What is Burnout? The Need for Self-Care in High-Demand Careers

woman free from burn-out in the sunset

Sometimes, being a speech-language pathologist doesn’t feel like a calling. Let’s be honest, it feels like an endless marathon you never signed up for. If you’re working in special education or healthcare, you know exactly what I mean. The relentless demands, the emotional toll, and the constant pressure to give more of yourself can leave you feeling utterly hopeless. If that isn’t enough, add in the roles of mom, and wife, and heaven-forbid the challenge of being an individual with your own dreams, and balance starts to feel like a distant fantasy. I know, I’ve been there. I even mocked people who claimed otherwise during professional development seminars, and now I’m eating crow.

But here’s the absolute truth, balance isn’t a luxury. It’s a necessity. It’s an act of self-love and the foundation for living a meaningful life. Whether you choose it or not, you can’t sustain an unbalanced life for very long.

Understanding the Toll of Burnout in Special Education

Burnout isn’t just about feeling tired or overwhelmed, and it’s not about lacking the mental toughness to handle your career choice. It’s the result of ignoring your intuition for far too long until your body reaches a point of giving up. Burnout could be described as apathy: a deep, unsettling feeling of being trapped in a situation you know isn’t right. Research shows burnout has serious physical consequences, but your intuition likely already knows that. However, if intuition isn’t enough, scientific evidence confirms that chronic stress can lead to heart disease, depression, anxiety, and a weakened immune system (American Heart Association).

I’ve experienced this firsthand. Accumulated stress started to make me sick. My Apple Watch tracked my heart rate throughout the day, and the spikes were undeniable—especially during work hours and in specific classrooms. I wasn’t alone. My colleagues were struggling too, even though some were better at hiding it than others. Over nearly two decades, I’ve observed countless SLPs enter and exit this career, and the patterns are clear: the emotional and physical toll of giving everything at work while leaving nothing for ourselves or our families is unsustainable.

As a mother, it was even harder.

After days filled with managing student meltdowns, I would pick up my kids from school and try to hold it together. No matter how much I masked my exhaustion, my kids could feel it. They sensed my thin patience, my drained energy, and my inability to fully be the parent I wanted to be.

Every night, I clung to a 15-minute window of relaxation after everyone else had gone to bed. Weekends were clouded by the “Sunday Scaries,” creeping in earlier and earlier as I dreaded Monday. I felt guilty because I liked my career and was good at it. I knew other SLPs had it worse than me, but that didn’t negate the fact that the way we were conducting this profession was not serving me, my students, or my family.

Self-care and stress management became buzzwords I couldn’t relate to. I had no time for yoga. I had no mental energy to even write an affirmation in a journal. On top of that, I bore the weight of financial responsibilities for my family, health insurance, the mortgage, and retirement planning. Even as I felt the pressure of this career mounting and suffered migraines from stress, I couldn’t see a way out. Eventually, I reached a breaking point. I had to leap without a net.

Out of necessity, I chose to make changes—and step by step, the safety net began to appear.

Choosing the Present Over “Someday”

This is the only life we get. If you’re waiting for the perfect moment, when the kids are grown, when you retire, or when life feels easier, you might never get there. Life is unpredictable. Divorces happen. Illnesses happen. Waiting for a better time is a gamble.

This realization hit me hard. I couldn’t keep putting off joy, health, and my family’s well-being for a future that wasn’t guaranteed.

I’m blessed to have learned resilience early and to have married a man with a similar history. Growing up with very little taught my husband and me how to survive tough times. We’ve faced poverty, and it’s made us fearless. We know how to make do, and we’ve decided that risking financial security is worth it if it means living a life filled with joy, connection, and health. The best times in life have never been about money. As long as we have food, warmth, and health, love can thrive. I’ve become a collector of joy by choice, and let me tell you, my collection is priceless.

Stress doesn’t just rob us of happiness—it steals our health. I learned the hard way that chasing stability at the expense of joy and connection isn’t true stability. I would rather live in a modest home filled with love and fulfillment than in a gilded cage with no time for what matters most.

Frankly, I’d choose to live in a shack made of sticks if it meant I could truly enjoy my life. And yes, I’ve lived in a house with a hole in the wall, a “pet” coyote, and wild raccoons running in and out. I know the difference between surviving and thriving, and speaking from experience—I choose joy every time.

How I Found Balance

Finding balance doesn’t mean doing it all. It means making intentional choices and letting go of what doesn’t serve you. For me, this has meant:

  • Prioritizing my health. I listen to my body, giving it the care it needs—whether that’s rest, movement, or time in nature.

  • Being present with my family. My kids and husband deserve the best of me, not the leftovers.

  • Setting boundaries at work. I am passionate about helping my clients, but I no longer sacrifice myself in the process.

  • Creating joy every day. Whether it’s a quiet moment with a cup of chamomile tea or an evening playing ladder ball in the basement with my kids, I make space for joy.

Why Balance Matters

If you’re an SLP or educator feeling the weight of burnout, take a step back. This isn’t about abandoning your responsibilities or neglecting your career, it’s about living a life that sustains you, not drains you. You can’t show up to help your students or clients if you haven’t helped yourself first.

Research shows that chronic stress not only affects your mental health but also your ability to provide quality care (ASHA). By prioritizing yourself, you’re investing in your well-being and showing up better for your clients, students, and loved ones.

Choosing Joy Over Perfection

Life is happening now. If you’re waiting for “someday,” it’s time to shift your focus to today. Your health, your joy, and your relationships matter now.

Balance doesn’t mean having it all together. It means letting go of what doesn’t align with your values. For me, that’s prioritizing my family, my health, and my happiness. My life might not look perfect from the outside, but it feels right for me.

So, if you’re tired of burning the candle at both ends, take a deep breath and reflect on what truly matters. Your life is yours to live—not someday, but right now.

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