My Burnout Story 2: When the Burnout Didn't End
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EDUCATORS' BURN OUT
7/17/20262 min read
After my breakdown, I took two days off from work. During those two days, I couldn't stop thinking that I was a failure. I truly believed I was a loser.
When I returned, everything felt different.
I went back to my roles as both a preschool teacher and a director, but this time without my colleague—the person who had started the school with me. Suddenly, I felt like I had to carry everything on my own.
Looking back now, I realize that recovery didn't happen in a few weeks or even a few months. It took me another two or three years to feel like myself again.
Sometimes I wonder, what if I had known earlier that burnout takes so long to heal? Would I have been kinder to myself? Would I have asked for help sooner? I don't know the answer, but I often think about it.
One of the hardest parts was the guilt.
My students were growing up with me. Some had been in my class since they were three years old, and by then they were five or six. I loved them deeply and cared about them as if they were my own family. Because of that, I constantly worried that I wasn't giving them my best.
Even after returning to work, I still wore a mask every day—not just the physical mask, but an emotional one too. I smiled, taught, and carried on as if everything was fine, while inside I was exhausted.
Of course, I was getting older too, but I knew this wasn't just about age. The burnout stayed with me for another two or three years. The feeling never completely left. I was afraid that if I slowed down or relaxed, I would fall into that dark place again.
That fear followed me everywhere.
Even something as simple as going to see a movie after work made me feel guilty. Instead of enjoying myself, I would hear the same voice in my head telling me that I should be working, planning, or thinking about my school.
I call it my "responsibility disease."
It whispered to me every single day:
"You're not good enough."
"You should be doing more."
"You're responsible for everything."
It felt as though I had to think about my school and my students not 24 hours a day—but 25 hours a day.
That kind of responsibility isn't healthy. It's impossible to live that way. Yet for years, I believed that was what being a dedicated teacher and leader meant.
Now I understand something I couldn't see back then.
Caring deeply for your students does not mean sacrificing yourself.
A teacher who takes care of herself is not a selfish teacher. She is a teacher who can continue showing up with kindness, patience, and joy.
I wish someone had told me that sooner.
As I continued my journey of healing from burnout, I found myself expressing the feelings I couldn't always put into words through my song "Lord, I Didn't Know I Was Burning"—a prayer from a tired heart asking God for help, strength, and the courage to begin healing. Lord, I Didn't Know I Was Burning (YouTube)