When Burnout Is a Symptom of Over-Control

I’ve been thinking a lot about burnout lately—not the kind that comes from a packed calendar or a sleepless night, but the deeper kind. The kind that creeps in when we’ve taken on too much for too long, carrying things that were never ours to carry in the first place, and almost always as a means of refusing to recognize what is really going on internally.

I used to think burnout was a badge of honor. The evidence of a selfless hard-worker. But lately, I’ve started to see it differently- overworking yourself to this point does not enable you to continue caring for others, so it's definitely not selfless. As my mother has often told me, "You can't pour from an empty cup." In reality, burnout is often a symptom of control. A quiet whisper from the soul saying, “You’re trying to be God again.”

The Laundry of the Soul

It shows up in small ways. Like this week when I forget to wash my husband’s pants, even though he asked me very nicely and left them where I asked him to. I didn't do it until the last minute, not because I don’t care—but because I was overwhelmed and scattered this week. Some would say I hold secret resentment for doing these kinds of tasks for my spouse and that’s why I said “yes” but didn’t follow through timely, but I think it is deeper than that. I love doing acts of service for my man- it is confidence booster for me. Some would say it is my husband's fault for even asking me to wash his pants, I’m a busy working mom after all right?! But that's called blame shifting; spouses are supposed to be able to ask each other for help when they are strapped or time. The real hidden resentment, if I am brutally honest, is my resentment toward myself for a) not being to do it ALL and b) not being able accept that I can't do it all and honor myself by saying "no" or reducing my work-load. Basically, being angry at myself for not acknowledging my own limits. And you want to know where that stems from? Pride. Because I am a praise addict. Because, humble as I try to portray myself, I love how it feels when someone says, “I don’t know how you do it all.” Pride is a deep topic that requires a post (many posts actually) all to itself. Today, let’s focus on one product of pride: control.

We often try to balance burnout by micro-managing, a form of control, such as when I direct my children’s every move, tell them where and how to put every item in their room, plan out every moment of their day—believing that if I don’t do it, it won’t get done. Or worse, it won’t get done right. But here’s the truth I’m learning: my children are more capable than I give them credit for. So is my husband. And when I take over their responsibilities, I’m not just exhausting myself—I’m robbing them of growth, dignity, and the joy of contribution.

Burnout is a Spiritual Wake-Up Cal

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Burnout isn’t just emotional fatigue. It’s spiritual misalignment. It’s what happens when we forget that we’re not the Savior—we’re the steward. When we confuse love with control. When we carry what was meant to be shared.

Saint Monica once said, “Nothing is far from God.” That includes the laundry. The undone chores. The forgotten pants. The moments when we feel like we’ve failed. God is there, whispering, “Let go. Let them rise. Let Me be enough.”

What to Try Instead

Here are a few gentle ways I’m learning to delegate responsibility in the moments when I am genuinely overstretched:

• Ask instead of taking everything upon yourself. “Can you take care of your laundry this week?” instead of silently doing it. So many times, my husband says, "Why didn't you ask me to do that" after I finish a task that he would've been more than happy to take care of.

• Let natural consequences teach. If a child forgets their water bottle, let thirst be the teacher—not your frustration.

• Create shared rituals with the kids. Set aside time blocks for specific things-homework, chores, meals, etc., but leave freedom within it. Let them decide how they will get their responsibilities done- nothing builds confidence more, especially in boys/men, than hearing, "I know you can figure this out on your own."

• Release perfection. Let the folded towels be crooked. Let the dinner be simple. Let the grace be enough.

At the end of each day, I’m still learning. I still forget. I still slip into control when I’m tired or scared. But I’m beginning to see that true stewardship isn’t about doing more—it’s about trusting more. Trusting my family. Trusting the process. Trusting God.

If you’re feeling burned out, maybe it’s not because you’re weak. Maybe it’s because you’re strong—and it’s time to share the strength.