20 Unconventional and Often Undetected Burnout Symptoms

What You’re About to Read (And Why You Should)

Right now, you’re probably reading this between meetings, or whilst pretending to listen to someone drone on about Q4 targets, or perhaps at 23H55 when you’ve finally closed your laptop but can’t quite shut down your mind. You’re successful. You’re driven. You’re absolutely knackered, though you’d never admit it.

This article explores the sneaky, often invisible symptoms of burnout that high-achievers miss until they’re face-down in their third espresso of the morning, wondering why they just snapped at their partner about the “wrong” type of milk. We’re not talking about the obvious signs—exhaustion, cynicism, reduced performance—but the peculiar, unexpected ones that creep up like uninvited guests at a dinner party.

If you’re an executive, entrepreneur, or professional who prides themselves on “handling it all,” this is your wake-up call. Or rather, your permission slip to finally acknowledge you might need one.

Five Key Takeaways for the Perpetually Productive

1. Burnout disguises itself brilliantly – Your brain interprets symptoms as character flaws rather than distress signals, so you push harder instead of pausing.
2. High-achievers are expert symptom-maskers – Your very skills that made you successful (resilience, determination, problem-solving) become the camouflage that hides your burnout.
3. Physical symptoms often appear first – Your body sounds the alarm long before your mind admits something’s wrong, manifesting in peculiar ways you’d never connect to stress.
4. Recognising unconventional symptoms is a superpower – Early detection means early intervention, potentially saving your health, relationships, and the work you’ve built.
5. Burnout recovery isn’t weakness; it’s strategic recalibration – Understanding these symptoms is the first step toward sustainable success rather than spectacular collapse.

Introduction: The Invisible Epidemic

Here’s what nobody tells you about burnout: it’s a master of disguise.

Whilst you’re busy being brilliant—closing deals, leading teams, revolutionising industries, keeping dozens of plates spinning whilst simultaneously planning Tuesday’s board meeting and remembering your mother-in-law’s birthday—burnout is quietly redecorating your internal landscape. It doesn’t announce itself with a brass band and a banner reading “You’re Burnt Out!” Instead, it hints. It leaves cryptic clues you’ll likely attribute to ageing, poor sleep, or that dodgy prawn sandwich from the airport.

I’m Dr Margaretha Montagu—MBChB, MRCGP, NLP Master Practitioner, Medical Hypnotherapist, Storyteller Life Coach—and in my twenty years as a doctor with a special interest in stress management, I’ve witnessed countless intelligent, capable people completely miss their burnout symptoms. For fifteen years, I’ve hosted stress management retreats on the Camino de Santiago, and I’ve observed a fascinating pattern: the most successful people are often the last to recognise they’re struggling.

Why? Because the very traits that propelled you to success—your ability to push through discomfort, your talent for problem-solving under pressure, your unwavering commitment to excellence—become the very mechanisms that blind you to burnout’s approach.

Professionals miss these symptoms because they’re inconvenient, inexplicable, and frankly, embarrassing. You’re not the sort of person who “can’t handle” stress. You’ve built an empire on your capacity to manage chaos. Admitting to burnout symptoms feels like admitting defeat, so you rationalise them away. That persistent rash? Probably an allergy. The sudden aversion to foods you once loved? Maybe your taste buds are maturing. The inexplicable urge to cry during an insurance advert? Just hormones. PMT. Tuesday.

But here’s the truth, drawn from my experience with over forty guests whose testimonials grace my website, eight non-fiction books exploring divorce, loss, unexpected illness, and coping with crises, and countless storytelling circles: recognising these unconventional symptoms isn’t admitting weakness. It’s demonstrating the wisdom to listen when your body and mind are trying to tell you something crucial.

The Curious Case of Geoff Bradley

Geoff Bradley first noticed something was wrong on a Tuesday.

Not because Tuesdays held any particular significance in his carefully orchestrated life, but because he found himself standing in the Marks & Spencer food hall at 7:47 AM, holding a packet of Percy Pigs, crying.

Not elegant, single-tear crying. Proper, shoulder-shaking, mortifying crying in front of the gummy sweets whilst a woman with a shopping basket edged nervously past him towards the hummus.

Geoff was a management consultant. Forty-three years old. Three children. Beautiful home in Surrey. Partnership on the horizon. He ran half-marathons. He did Dry January. He was, by every observable metric, absolutely fine.

Except he wasn’t.

The Percy Pig incident wasn’t the beginning, though it felt like it. Looking back, Geoff would realise the warning signs had been accumulating like unpaid parking tickets stuffed in a glove compartment—ignored until the bailiff arrives.

Three months earlier, he’d developed an odd twitch in his left eyelid. Not constant, just a persistent flutter that appeared during client presentations, making him feel like he was winking inappropriately at the CFO of a pharmaceutical company. He’d blamed screen time, booked an eye test, and bought blue-light-blocking glasses that made him look like a pretentious jazz musician.

The eyelid kept twitching.

Then came the dreams. Not nightmares exactly, but peculiar, vivid scenarios where he’d arrive at important meetings completely unprepared—naked, or speaking gibberish, or discovering he’d somehow enrolled in a university course he’d never attended and the final exam was starting. He’d wake at 4 AM, heart hammering against his ribs like it was trying to escape, the smell of his own fear-sweat sharp and acrid in the darkness. His wife, Sarah, would mumble something comforting and roll over. Geoff would lie there, staring at the ceiling, counting his breaths until the alarm released him at 6.

The taste of coffee changed. His beloved morning ritual—that first scalding sip of the Guatemalan single-origin he ordered monthly—suddenly tasted metallic, wrong, like licking a battery. He switched brands. Then tried decaf. Then gave up entirely, which sent Sarah into a minor panic because Geoff without coffee was like Christmas without turkey: theoretically possible but deeply unsettling.

He started snapping. Sharp, brittle responses to innocuous questions. When his twelve-year-old daughter asked if he’d be home for dinner, he’d bitten her head off about “constant demands” and “not being able to predict the future.” The wounded look in her eyes had made him feel like he’d kicked a puppy. He’d apologised, blamed work stress, promised to do better.

But the snapping continued.

His body felt foreign. Heavy. Like he was operating a meat-suit that didn’t quite fit. His shoulders had crept up somewhere near his ears and refused to descend despite yoga, massage, and Sarah’s increasingly concerned suggestions that he “just relax.” His jaw ached from clenching. He’d chewed through two night guards in as many months.

The worst part? The indecision.

Geoff had built his career on decisive action. He could walk into a boardroom, assess seventeen different variables, and make a call that would affect thousands of employees within minutes. But suddenly, choosing between the chicken or salmon at a restaurant required genuine mental effort. He’d stare at menus whilst waiters shifted impatiently, paralysed by the weight of this insignificant choice. Sarah had started ordering for him.

Things he’d once loved—the Sunday morning run, the monthly book club, playing guitar badly in the garage—felt like obligations. Items on an endless to-do list that stretched beyond the horizon. He’d catch himself standing in the shower, the hot water drumming against his skull, thinking about absolutely nothing. Not meditating. Not relaxing. Just… vacant. An empty shop with the lights on but nobody home.

Which brought him to Percy Pigs.

It was his daughter’s birthday next week. He’d remembered, miraculously, and stopped to grab her favourite sweets. A small gesture. Easy. Except as he stood there, holding that cheerful pink packet, something inside him simply… broke.

The tears came from nowhere, hot and unstoppable. He felt the accumulated weight of three months—no, truthfully, closer to eighteen months—of pushing through, of telling himself he was fine, of one more late night, one more difficult client, one more weekend working whilst his family went to the cinema without him.

A shop assistant approached hesitantly. “Sir? Are you alright?”

Geoff looked at her—she couldn’t have been more than twenty, with kind eyes and a name badge that read “Priya”—and heard himself say, “I don’t think I am, actually.”

It was the first honest thing he’d said in months.

That evening, after the embarrassment had faded and he’d made it home with the Percy Pigs (and, oddly, a sense of relief), Sarah had suggested something radical: “Maybe you should talk to someone.”

“Like a therapist?” Geoff had bristled.

“Like someone who understands this stuff. Properly.”

Three weeks later, Geoff found himself in one of my storytelling circles during a stress management retreat, walking the Camino de Santiago through the golden countryside of south-west France. He sat on a wooden bench beside the paddock where my Friesian horses—Kash, Twiss, and Zorie—grazed peacefully alongside the smaller Falabellas, Loki and Lito. The autumn sun was warm on his face. The air smelled of grass and horse and possibility.

“Tell your story,” I’d invited the group. “Not the version where you’re fine. The real one.”

And Geoff did. He talked about Percy Pigs and twitching eyelids and the peculiar loneliness of lying awake at 4 AM. He talked about the shame of not recognising what was happening to him until he was crying in a supermarket.

The other participants—a CEO from Manchester, a surgeon from Edinburgh, a tech entrepreneur from London—nodded. They knew. They’d all missed their own symptoms too, attributing them to everything except what they actually were: burnout symptoms waving increasingly frantic flags.

In the storytelling circle, Geoff’s story wasn’t a confession. It was a map. And for the first time in eighteen months, he didn’t feel lost.

The Twenty Unconventional Burnout Symptoms: Understanding the Hidden Signs

Burnout symptoms typically conjure images of exhaustion and cynicism—the obvious markers we’ve been trained to recognise. But after two decades of clinical practice and fifteen years hosting Camino de Santiago walking retreats, I’ve identified twenty unconventional burnout symptoms that successful professionals consistently overlook. These are the sneaky indicators that something’s seriously amiss, though you’ll likely attribute them to anything but burnout.

Physical Symptoms: When Your Body Whispers (Then Shouts)

1. Unexplained Physical Pain That Migrates

Your shoulder aches. Then your lower back. Then mysteriously, your hip. You visit physiotherapists, try different pillows, blame your chair. The pain moves because it’s not structural—it’s your body’s way of saying “STOP” in increasingly loud volumes.

2. Changes in Taste and Smell

Coffee tastes wrong. Foods you’ve loved for decades suddenly repulse you. This isn’t COVID; it’s your nervous system in overdrive, affecting sensory processing. When you’re chronically stressed, your body deprioritises “non-essential” functions—like enjoying your breakfast.

3. Persistent Low-Grade Illness

You’re not properly ill, but you’re never quite well. A constant slight sore throat, perpetual sniffles, that cough that won’t shift. Chronic stress suppresses immune function, leaving you vulnerable to every virus within a five-mile radius.

4. Unusual Skin Reactions

Rashes appear. Eczema flares. Your skin—the body’s largest organ and a direct reflection of internal stress—literally tries to shed the anxiety you’re carrying.

5. Digestive Chaos

Your gut is your “second brain,” and when burnout strikes, it protests loudly. IBS symptoms, nausea, appetite changes, or that constant slightly-sick feeling aren’t just digestive issues—they’re distress signals.

Cognitive Symptoms: When Your Brilliant Mind Betrays You

6. Decision Paralysis Over Trivial Matters

You can negotiate million-pound contracts but can’t choose which socks to wear. This isn’t indecisiveness; it’s decision fatigue. Your prefrontal cortex is exhausted from the constant high-stakes choices at work.

7. Loss of Procedural Memory

You forget how to do things you’ve done thousands of times. The route home. Your computer password. How to make toast. These aren’t senior moments—they’re signs your brain is running on emergency power mode.

8. Time Distortion

Mornings feel like afternoons. You can’t remember if something happened yesterday or last week. Burnout disrupts your internal clock and memory consolidation, creating an unsettling temporal fog.

9. Inability to Concentrate on Previously Enjoyed Activities

You pick up that novel you’ve been excited about and read the same paragraph four times without absorbing a word. Your brain, overloaded with stress, can’t switch off enough to engage with anything non-essential.

10. Obsessive Thought Loops

The same worry circles endlessly. You replay conversations, anticipate disasters, or mentally compose emails at 2 AM. It’s like having a browser with seventy-three tabs open—everything’s slow and nothing quite works.

Emotional Symptoms: The Feelings You’re Not Supposed to Have

11. Crying at Unexpected Triggers

Insurance adverts. A kind word from a stranger. Percy Pigs. These disproportionate emotional responses occur because you’ve been suppressing feelings for so long that even minor stimuli breach the dam.

12. Sudden Rage Over Minor Inconveniences

Someone chews too loudly and you want to flip the table. The milk’s finished and you experience genuine fury. This isn’t about the milk—it’s accumulated stress finding the nearest available exit.

13. Emotional Numbness

Alternatively, you feel nothing. Your child wins an award. Your team closes a huge deal. You know you should feel something, but there’s just… static. Emotional numbness is your psyche’s circuit breaker, preventing complete overwhelm.

14. Inappropriate Emotional Responses

You laugh at serious moments or feel oddly detached during crises. Your emotional regulation system has gone haywire, producing responses that don’t match the situation.

15. Loss of Empathy

You find yourself irritated by others’ problems. Your team member’s struggling and instead of compassion, you feel annoyance. This isn’t you becoming a terrible person—it’s compassion fatigue, a recognised burnout symptom.

Behavioural Symptoms: The Things You Start (or Stop) Doing

16. Withdrawal from Social Connections

You cancel plans. Avoid phone calls. The thought of small talk feels insurmountable. When burnout strikes, social interaction requires energy you simply don’t have, even if you’re naturally extroverted.

17. Loss of Interest in Hobbies

Guitar gathering dust. Running shoes unused. The creative pursuits or physical activities that once energised you now feel like burdens. This anhedonia—inability to experience pleasure—is a classic burnout symptom often mistaken for depression.

18. Increased Reliance on Coping Mechanisms

An extra glass of wine becomes three. Online shopping sprees. Binge-watching entire series in one sitting. These aren’t moral failings—they’re attempts to self-soothe when proper stress management has become impossible.

19. Compulsive Productivity (The Paradox)

Counterintuitively, some people respond to burnout by working more. If you can’t sleep, you might as well answer emails, right? This desperate productivity is your brain trying to regain control whilst actually accelerating the burnout.

20. Neglect of Basic Self-Care

Showering feels effortful. You wear the same clothes repeatedly because choosing is exhausting. Teeth-brushing becomes optional. When you’re burnt out, even fundamental self-maintenance can feel overwhelming.

The Ripple Effect: How Your Burnout Affects the World

Here’s what successful people often fail to recognise: your burnout doesn’t exist in isolation. It ripples outward, affecting your family, your team, your organisation, and your broader community in ways both obvious and subtle.

The Professional Impact

When you’re experiencing burnout symptoms, your decision-making quality diminishes. Research shows that chronically stressed executives make more risk-averse choices, miss creative solutions, and struggle with long-term strategic thinking. You might maintain the appearance of competence whilst your actual cognitive performance has declined significantly. Your team notices—even if they don’t say anything. They observe the irritability, the inconsistency, the withdrawal. Leadership burnout creates anxiety that cascades through entire organisations.

The Family Toll

Your partner becomes your emotional shock absorber. Your children learn that work always comes first, that exhaustion is normal, that pushing through is virtue. You’re modelling burnout as a lifestyle choice, potentially programming the next generation to repeat your patterns. The dinner conversations you miss, the school plays you’re too tired to attend, the weekends spent recovering rather than connecting—these aren’t just moments; they’re the fabric of family life you’re gradually unravelling.

The Health Consequences

Untreated burnout doesn’t just go away. It evolves. Chronic stress increases your risk of cardiovascular disease, autoimmune conditions, digestive disorders, and mental health crises. In my twenty years of medical practice, I’ve watched brilliant people’s health deteriorate dramatically because they mistook warning signs for weakness. That’s not sustainable success—it’s a slow-motion health crisis.

The Economic Cost

Burnout costs the global economy hundreds of billions annually in healthcare expenses, absenteeism, and reduced productivity. But more personally, it costs you. The partnership you might miss because you’re too exhausted to perform optimally. The business opportunity you can’t pursue because decision paralysis has you frozen. The creative innovations that die unborn because your brain is too overwhelmed to imagine anything beyond survival.

The Beginning of Something Beautiful

Yet here’s what I’ve witnessed repeatedly in my storytelling circles and Camino walking retreats: recognising these unconventional burnout symptoms can be transformative—not just for you, but for everyone connected to you.

When Geoff Bradley identified his symptoms, he didn’t just recover; he revolutionised his approach to work. He implemented boundaries his team actually respected because he modelled them consistently. He became more productive in fewer hours because he stopped confusing busy-ness with effectiveness. His children got their father back—not the exhausted shell who existed in their home, but the engaged, present parent they’d been missing.

More remarkably, Geoff became an advocate within his organisation for sustainable work practices. He shared his Percy Pig story (much to his initial mortification) at a leadership meeting, and the subsequent conversation revealed that half the senior team was struggling with similar symptoms they’d been hiding. The company implemented changes—mandatory disconnect time, mental health resources, workload audits—that improved retention, satisfaction, and actual business outcomes.

This is the paradox: confronting your burnout symptoms often makes you more effective, not less. You develop genuine resilience rather than brittle stoicism. You make better decisions because you’re not operating in crisis mode. You inspire loyalty because you’re authentically human rather than performing invulnerability.

Recognition is revolution. Not the dramatic, overnight kind, but the sustainable, meaningful kind that actually lasts.

Three Powerful Writing Prompts for Self-Exploration

Writing is one of the most effective tools for understanding your internal landscape. I’ve used these prompts in my storytelling circles with remarkable results. I suggest setting aside twenty minutes of uninterrupted time, making yourself comfortable, and writing without editing or judgment.

Prompt 1: The Unsent Letter

Write a letter to yourself from five years in the future. In this letter, your future self explains how recognising your burnout symptoms changed the trajectory of your life. What did you do differently? What did you stop doing? What became possible once you acknowledged what was happening? Be specific and compassionate—your future self isn’t angry with present-you for struggling; they’re grateful you finally listened.

Prompt 2: The Honest Inventory

Complete this sentence in as many ways as feel true: “Something I’ve been pretending not to notice is…” Don’t censor yourself. Include the trivial and the significant. The physical symptoms, the emotional responses, the behavioural changes. Sometimes seeing the accumulated list makes patterns visible that individual symptoms obscure.

Prompt 3: The Alternative Story

Describe a typical day in your life, but written from the perspective of someone who loves you—your partner, your child, your best friend. What do they notice that you don’t? How do they interpret your behaviour? This perspective shift can reveal how your burnout symptoms are affecting others and how visible they actually are to people who know you well.

Further Reading: Five Unconventional Books

These aren’t your typical self-help books about burnout. They’re thoughtful, research-backed explorations that approach the subject from unexpected angles.

1. “Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals” by Oliver Burkeman

I chose this because it addresses the root cause of so much professional burnout: our delusional belief that we can “optimise” our way to doing everything. Burkeman’s gentle, philosophical approach helps readers accept finitude rather than fighting it—a crucial perspective shift for recovering from burnout.

2. “The Body Keeps the Score” by Bessel van der Kolk

This landmark trauma text belongs on any burnout reading list because it explains precisely why unconventional physical symptoms emerge during chronic stress. Van der Kolk’s research illuminates how our bodies store stress and why ignoring physical symptoms never actually works.

3. “Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle” by Emily and Amelia Nagoski

The Nagoski sisters explain the crucial distinction between stressors (the things that cause stress) and stress (the physiological response). This book is especially valuable for understanding why “dealing with” the problem isn’t the same as actually processing the stress response—and why so many conventional approaches fail.

4. “Lost Connections: Uncovering the Real Causes of Depression – and the Unexpected Solutions” by Johann Hari

Hari’s investigation into depression reveals insights directly applicable to burnout, particularly around disconnection—from meaningful work, from other people, from values, from nature. His research helps explain why burnout isn’t just individual pathology but often a reasonable response to unreasonable circumstances.

5. “Rest: Why You Get More Done When You Work Less” by Alex Soojung-Kim Pang

This book challenges the productivity culture that creates burnout in the first place. Pang’s research into deliberate rest and recovery offers practical strategies whilst validating what burnt-out professionals need to hear: rest isn’t laziness; it’s a strategic necessity.

P.S. My own book, Embracing Change – in 10 Minutes a Day, which offers bite-sized, practical strategies for managing life’s transitions—including the transition from burnout to recovery. It’s specifically designed for busy professionals who insist they don’t have time for self-care (spoiler: you don’t have time not to).

Voices from the Journey: Guest Testimonials

Sarah M., Marketing Director, London

“I arrived at Margaretha’s Camino retreat convinced I was just tired. Tired! As if eighteen months of chronic stress was merely a sleep deficit. Within two days of walking, of slowing down enough to actually think, I realised I’d been experiencing at least twelve of these unconventional symptoms—the decision paralysis, the rage, the peculiar numbness. I’d been crying in my car before work most mornings, which I’d somehow normalised. The storytelling circles gave me permission to name what was happening without performing competence. Margaretha’s combination of medical expertise and genuine compassion created a space where I could finally admit: I’m not fine, and that’s okay. The Camino literally and metaphorically gave me a path forward. Two years later, I’m still walking—literally and figuratively—and those symptoms? Gone. Because I finally learned to recognise them as signals rather than character flaws.”

James P., Tech Entrepreneur, Bristol

“I’ve never been much for ‘sharing feelings,’ but Margaretha’s storytelling circles were different. Perhaps it was the setting—sitting outdoors with those magnificent horses nearby, something about their calm presence made vulnerability feel less terrifying. I heard my own story in others’ experiences—that same withdrawal, that loss of interest in things that once brought joy, that creeping sense of becoming someone I didn’t recognise. One participant talked about crying over Percy Pigs, and I suddenly remembered sobbing over a podcast about penguins the previous month, which I’d shoved into the ‘weird, let’s never mention it’ category of my brain. The circle helped me recognise that these weren’t isolated peculiarities but connected symptoms of something bigger. Being witnessed without judgment, in a group of fellow high-achievers who’d also missed the signs, was transformative. I learned that recognising burnout symptoms isn’t admitting defeat—it’s demonstrating wisdom.”

FAQs: Your Questions Answered

Q: I’m successful and high-functioning. Can I really be burnt out?

Absolutely. In fact, high-functioning professionals are often the most burnt out because you’ve developed sophisticated compensatory mechanisms. You’re brilliant at pushing through, at maintaining appearances, at delivering despite being depleted. Burnout doesn’t discriminate based on competence—it actually targets it. Your very ability to keep performing whilst burning out delays recognition and intervention, often leading to more severe symptoms.

Q: Aren’t some of these symptoms just normal stress or ageing?

Context matters. Occasional decision fatigue after a demanding week? Normal. Sustained inability to make trivial decisions despite adequate rest? Potential burnout symptom. The key is pattern, persistence, and accumulation. If you’re experiencing multiple unconventional symptoms simultaneously, lasting weeks or months, dismissing them as “normal” is precisely the cognitive bias that perpetuates burnout.

Q: What’s the difference between burnout and depression?

There’s significant overlap, and they can coexist, but burnout typically has a clear connection to work or caregiving stress, whilst depression can emerge without external stressors. Burnout symptoms often improve with genuine rest and removal from stressors; depression typically requires more intensive intervention. That said, untreated burnout can evolve into clinical depression, which is why early recognition matters. If you’re unsure, consult a medical professional—ideally one who understands both conditions.

Q: How long does recovery from burnout take?

There’s no universal timeline, which I know is frustrating for goal-oriented professionals. Mild burnout might resolve with several weeks of genuine rest and boundary implementation. Severe, chronic burnout can require months or even years of sustained lifestyle changes. Recovery isn’t linear—you’ll have good days and setbacks. What I’ve observed is that recovery accelerates dramatically when you stop trying to “optimise” it and simply commit to the process with patience and self-compassion.

Q: Can I recover whilst remaining in the same job?

Sometimes, but it requires significant boundary changes and organisational support. I’ve worked with executives who’ve recovered by renegotiating their roles, delegating differently, and implementing non-negotiable recovery practices. However, if your work environment is toxic, if your organisation actively punishes boundaries, or if the fundamental nature of your role is unsustainable, recovery might require a job change. This isn’t failure—it’s wisdom. Not every situation is fixable, and recognising that is a sign of health, not weakness.

Conclusion: The Courage to Notice

Here’s what I’ve learned from two decades of medical practice, fifteen years hosting Camino walking retreats, countless storytelling circles, and eight books exploring how humans cope with life’s most challenging moments: noticing is an act of courage.

Noticing that you cried over Percy Pigs and that means something.

Noticing that your body has been trying to tell you something for months, and you’ve been too busy to listen.

Noticing that success without sustainability isn’t actually success—it’s a beautifully decorated path toward collapse.

The twenty unconventional burnout symptoms outlined here aren’t a comprehensive diagnostic tool—I’m not attempting to replace proper medical evaluation. Rather, they’re an invitation to pay attention. To trust that when your body whispers, you don’t need to wait until it’s screaming. To understand that the most successful people aren’t those who never struggle, but those who recognise struggle and respond with wisdom rather than denial.

Geoff Bradley’s story isn’t unique. I’ve heard variations of it dozens of times—in consultation rooms, on Camino trails, in storytelling circles surrounded by horses who somehow make vulnerability feel safer. The details differ, but the arc remains consistent: something breaks through the armour of competence, forcing recognition. And that recognition, whilst initially terrifying, becomes the foundation for something more sustainable, more authentic, and ultimately more successful than the brittle perfection that preceded it.

You’re reading this for a reason. Perhaps you recognised yourself in these symptoms. Perhaps you recognised someone you love. Perhaps you’re simply curious about why successful people struggle in ways that don’t appear in the leadership literature.

Whatever brought you here, I invite you to stay curious. Notice without judging. Pay attention to what your brilliant, overworked body and mind are trying to tell you. Because recognising these unconventional burnout symptoms isn’t the end of your success story.

It’s the beginning of a better chapter—one where you’re sustainable, present, and genuinely well, not just appearing to be.

And that, I promise you from both my medical expertise and lived experience, is worth more than any partnership, any deal, any achievement that requires you to betray yourself to attain it.

You deserve to be well. Not just successful—well. The two aren’t mutually exclusive, though our culture insists they are.

Proving otherwise starts with noticing. And you’ve just taken the first step.

A Path Forward: Walking Towards Wellness

If this article has resonated—if you’ve recognised yourself in these symptoms, if Geoff’s story felt uncomfortably familiar, if you’re ready to do something different—I’d like to invite you to consider something that’s helped dozens of successful professionals reclaim their wellbeing.

My Camino de Santiago Crossroads Retreat in the sun-drenched countryside of south-west France offers something rare in our hyperconnected world: genuine space to pause, reflect, and heal.

Imagine this: walking ancient pilgrimage routes through rolling hills and medieval villages, each step a meditation, each day an opportunity to shed the weight you’ve been carrying. The rhythm of walking—steady, purposeful, gentle—creates a natural container for processing stress. There’s something profoundly healing about putting one foot in front of the other, mile after mile, with no agenda beyond presence.

Our days blend mindful hiking with meditation and mindfulness exercises specifically designed for stress management. We explore techniques grounded in both my medical training and my experience as an NLP Master Practitioner and Medical Hypnotherapist—practical tools you’ll actually use when you return to your demanding life.

But perhaps the most transformative element is our storytelling circles. Gathered in the peaceful presence of my Friesian horses—Kash, Twiss, and Zorie—and my gentle Falabella ponies, Loki and Lito, we create a space where successful people can finally stop performing competence and simply be human. There’s something about the horses’ calm, non-judgmental presence that makes vulnerability feel less terrifying. They don’t care about your job title or your achievements; they respond to your authenticity. It’s remarkably liberating.

In these circles, you’ll hear your story reflected in others’ experiences. You’ll recognise that the unconventional burnout symptoms you’ve been hiding aren’t character flaws but comprehensible responses to unsustainable circumstances. You’ll discover that the most successful people aren’t those who never struggle, but those brave enough to acknowledge struggle and ask for support.

This isn’t a luxury spa break. It’s not a corporate team-building exercise. It’s dedicated time to reconnect with yourself, to process what you’ve been pushing through, and to develop sustainable practices for managing stress without sacrificing success.

The Camino has been welcoming weary pilgrims for over a thousand years. Perhaps it’s your turn to walk towards wellness.

Stress destroys Lives. To find out what you can do to safeguard your sanity by taking my curiously confidence-boosting quiz, subscribe to my mailing list.