There is a kind of tiredness that sleep cannot fix.
It is the tiredness of constantly performing worth.
Of being useful, efficient, optimized, professional.
Of pushing through when your body says stop.
Of showing up when you have nothing left to give—because rest is seen as weakness, and slowing down feels like falling behind.
This is not just burnout.
This is burnout by design.
And we need to name what is causing it: capitalism.
Capitalism Trains Us to Ignore Ourselves
From the moment we enter school systems, we are taught to measure our value by what we produce. Grades. Tasks. Output. Speed. Discipline. “Success.” These are rewarded. Pausing is punished. Stillness is suspicious.
As we grow older, this conditioning intensifies:
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Work becomes identity.
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Hustle becomes culture.
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Exhaustion becomes a badge of honor.
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Rest becomes something you must earn.
And beneath it all, this question hums constantly, sometimes loudly, sometimes in the background:
“Am I doing enough?”
“Am I allowed to stop?”
“If I am not productive, do I matter?”
This is not natural.
This is not wellness.
This is capitalism in the nervous system.
Burnout Is Not a Personal Failure
The modern conversation around burnout often centers personal responsibility.
We are told to manage our time better. Set boundaries. Journal. Drink more water. Practice mindfulness.
These are helpful practices. But they are not solutions.
Because burnout is not just about what you are doing—it is about what the system demands from you. Over and over. Without pause.
You are not burnt out because you are disorganized.
You are not exhausted because you are broken.
You are tired because you are living in a system that depends on your exhaustion.
Capitalism requires your constant output, but offers you little rest in return.
It praises overwork. It hides the cost.
It tells you to rest, but penalizes you when you actually do.
Burnout Has Layers—Especially for the Marginalized
For people who live at the intersections of race, gender, class, disability, queerness, and chronic illness—burnout is not just physical or emotional. It is political. It is structural. It is generational.
Because the pressure to “prove yourself” is heavier when the system already assumes you are lazy, emotional, unqualified, or disposable.
So you work harder. Smile longer. Swallow rage. Numb grief. Stretch your boundaries until they break.
And when you finally collapse, they call it weakness.
They call it personal.
They call it yours.
But this is not just your pain. It is a pattern.
Rest Is Not a Luxury. It Is a Right.
Capitalism tells you that your value lies in your output.
Healing says your value lies in your existence.
Rest is not a break from the system. It is resistance to it.
To choose rest—especially when the world says you do not deserve it—is a radical act.
To unplug, to slow down, to disengage from constant production is to say:
“I am not a machine.”
And you are not.
You are allowed to stop.
You are allowed to breathe.
You are allowed to want a life that does not revolve around burnout cycles.
Poem: “Not Built for This”
I was not built
to work until breaking
to grind until empty
to smile while unraveling.
I was not made
for endless output
for hunger called ambition
for burnout dressed as bravery.
I was made
to rest
to feel
to live.
What Would It Look Like to Opt Out of the Burnout Script?
What stories have I internalized about productivity and self-worth?
What does my body feel like when I push past my limits?
What would it mean to be gentle with myself—without guilt?
What part of me still believes I have to earn rest? Who taught me that?
This is where the unlearning begins.
You Are Not Lazy. You Are Tired of Being Dehumanized.
There is nothing wrong with you.
There is something very wrong with a system that asks you to prove your worth through suffering.
Burnout is not a personal flaw.
It is a predictable response to a world that forgets we are human.
And no—it is not your job to fix capitalism.
But you can choose to reclaim parts of yourself that the system tried to take.
Your joy.
Your peace.
Your rest.
Your wholeness.
That is a revolution in itself.
