Why I Do This Work: My Own Experiences With Burnout
Burnout isn’t a personal problem—it’s an epidemic in our workplaces. The more we talk about it and share our stories, the closer we get to real, meaningful change.
At the height of my career, I was leading a thriving organization, raising my child as a single mother, and navigating the challenges of undiagnosed neurodivergence and perimenopause. To others, it might have seemed like I had it all together. But inside, I was burning out and burning up.
One night, stuck at my desk, I realized I hadn’t eaten, moved, or even gone to the bathroom for hours. I was frozen—physically and mentally. The work was getting done, but I wasn’t. I didn’t know how to stop the spiral. People saw me as resilient, someone who always pushed through, but the truth is that resilience without rest leads to collapse.
That night, I knew something had to change, but I had a list of things I needed to get done first, before figuring out what that something was. Burnout doesn’t strike all at once—it builds slowly, creeping into every part of your life until you’re constantly running on empty. You feel like you should push through the exhaustion because that’s what the work demands.
And as the first woman to serve as Executive Director at my organization, I carried not just the responsibilities of the role but also the unspoken pressures that often accompany women in leadership. These pressures weren't just external—they were deeply ingrained beliefs that I had internalized over years of navigating a male-dominated landscape. But they were unsustainable and, ultimately, detrimental.
I was also leading my organization during a time of unprecedented chaos—a political upheaval followed by a global pandemic. I relied on the conventional wisdom of pushing through. I attended the workshops, hired the coaches, and tried the recommended strategies. Yet, I still found myself and my team struggling.
The convergence of unrelenting external pressures, internal expectations, and my neurodivergence led me to a breaking point.
I vividly remember nearly becoming physically ill during a speech—a task that once invigorated me but had become overwhelming due to the sensory demands. I was moving from meeting to meeting in a haze, unable to regulate my energy. My executive function faltered; even simple tasks like responding to emails or preparing for meetings became monumental challenges.
Colleagues began to notice. Some interpreted my behaviors as flaws or shortcomings, not realizing a deeper issue was at play. I felt increasingly isolated and misunderstood.
For me, burnout wasn’t just about exhaustion but a profound sense of disconnection from myself and the world around me.
The turning point came when I was diagnosed with ADHD—and later, autism. This revelation was both daunting and liberating. It explained so much about my experiences and opened the door to self-acceptance and growth.
Because the truth is, burnout isn’t a personal failure. It results from environments that require too much from the individual and offer too little institutional support.
If you’ve been there, you know the feeling: trying to balance it all while feeling like something inside you is breaking. Burnout isn’t about not being strong enough—it’s about being human in systems that expect superhuman endurance.
My burnout wasn’t just about being overworked—it was about trying to be everything to everyone in systems that weren’t built for me. I was succeeding and failing but wasn't taking care of myself. I couldn’t rest, and I didn’t have the space to recover.
People knew me as resilient—someone who always bounced back. But bouncing back without breaks only leads to one thing: collapse. Eventually, I realized no one would give me the grace to recover, so I took it for myself. Leaving the career I had built—a life I loved—was the most challenging, most courageous thing I’ve ever done.
It was my rebellion against a system that didn’t allow for rest. And while it felt terrifying, it was also my liberation. So many of us who spend our careers advocating for others have the hardest time finding our voice to advocate for ourselves.
The solution to burnout isn’t just taking a break or downloading a meditation app. Burnout demands systemic change. I learned that with my kind of burnout, you don’t recover with vacation or some time off; it was about rediscovering myself and learning how I worked best. Continuing to push myself to and through burnout was no longer going to work. I deserved better, and so do you.
Having been on both sides—as a leader seeking solutions and as someone personally affected—I realized that we needed a new approach to addressing burnout.
That’s why I founded Flower Street Strategies: to empower leaders and individuals to embrace the hard work of introspection, challenge their own beliefs, and create meaningful, lasting impact. By blending personal experience with professional expertise, we craft strategies that resonate deeply on a human level while driving organizational success.
Ready to go beyond the band-aid fixes and get real about burnout?
Download my recent issue paper - Burnout in the Workforce: Transformative Solutions for Lasting Change, it’s all about creating real, lasting change. Sign up for my mailing list to get exclusive strategies and insights that make a difference.
About the Author
Stacy Chamberlain is the Founder and CEO of Flower Street Strategies. Drawing on extensive experience in leadership and organizational development, she is passionate about empowering individuals and organizations to prioritize well-being, embrace neuro-inclusivity, and build cultures where everyone can thrive.
Join me on this transformative journey. Together, we can create a new paradigm of leadership that values authenticity, inclusivity, and sustainable success.
