I recently attended a workshop on stress and professional burnout, which helped me connect a few more dots. Connecting the dots has been my most important activity over the past year—a year in therapy. I came across this process last June, when it became clear that I wasn’t going to piece these puzzles together on my own. Even then, I had already gone through two intensive years of what I can confidently call self-therapy—a time of searching and discovery, of examining my emotions, habits, and attitudes, and analyzing my interactions with the world and my place in it. It was a very important time, a prelude to what was to come. The conclusions I reached back then were important and difficult, and the magnitude and multiplicity of the issues completely overwhelmed me, crystallizing into a sudden crisis. It felt like all the unsettled and most difficult issues—absolutely fundamental ones—had been quietly accumulating, only to hit me all at once and with full force. Depression and burnout. The decision to start therapy was the only right and necessary one, because the crisis I was experiencing ran very deep.

At the workshop, I learned that professional burnout is not only rooted in one’s work—individual characteristics also play a key role. In my case, I think they had a significant, if not decisive, impact on my situation.

Why am I writing about this?

First, for myself. Writing has become an intrinsic way of bringing thoughts to life, putting them in order, and gaining perspective. It forces me to confront them, to stand in the truth—and, as a result, to find peace. It is very different from the frantic reel of stripped-down, chaotic sentences that loop endlessly in the mind.

And second—for you. For the freelancer, the person building a business on art, craft, the creation of thoughts and ideas—made real, either in a physical space or online.

The topic of burnout has piqued my interest. I am my own laboratory, and I wouldn’t be myself if I didn’t want to make something concrete out of it. Freelancers, creators, artists often have a deeply personal relationship with their work and its outcome. Embedding this work within the framework of productivity and profit creates an explosive mix—one that, in my opinion, makes us especially vulnerable to burnout.

So I’m writing a series of articles that I’ll be publishing on my blog—about emotions, the body, relationships, rest, and how the outside world affects us, often in ways that push us closer to burnout. I’ll begin with the very unhealthy “three-in-one” model, which I used to represent.

Naturally, the texts will be based on my own experiences—subjective, personal reflections. I also want them to serve as a kind of summary for myself, so that I can move forward.

If your professional life is rooted in passion, art-making, and creation, I believe these topics may resonate with you and bring something meaningful to your everyday life.

Where am I now?

The deeply hidden has been uncovered, named, and pieced together. And paradoxically, I feel that this phase—although very difficult—was easier than the one that followed.

I am between the old, to which there is no return, and the new, whose direction remains unknown. It’s the space in between. The previous structures lie in ruins; a new one must be built. I don’t know what will emerge from this, although I’m already standing in an open doorway, having taken a step beyond the threshold.

Translating this philosophical reflection into professional reality: I’m trying to fundamentally rebuild the model I’ve been in for years—a model that no longer provides the sense of security and fulfillment I need. Maybe I’ll shut down my business, go somewhere else, and do something completely different. Or maybe I’ll find some mix of both.

I don’t know yet. Or rather: I don’t know what will emerge from the many small actions I’ve begun to take.

Because I’ve stayed in motion all this time—even though I would have much preferred to be on “health-related annual leave,” with a monthly salary showing up in my bank account. I kept going despite chronic fatigue, discouragement, feelings of ineffectiveness, and the painful awareness that I’m in a very different place than I once imagined I’d be.

At the end of last year, I marked the 18th anniversary of my one-person business. I wasn’t in a place to celebrate. At the time, all I could see were the costs I’d been paying. The series of texts I wrote to commemorate the milestone were intended to mark the occasion, but they weren’t a celebration of achievement. I wrote them with great effort, struggling with the disconnect between what I was feeling (and not yet able to name) and what I eventually managed to express in words.

I am soaking in acceptance of this moment.

I’m opening myself up to inevitable change.

I’m stepping out of the in-between space.

I’ve grown fond of not knowing.

And there is curiosity in me—perhaps even stronger than fear.

P.S. – The texts in this series will appear on my blog, under the category “burnout in freelancing”. I know it’s a common experience—so if you feel like sharing yours, feel free to do so, whether in the comments here, or a private note.

May 2025