You’re tired, but it’s more than tired. Your brain won’t shut off, your inbox keeps exploding, and even on your days “off,” you can’t stop thinking about work. Or maybe you’ve gone numb—watching the clock, coasting through meetings, slowly fading out.

That’s not just stress. That’s burnout. And the truth is, not all burnout looks the same.

Research shows there are three distinct types of burnout. And the cure? Depends entirely on which one is quietly draining you.

Let’s break them down—Sterling-style—and get you the fix you didn’t know you needed.

Type 1: The Overload Burnout

You’re the go-to. The workhorse. The one who “always comes through.” But lately, that superhero cape feels more like a straitjacket.

What it feels like: You say yes too much, work late too often, and resent the expectations that you helped set. You start venting about everything—from policies to coworkers to clients. You’re exhausted, but you can’t stop pushing.

Your Recovery Plan:

• Set capacity-based goals. Stop committing by default. Estimate what a project actually takes—time, energy, brainpower—and give yourself permission to decline or delay.
• Switch from complaints to solutions. Complaining without action reinforces helplessness. When you’re frustrated, ask: What would fix this? Who do I need to talk to? What boundary needs to be set?
• Reclaim your wins. Revisit your highlight reel. Make a list of the deals you closed, the people you helped, the fires you put out. Let that remind you: You can get results without burning out.
• Fix what’s missing outside of work. Sometimes overworking is a smokescreen for personal emptiness. Reinvest in your relationships. Join that creative writing group. Reconnect to what fills you up outside the metrics.

Type 2: The Under-Challenged Burnout

You’re bored—but too polite or disillusioned to say so. Your work is predictable, your spark is gone, and your cynicism is slowly metastasizing.

What it feels like: You’re going through the motions. Nothing’s wrong, but nothing’s exciting. You’ve stopped growing, and secretly you wonder if you’re wasting your potential.

Your Recovery Plan:

• Say yes to something that scares you (in a good way). Volunteer for a project with visibility. Learn a new skill. Host a lunch & learn. Force your brain to stretch again.
• Flip your internal script. Cynicism is a defense mechanism. Try this instead: Who can I help today? How can I create meaning here, even if the work feels small?
• Be a spark for someone else. Want more joy? Create it. Compliment your team. Mentor the intern. Gratitude and generosity are antidotes to apathy.
• Have the brave conversation. If you’re ready for more challenge, say so. Don’t wait for someone to guess that you’re underutilized. Strategic communication is career currency.

Type 3: The Worn-Down Burnout

You’re trying. Really. But every step forward feels like pushing through mud. You care deeply—but the progress just isn’t showing up.

What it feels like: You’re discouraged, depleted, and quietly questioning your own capacity. You wonder: Is it supposed to be this hard?

Your Recovery Plan:

• Zoom out. Then zoom back in. Map out your project or goals from start to finish. Identify where things tend to stall—so you can get ahead of them. Success isn’t just effort—it’s pre-planning for obstacles.
• Activate your decompression menu. Burnout recovery requires rest, but not just Netflix and naps. What restores your nervous system? Try: nature walks, soft instrumental playlists, breathwork, journaling, or cold plunges.
• Reconnect to your ‘why’. Why does your work matter? Who benefits from your effort? What would be lost if you gave up now? Meaning fuels stamina. Reignite it on purpose.

The Real Fix: Know Your Pattern, Then Break It On Purpose

Burnout doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means your current system—your boundaries, your pace, your inputs—isn’t sustainable.

But here’s the empowering part: once you name your flavor of burnout, you can fix it.

That doesn’t always mean quitting your job or blowing up your life. Sometimes it means having one real conversation. Saying no once. Taking a walk instead of checking Slack at midnight. Saying, “I matter,” and backing it with your calendar.

You deserve a life that doesn’t burn you to the ground.

This is your invitation to start rebuilding.