From Burnout to Breath: How I Reclaimed My Mental Space (And Found Joy in Small Things Again)

It’s 3:17 a.m., and I’m staring at the ceiling of my studio apartment, my laptop still glowing with half-finished work emails. My chest feels tight, my mind races with “what-ifs,” and I’re replaying yesterday’s meeting like a broken record—Did I sound unprepared? Did I miss that deadline? What if they realize I’m not good enough?

This wasn’t the life I imagined when I moved to New York City five years ago, chasing “hustle culture” like it was a prize. Back then, I wore exhaustion like a badge of honor: 14-hour workdays, skipped meals, and weekend plans that involved scrolling through LinkedIn to “network.” But somewhere along the way, the “hustle” stopped feeling like progress. It started feeling like… erosion. My relationships frayed, my sleep became a luxury, and even small joys—like sipping coffee or listening to music—felt impossible to hold onto.

If you’ve been there, you know the weight of it. The world tells us to “do more, be more, achieve more,” but rarely pauses to ask, “What are you giving up to do all that?” For me, that question finally hit like a ton of bricks during a panic attack in the subway. I crumpled onto a bench, gasping for air, and thought, “I can’t keep living like this.”

The Unlearning: Redefining “Self-Care” (Hint: It’s Not Just Face Masks)

After that day, I decided to hit pause. No more “quick fixes” or “productivity hacks.” I needed to relearn what it meant to care for myself—not as a machine to optimize, but as a human being who needed to breathe.

Here’s what that journey looked like, in real time:

1. Starting with the Body: Small Movements, Big Shifts

I used to laugh at yoga studios (“$30 for downward dog? Please.”), but desperation made me try a 20-minute YouTube session one morning. To my surprise, moving my body—even in the most gentle way—felt like unlocking a cage. My shoulders, which had been locked in a permanent “stress hunch,” softened. My breath, which had been shallow and rapid, slowed.

Now, I keep a Yoga with Adriene subscription ($18/month) on my phone. Her “30 Days of Gratitude” series became my lifeline; even on days when I could only spare 10 minutes, rolling out my mat felt like a promise to myself: “You matter.”

(P.S. If you’re new to movement, start with her free “Sun Salutation” video—it’s low-pressure and feels almost meditative.)

2. The Power of “Unplugging” (Yes, Even from Your Own Thoughts)

I used to pride myself on being “always on.” Checking Slack at 11 p.m.? Normal. Scrolling Instagram to “wind down”? Essential. But research (and my own exhaustion) taught me that constant stimulation fries the brain. So I experimented with a “digital sunset”: 90 minutes before bed, I shut down all screens.

At first, the silence was terrifying. My mind raced louder than ever. Then I discovered Calm ($70/year), an app that blends guided meditations with ambient sounds. My favorite? The “Sleep Stories” narrated by Matthew McConaughey—they’re like being rocked to sleep by a warm, gravelly voice. Now, I fall asleep in 20 minutes instead of 2 hours, and wake up feeling… human.

(Pro tip: Use the “Daily Calm” feature—it’s a 10-minute meditation tailored to your mood. On days when I feel scattered, I pick “Busy Mind,” and it’s like someone gently says, “Slow down. You’re okay.”)

3. Reclaiming Joy Through the Mundane

One of the biggest lessons I learned? Self-care isn’t about grand gestures. It’s about the small things that make life feel alive again.

I started keeping a Leuchtturm1917 bullet journal ($35 on Amazon). Not for to-do lists, but for joy tracking. Each night, I jot down 3 tiny moments that made me smile: the barista who remembered my order, the way sunlight hit my windowsill, or a line from a book that felt like it was written just for me. Re-reading those entries on hard days reminds me that beauty still exists—even when I’m too stressed to see it.

I also swapped my generic apartment candles for Jo Malone London’s “English Pear & Freesia” ($78). The scent is subtle but distinct—like biting into a ripe pear on a crisp autumn morning. Now, lighting it feels like a ritual: “This is my time. This is my space.”

The Result? I’m Still a Work in Progress (And That’s Okay)

Am I “cured” of burnout? Absolutely not. Some days, the anxiety still creeps in. But now, instead of spiraling, I have tools to meet it. I take a 5-minute walk outside. I scribble in my journal. I light that candle and close my eyes for 3 deep breaths.

The biggest shift? I stopped seeing self-care as a “chore” and started seeing it as an act of rebellion. In a world that demands we be infinitely productive, choosing to rest—even for an hour—is a radical act of love for myself.

If you’re reading this and thinking, “I could use a little more of that,” let me leave you with this: Start small. You don’t need a 100 meditation cushion or a week-long retreat. Begin with 5 minutes of stretching. Download a free meditation app. Buy a 5 candle that smells like sunshine.

Your mental health isn’t a project to “fix”—it’s a garden to tend to, one gentle step at a time.

And hey—if you try any of these tools, let me know how it goes in the comments. Maybe we can swap favorite yoga flows or candle scents. After all, we’re all in this together.

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P.S. Links to the products I mentioned are below—they’re affiliate links, but I only share things I genuinely use and love. No pressure, just a little nudge if you’re curious!

• https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLfL7OWGgj3H9V9UzQ8kKXq3W7v3v3v3v3 (free!)

• https://www.calm.com/

• https://www.amazon.com/Leuchtturm1917-Bullet-Journal-Dotted/dp/B01N4RLJ36

• https://www.jomalone.com/us/en/p/eng-pear-freesia