How can we effectively address burnout when the standard advice to "re-evaluate values" and "pursue passion" is inaccessible due to a lack of financial and psychological safety?
All of our social media feeds are often full of inspirational posts telling you to "re-evaluate your values" and "just follow your passion" to avoid burnout. It’s mostly well intentioned with the occasional thing that helps momentarily,. But if you’re barely affording rent, facing unpaid bills, being chased by debt companies or just trying to get through the day without having a meltdown, that advice feels less like a solution and more like a cruel joke.
This isn’t for the people that have savings, support & time to rest. It's for the rest of us. The ones who are burnt out because we don't have the luxury of a safety net. We're stuck not from a lack of purpose, but because we have to survive.
In an ideal world we would all be able to make money from something we are passionate about without burning out, but when did this become such a core part of living whilst also being so unattainable for so many? Historically, work was just a way to put food on the table. It wasn't your entire identity. But now, we're told that if we're not obsessed with our jobs, we’re doing something wrong.
I never had the luxury of a safety net, i recognise my privilege in other ways but when I didn't make it through university, the choice wasn't between finding my purpose and getting a job; it was about survival. My mama was my rock emotionally, but financially, she couldn't afford for me to just move back in. So, from the very start, I was in survival mode, with no buffer to fall back on. Every decision was a calculation of risk versus reward, and the risk was always the fear of not being able to survive.
I had to work my ass off (and i know we all do). Without a degree, even an entry-level role was a fight to prove my worth. I kept my head down, learned on the job, and eventually, I broke into a design career. It felt like a massive victory, a validation of all the late nights and hard work. I was succeeding in a field that usually demands a degree, but the cost was more than just my time.
The pressure was relentless. In every job, I was constantly overcompensating for the lack of a degree, taking on extra work and staying late to prove I belonged. I never truly disconnected. My brain was a part-time job of managing deadlines and proving myself, and a full-time job of worrying about the future. I was living on the edge of a nervous breakdown, not to mention this period of my life i had no insight into neurodivergence, so i blamed my struggles on my own incompetence.
I finally hit a wall. I was so exhausted, so completely burnt out, that my performance started to slip. My creativity dried up, my focus disappeared, and my ability to even function in a meeting became a struggle. Eventually, I was let go. It felt like my biggest fear had come true. I had worked so hard to get here, only to have it all fall apart.
The worst part was that it became a cycle. I'd find another job, throw myself into it with the same desperate energy, only to reach the same breaking point. This pattern of pushing, crashing, and being let go wasn't just a series of bad jobs; it was the direct result of starting from a place of zero safety & not having the time and space to give myself grace for the way my brain works. My burnout wasn't a choice; it was an inevitability, and it showed me that without a safety net, every setback feels like a catastrophic failure.
I feel like it’s a bit of a win-win for employers. If you can be convinced you’re living your dream, you're more likely to work for less pay, put in longer hours, and ignore your boundaries. Burnout then becomes your fault for not being "passionate" enough, not the result of being overworked and underpaid. It also completely ignores the people in essential jobs, the ones that keep society running but aren't seen as "glamorous." Their work is valuable, even if it's not a so-called passion.
You can't follow your passion if you're too busy worrying about being one paycheck away from being homeless. The biggest flaw in this feel-good advice fails is the lack of financial and psychological safety.
Financial Safety: This isn't just about having some cash in the bank. It's about being free from the crushing weight of:
Debt: Student loans and overdue bills are like anchors, keeping you chained to a job you hate because the thought of falling behind is terrifying.
No Savings: Most of us don't have an emergency fund. Quitting without a new job is a fantasy, not an option.
High Costs: Everything from rent to food is so expensive that there's no room for error. You have to keep working just to keep your head above water.
Psychological Safety: This is just as important. It’s about not living in constant fear.
Toxic Workplaces: You can't be yourself or speak up without worrying you'll get fired. That's a huge mental drain.
Job Insecurity: When being let go is always a threat, you're in a state of low-grade panic.
Supporting Others: If you're the main person providing for your family (or yourself), your burnout takes a backseat to their needs.
These two things are tied together. A job in a terrible workplace might keep you afloat financially, but it’ll eventually sink you mentally.
This feeling of being trapped is why so many neurodivergent people turn to self-employment in the first place. When being employed feels like a constant, draining performance, building your own business seems like the ultimate escape. It promises the freedom to create your own schedule, control your sensory environment, and focus on your passions. But here’s the cruel irony: for many, it leads to a new kind of burnout. The pressure to be your own boss, accountant, marketer, and salesperson can be overwhelming.
Some of the very things we are good at also have a huge downfall, where you work for days without a break, neglecting food, sleep, and rest until you completely crash. You trade the rigid 9-to-5 for an "always-on" grind, swapping one unsustainable system for another, only this time, you have no HR department to turn to.
It’s relevant to mention that autistic people face a far higher rate of unemployment than the general population. For many, the constant effort of masking in a job or the sensory and social demands of a neurotypical workplace become huge barriers. The result is a cruel paradox: you're forced to choose between the profound stress of unemployment and the chronic, debilitating exhaustion of a job that requires you to be someone you’re not. The pressure isn't just to find a job, but to find one that won't completely break you, all while facing a job market that's not designed to see your strengths. The choice isn't between purpose and stability; it's often between financial ruin and self-erasure.
So it’s not about aligning with your values & it’s about survival, and how do you recover from burnout when you are just trying to survive?
Since you can't quit, the goal isn't to escape but to survive and endure. This means shifting your mindset and setting some serious boundaries.
Separate Your Identity: Your job is what you do, not who you are. This simple mindset shift can be incredibly freeing. It’s a transaction: they get your labor, you get a paycheck. That's it. Whether you are employed, freelance or not.
Take Your Breaks: Seriously. Don’t eat lunch at your desk. Stand up, walk around, and get a sip of water. These small moments are a lifeline.
Draw the Line: When work is over, it’s over. Turn off notifications, don’t check emails, and don’t do "just one more thing." Your time is your own.
Find Your Meaning Elsewhere: Your purpose doesn't have to come from work. Find a hobby, spend time with friends, or volunteer for a cause you care about. These things can provide the fulfillment your job can’t.
However, the above points can help this isn't just a personal problem. It's a systemic one. We need to stop blaming individuals for being exhausted and start demanding better from our employers and our society & we can’t solve it by
We need:
Real wages that keep up with the cost of living.
Stronger labor protections so we don't have to live in fear of being fired.
Better access to mental health support when we need it most.
A cultural shift that values rest and well-being as much as it values productivity.
To anyone out there feeling this way, your exhaustion is not a sign of personal failure. It's a perfectly logical response to a broken system. You’re not alone, and your survival is a victory in itself.
