me grounded today:
- Taking real breaks when I feel the early signs
- Working from home occasionally when I need space
- Listening to friends and family instead of ignoring them
- Taking notes so I don’t carry my entire mental load in my head
Small changes. Big impact.
Burnout Isn’t “Overreacting for a Desk Job”
This mindset needs to die.
Burnout isn’t about the physical effort of typing on a keyboard.
It’s about mental strain, unrealistic expectations, identity pressure,
comparison culture, and the constant feeling that you’re not keeping up.
It’s real. It’s heavy. And it can tear down even the most passionate developer.
The Message I Want Devs to Walk Away With
If you love coding, you don’t have to chase it nonstop.
Let yourself rest.
Let yourself disconnect.
Let your passion breathe.
Chill. If you love it, you don’t need to force it — it will come back on its own once you give it space.