What burnout looked like from the inside — and how I found my way back.

In my last post, we talked about listening to burnout — not as a personal failure, but as a messenger.

But what happens when you’ve ignored the message for so long, your whole life starts speaking in sirens?

Today I want to share three stories I’ve never forgotten. They’re pulled straight from The Phoenix Blueprint, because they were part of the fire that shaped it.

These are not proud moments. But they’re real.
And if any part of you has ever thought “I can’t keep living like this,” I want you to know

You’re not alone.

You’re not broken.

And there is a way through.

1. The Time I Secretly Hoped for Cancer

There was a stretch of time, mid-burnout, where I found myself fantasizing — not about a beach vacation, but about getting a diagnosis that would force me to stop.

Cancer, I thought. Something serious, but survivable. Something that would make it socially acceptable to rest.

It sounds unthinkable. But if you’ve ever been that tired you probably understand.

I didn’t want to die. I just didn’t want to keep living like that.
That’s the quiet desperation so many of us carry, especially in healthcare. We want out, but we don’t know how. So we imagine catastrophe, because permission for rest seems otherwise impossible.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. You can choose healing without hitting rock bottom. You can rewrite the story.

2. The Time I Managed Hospice Care… from a Roller Coaster

Yes, an actual roller coaster.

I was at Disney World with my family, supposedly taking a week off to make magical memories with my kids. But when the call came that one of my patient’s was having an end-of-life crisis, I broke out of this magical family time to manage a patient 2,000 miles away. One med change occurred just as we were loading up for Space Mountain. “Yes increase morphine by 50%, got to go I’m launching into space” It’s really absurd when you think about it.

But that’s what burnout looks like when you’re a “high performer.” You keep functioning. You keep saying yes. You keep working on your days off because who else will?

But while I was showing up for everyone else, I was disappearing from my own life.
I was there in body, not in spirit. My daughter remembers the rides, the princesses, and the Mickey bars. I remember my blood pressure.

Sometimes the wake-up call doesn’t come from collapse. It comes from moments like this — when you realize you’re physically present in joy but mentally absent from your own life.

3. The Time I Cried Under My Desk for Six Hours

After a tense team meeting, I crawled under my desk and wept.
Not for a minute. Not for ten. For six hours.

I knew I wasn’t okay. But I also didn’t know what else to do.
I didn’t trust the system to support me. I didn’t trust myself to leave.
So I hid — from my job, from my team, from my own pain.

And when I finally emerged, I didn’t have a plan.
But I had a truth I couldn’t un-know: Something had to change.

What I Know Now

Burnout isn’t always dramatic. Sometimes it’s quiet, clever, and chronic.
It wears a smile. It finishes charts. It still gets praised.

But it slowly pulls you away from your own life.

These days?
I cry less. I rest more.
I’m fully present for my family and my calling.
And I get to help other healthcare workers remember that they matter, too.

That’s what we do at Recharge Studio — help you move from barely hanging on to deeply, vibrantly alive.

We lead with love. We honor the mess. And we believe healing is not just possible — it’s your birthright.

If any part of you is whispering “me too,” — stay close.
You’re not alone. You’re just ready for something new.

With you in it,
Emma

🧡