You Don’t Have to Burn Out to Deserve a Break: A Story About Work, Rest & Rediscovery

Burnout doesn’t always hit all at once. Sometimes, it creeps in slowly —so slowly that by the time you recognize it, you’re already running on empty. I didn’t realize how far I’d pushed myself until I reached a point where I literally couldn’t stand the sight of my computer.

I had just moved to a new country, with a house full of furniture, a supportive partner, and a cat. I stepped into a new job with more seniority, where I picked things up faster than usual.

And then, the pandemic hit. Suddenly, I was working from home for a company whose demand was higher than ever. The lines between work and life blurred, and without realizing it, I had fallen into a cycle of constantly giving more.

Looking back, I can see how many small, unnoticed moments led me toward burnout long before I reached my breaking point

What I didn’t know at the time was that burnout wasn’t just about working too much. It was about a misalignment between what I gave and what I got back. And figuring that out would eventually help me rebuild my career in a way that felt energizing instead of draining.

The Breaking Point & Finding My Passion Again

It wasn’t during work that I realized something was seriously wrong. When you’re constantly running to the next thing, it’s hard to notice the toll it’s taking. It happened in the middle of a yoga session. I suddenly broke down, in tears. My body felt like it had no energy left, and for the first time, I knew I just wanted to stop.

It took me months to recover. Five months of long walks, deep support, and rediscovering simple joys. I threw myself into photography and writing. They have been some of my biggest hobbies at the time. Slowly, without pressure, I started to wonder:

Do I go back? Should I go back to university for psychology instead? Do I have any energy left for engineering?

Bit by bit, I found the energy to reach out to old colleagues. Especially people who had worked closely with me and knew me well. At that moment, I wasn’t looking for a job yet. I just needed to be reminded of what I was good at.

(Recovering from burnout deserves its own post, but today, I want to focus on coming back.)

The biggest lesson I learned is this: just because I can do something doesn’t mean I enjoy doing it over and over again.

You wouldn’t work in a coffee shop just because you know how to make coffee, right? In the same way, you don’t have to stay in a role just because you’ve demonstrated the skills for it. The world is vast, and there’s space for everyone. We deserve a job that excites us where we can use our unique strengths.

As I started to recover, I gave myself permission to think. What do I really, really love doing?

There was a reason psychology had been on my mind. I loved working deeply with people. I loved supporting them. But I also knew I had spent years building deep technical expertise. So I started looking at my work from a different angle:

What parts of my job actually fueled me?

I realized that it wasn’t just about the technical side. Sure, I could install Kubernetes clusters and be on-call for Kafka, but what truly excited me was enabling people during challenging times. I sketched a few things:

• Platform work: building systems that enabled others.

• Postmortems & incidents: leading high-stakes moments with clarity and figuring out how we could improve without fear.

• Organizational communication challenges: helping teams navigate complexity.

Is there a role/team that just does this?

I started by making a list of companies I like. Their culture, their size, their approach to engineering. Their philosophy on failure, learning, and resilience. Tech blogs can give some hints of these. Then, I checked: Do I know anyone there? Could I talk to someone and understand if it was the right fit?

At the same time, I wrote a “README.md” about myself. More than a CV, this was a direct and human introduction in markdown:

 This is Busra.
This is what I’m good at.
This is what excites me.
This is the kind of team I want to work with.
Do we match?

And then, out of nowhere, a company I hadn’t even considered reached out to me. 

They had exactly the team I had been looking for: Resilience Engineering in SRE. Incident Reviews, Postmortems, System Risks. Is this real? 

I need to get this job. 

Loving the Work —And Knowing When to Step Away

And I did. And I loved it. For a long time.

I loved its bottom-up culture, where ideas came from the people closest to the work. I loved that they invested in SRE more than any company I had ever seen. And most of all, I loved the people.

I learned so much, laughed so much, and eventually, I got to lead the exact team I had once wished existed. Five years after my burnout, I had built a career I was proud of.

Then I started to feel something shift. I wasn’t exhausted, and I wasn’t unhappy. But for the first time in eleven years, I felt like I needed a real break.

My very caring manager asked me, “Busra, are you sure you’re not burned out? Take some time to rest and come back when you feel better.”

But I already felt good. I simply wanted a period of not working at all, with no strings attached.

I knew this wasn’t burnout because I still had plenty of energy. I just wanted to invest that energy in other areas of my life for a while.

And because I loved my job, I felt confident I’d find my way back again.

So, I left my job happy, with bittersweet goodbyes. Encouragement, inspiration, and excitement —not just for me, but for those around me who saw that it’s possible to step away on your own terms.

And then? I did exactly what I wanted to do more of.

I painted more. I rented my own studio space. Gave photography sessions to artist friends. Helped a friend open a cafe. I let myself grow in ways I had never had the space for before. I knew I didn’t have to rush. I trusted that as long as I followed what felt right, I would eventually start thinking about what I wanted to do next.

And I did.

Five months later, I started Humans in Systems.

I’m now slowly starting over, doing what I love most —almost the same work, but hopefully with a wider impact.

Final Thoughts

Stepping away doesn’t mean stepping back. It means making space for something new.

Take the time you need to invest in yourself as a whole human.

You can lose your passion, find it, and redefine it as many times as you need.

Just give yourself permission to do so.

Rest will follow, not because someone tells you to take it, but because you trust yourself enough to know when it’s time.

💌 After so many heartfelt responses to this blog post, I’m creating a small space for an honest conversation about burnout —join us here if you are interested in.
(Added on March 19th)