🪺 Glimmer Nest - Burning Bright and Fading Fast

Reflections on Burnout and Balance

It's 3 AM, and here I am, staring at my computer screen, words blurring as I try to keep my eyes open. This has become my new normal - early mornings, late nights, and a constant feeling of being on a treadmill that's set just a little too fast. I'm in what I can only describe as a severe burnout phase, but the world doesn't stop spinning just because I'm exhausted.

'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable

And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table

No one can find the rewind button, girl

So cradle your head in your hands

And breathe, just breathe.’

-Anna Nalick's 'Breathe (2 AM) song … feels like a bit of an anthem right now, well, at least this part…

My days start at 4 AM (recently pushed to 3 AM) with client work, followed by making breakfast for my autistic son around 9. He's 15 now, with high anxiety and pathological demand avoidance. Tasks he once did with ease - clearing his plate after a meal, or being in a room separate from me - have become monumental hurdles. Now, even a quick trip to the restroom or stepping away to make dinner requires a formal announcement and negotiated terms. It's as if the invisible tether between us has shortened, his anxiety spiking at the slightest change in routine or my presence.

Getting him to do anything, even eat, feels like an uphill battle some days. It takes its toll, but the hugs we share are a lifeline - for both of us. They're moments of connection, of dopamine, of reminding each other we're not alone in this. When he says, "My brain is shutting down," I understand more than he'll ever know.

Recently, I lost a major client abruptly, and the financial hit has me hustling harder than ever. The sudden loss didn't just impact my finances - it shook my sense of security and self-worth. My first thought was that I should have had contingencies in place. It's ironic; I'm often the person others ask if I have a buffer - financially, with time, with energy. But I've realized I'm the one creating the buffer for others, always leaving myself exposed.

Initially, I wrestled with thoughts that maybe the client didn't like me enough. But rationally, I know it was a business decision about costs. Still, that knowledge doesn't soothe the sting of what feels like failure. It's a stark reminder of the precariousness of my situation, the lack of a safety net I've allowed myself.

I have a friend and colleague who, like me, often burns the candle at both ends. We both spring into action when we feel we can 'make it work.' But there's a crucial difference between us - her boundaries are much stronger than mine. She finds it easier to say 'no,' though she still remembers what it was like to say yes and trust people to a fault.

I, on the other hand, find myself caught in a web of my own making. My belief that people inherently mean well often gets me into trouble. I say yes to throwing in free work, convinced that it will make clients like me more or see my true value. It's a people-pleasing reflex I can't seem to shut off. 'If they could just see what I can do here,' I think, 'maybe they'll hire me for real. They'll find the money and pull the trigger.'

But this approach often backfires. I end up frustrated when these freebies don't lead to longer engagements. It's a cycle that leaves me feeling undervalued and overextended, yet I struggle to break free from it. This tendency to overextend myself, to always be the buffer for others while neglecting my own needs, is at the core of my current burnout.

Observing my colleague's stronger boundaries is both inspiring and challenging. It's a reminder of what's possible, but also a stark contrast to my own limitations. I'm learning, slowly but surely, that saying 'no' doesn't mean I'm less valuable or less kind. It's a form of self-respect that I'm still working to cultivate.

The words I read about AuDHD individuals resonate deeply: "We surge forward on waves of vision and urgency, only to be pulled under by exhaustion we cannot explain until it's too late." I wonder if this describes me too. Am I chasing clarity and that brief sense of alignment when my brain finally syncs with my desire to do something that matters?

I'm starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, I need to step back when my body and mind are screaming for rest, even if no one else understands why. It means seeing rest not as a weakness or a reward, but as an essential part of my work.

This shift asks me to rebuild trust with myself. After years of pushing past my limits, it's not easy to believe that I can stop before collapse. I second-guess the need to pause. I feel guilt when I slow down. But I'm trying to notice the early signs of burnout and respond with care instead of pushing through.

Community matters here too. When I'm with others who understand this rhythm, who know what it is to burn bright and fade fast, I find words for experiences I've never been able to name. A member in a community I lead said these words and I was stunned— “People often mistake momentum and productivity for stability. When you move quickly, speak passionately, and generate ideas with ease, they assume you're thriving in all aspects of your life. They don't see the aftermath. They don't feel the cost.” I could feel that in my bones.In those spaces, I can be honest about my limits without fear of judgment. I can dream big without disappearing into the work. Does this describe you? Let’s connect.

Where do I go from here? Back to myself. Back to listening to my body and mind when they say "enough." I don't need to abandon my desire to do good through my work and actions in my little corner in the world. I need to hold it with care.

I'm still figuring out how to balance my work, my son, and my own needs. Sharing these thoughts feels like a step towards accepting that it's okay to be unsure and to work towards better, more sustainable habits built off of my own findings.

What phrases have you used to set boundaries kindly but firmly? I'm still learning, and your experiences could help.

Also, if anyone knows of part-time or contract opportunities in community building, content writing, or career coaching with kind people, I'm all ears. Yes, I've thought about coaching myself - I know I'm a tough client. But I'm practicing saying "no," so …

Sending hugs,

P.S. - Keep breathing.

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