The Burnout Trap: Why Working Hard Is Actually Lazy

I am rewiring my brain—and it ain’t pretty.

Right now, I’m trying—actually trying REALLY, REALLY hard—to do something that should be easy but isn’t. And despite having SO MANY emotional wellness and resilience tools at my disposal, I still find myself crying or emotionally abusing myself pretty much every day.

Because here’s the thing: I’ve been working hard my whole life, and it turns out, that was the lazy choice.

I know some of you have seen me posting about wintering, embracing slow productivity, and resisting the urge to grind myself into the ground. It should be easy to do that, right? Just… stop overworking. Just be lazy.

Well—it is. And it isn’t.

The Lie of Hard Work

Lately, I’ve been confronting some deep, inner stuff. And a thought hit me like a train:

I don’t have to try to be lazy. I already am.

Not lazy in the “sit on the couch all day” way. Lazy in the way I have blindly accepted society’s standards of work, even though they are killing me. Lazy in the way I let fear—of judgment, of failure, of running out of money—dictate my choices. Lazy in the way I avoid the hard work of facing my own programmed beliefs.

Hard work? Oh, that’s easy.

• It’s easy to throw myself into endless tasks.

• It’s easy to keep pushing, even when my body is screaming at me to stop.

• It’s easy to let the fear of debt, failure, or success keep me scrolling hellish LinkedIn job postings for positions I don’t want.

You know what’s actually hard? Stopping.

• Stopping to question the system I’ve been conditioned to obey.

• Stopping to rewrite the stories that tell me my worth is tied to my output.

• Stopping long enough to let the anxiety of rest burn through me without running back to the comfort of busyness.

That kind of work? That takes self-command, resilience, and actual courage.

"Do It Scared"—But What Happens When the Fear Changes?

When I was younger, my dad told me something that stuck with me:

"Bug, you can stay stuck there, or you can get over yourself and do it scared."

For most of my life, I took that to mean: Face outward fears. Chase the adrenaline rush. Push your limits. And I did. Skydiving, rock climbing, dating, public speaking, high-level leadership positions—check, check, check.

But then, at 25, something shifted. Suddenly, I wasn’t scared of external things anymore. I was scared of my own thoughts. My own shame. My own rest.

Because resting triggered the mental tape:

"I’m lazy."

"I’m a bad person if I’m not grinding at 120%."

"If I slow down, I’ll lose everything."

And that’s when I realized: I wasn’t being brave anymore. I was hiding in hard work.

The True Hard Work: Rewiring My Brain

So here I am, in the messy middle of something psychologists call Positive Disintegration (at least, I hope it’s positive, because it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way).

I’m dismantling the identity that made me “successful.” The one that made me seem wise, mature, and competent. The one that made me feel safe.

And I don’t know who I’ll be on the other side of this.

But I do know this: I am not willing to stay in the burnout trap just because it’s familiar.

So I’m rewriting my value system. Not easy. Not comfortable. But necessary. Some of the shifts I’m working on are:

✔ Detaching my self-worth from my income.

✔ Detaching my self-worth from how many hours I grind.

✔ Detaching my self-worth from my title and accolades.

✔ Giving myself permission to better my life now—not just hoard money for a hypothetical retirement at the expense of my wellbeing.

✔ Raising my risk tolerance (because intuition ≠ fear).

✔ Allowing myself to explore all my interests—even the ones that don’t “make sense” professionally.

✔ Allowing myself to fail in my work instead of obsessing over perfection.

✔ Trusting that people will help me when I ask.

✔ Believing I am worthy of joy, even if no one else is experiencing it first.

✔ Operating from hope instead of fear. (Nursing showed me the worst in people; now, I’m intentionally retraining my bias.)

✔ Feeling my emotions—especially the ones that make me uncomfortable, like shame, joy, and anger.

✔ Letting people see me struggle.

I am perfect at none of these things, and I never will be. That’s not the point. The point is growth—and growth is challenging, messy, and ongoing.

So yeah—hard work? That was the easy way out. The lazy way. The autopilot way.

But what I’m doing now?

This actually takes effort.

To Those of You in the Middle of This Too...

Growth is hard.

Self-improvement is hard.

Creating is hard.

Aging and getting wiser is hard.

Changing who you are inside is terrifying.

But if we don’t do this work, we stay stuck in self-sabotaging habits. We never become who we’re meant to be.

I know some of you are in this process. I also know it’s easier to go through it with support—with someone who can empathize, help you spot your blind spots, and call you out (kindly) when you’re spiraling.

If you need more tools for your mental resilience toolbox—or just a perspective-shifting rant session—I’ve got options to support you. Book a discovery call, and I’ll help you get started.

If now doesn’t feel like the right time, that’s okay too. You are welcome to hang out here as long as you need. Just know that when you’re ready, I’m here.

To my fellow thinkers, feelers, and deep processors:

Have you experienced Positive Disintegration? What values are you currently breaking down or rebuilding? What acts of self-kindness have helped you during an identity shift?

Let’s talk. Because if we’re going to rewire our brains, we don’t have to do it alone.