
Burnout Doesn’t Hit All at Once. It Creeps In.
Jun 25, 2025Authored By Sandy Spence
And no, your PM certification didn’t prepare you for any of it
When I think back to the most challenging project I’ve ever managed, it wasn’t the scope or timeline that broke me. It was everything that lived in between. The stuff no framework ever talks about—passive-aggressive emails. Weekends are lost to late instant messages. A burned-out team trying to deliver on shifting expectations with leadership that checked out the minute things got messy.
On paper, we delivered. But behind the scenes? I was barely holding it together.
I’d been managing complex, high-stakes projects for years. I knew how to write a charter, run stand-ups, chase dependencies, and lead cross-functional teams. What I didn’t know was how to survive when all the structure in the world couldn’t fix a dysfunctional environment.
That project taught me more than any certification or training I’ve ever taken. It taught me how burnout shows up, quietly at first, until it doesn’t. How boundaries aren’t just a nice-to-have, they’re the only thing standing between you and total exhaustion. And how dogs might be the only leadership coaches I’ll never outgrow.
The Signs Were There, I Just Ignored Them
At first, it looked like the usual chaos. Leadership hadn’t aligned, requirements kept shifting, and the client had no idea how much they were asking for. No big deal. I’d navigated worse.
But slowly, my calendar turned into a wall of back-to-back meetings. My evenings disappeared into emails and rework. My weekends bled into planning sessions and emergency updates. I stopped doing the things that helped me reset. Sleep got worse. My fuse got shorter.
And I didn’t say anything. I kept showing up, as if I could absorb it all. That’s the trap. In project management, people expect you to hold the weight, and we get used to carrying it.
Until we can’t.
The Moment That Snapped Me Back
One night, after a 12-hour day and a “just one more thing” call from a stakeholder, I sat down on the couch and just… stared. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t unwind. Couldn’t remember why I cared so much in the first place.
Harley, my big goofy mutt who thinks he’s a motivational speaker, dropped a ball at my feet and nudged my hand. Hattie, his shy little sister and the queen of emotional radar, curled up next to me and just stayed there. No demands. No deadlines. Just presence.
It hit me in that moment. This job was eating me alive. And I was letting it.
I didn’t need another project framework. I needed a boundary. A pause. A reset.
What I Changed
From that moment forward, I began managing projects differently. Not less seriously. Just more sustainably.
I began blocking out time on my calendar for deep work and protected it as if it were a meeting with my CEO. I turned off notifications after hours and gave myself full permission to be unavailable. When someone tried to sneak in a new ask, I asked what they wanted to remove instead. I made scope tangible and costly, not optional and invisible.
I stopped reacting to unreasonable deadlines and demands like they were gospel. Instead of absorbing every new fire drill, I started asking clarifying questions: What’s driving this date? What’s the actual business case? Who’s pushing this and why? I shifted from taking orders to opening dialogue, and in doing so, I stopped feeling like everything was just another weight dumped on my back.
I stopped pretending I could fix everything. When leadership dysfunction arose, I documented the risks, sent written recaps, and kept receipts. I made it clear what I could and couldn’t own. And when the system stayed broken, I stopped feeling like I had to fix it myself.
Most importantly, I started treating myself like a system worth maintaining. That meant walking the dogs during lunch and taking two minutes at the end of each day to clear my mind of the noise and talking to people who’d been through it. Saying no without guilt. Reclaiming time without apology.
The Cost of Pretending You’re Fine
Stress in this role isn’t theoretical. A recent survey found that 94 percent of project managers report feeling high stress, and more than two-thirds have experienced burnout. That pressure manifests in our sleep, relationships, and bodies. It doesn't just go away because we finish the project.
And if we don’t address it, it becomes the norm.
When I finally told a colleague what I’d been going through, she said, “I thought I was the only one.” That stuck with me. We’re not just leading timelines. We’re holding emotional weight for the entire team. And too often, we do it silently.
The Emotional Fallout No One Talks About
Burnout doesn’t just drain your energy. It messes with your head. It warps your thinking.
You start questioning your competence. You wonder if you’re the problem. Tasks that used to take an hour now take three because you can’t focus. You rewrite emails five times because everything feels loaded. You stop speaking up in meetings because what’s the point?
You become irritable, cynical, and detached, things you never were before. You start resenting people you like. You miss deadlines not because you're lazy, but because your brain can’t hold all the pieces anymore. Then comes the shame. The guilt. The fear that you're becoming the kind of PM you swore you'd never be.
That’s the trap. Burnout doesn’t just exhaust you. It isolates you. It chips away at your confidence until all that’s left is a shell running on fumes.
And because so much of project management is about presence, influence, and leadership, it has a greater impact. You feel like you’re failing at being the steady one. The fixer. The calm in the storm.
But you're not broken. You're depleted. And that’s something you can come back from.
The People We Love Feel It Too
Burnout doesn’t stay at work. It follows you home and poisons the air around you.
You start snapping at your partner over nothing. You cancel plans with friends because you’re too wiped to fake small talk. You sit on the couch next to your kids or your pets, but you're not there. You're checked out, mind spinning through timelines and to-do lists, pretending to rest while your body stays in fight-or-flight.
The people who love you start to walk on eggshells, not because they don’t care, but because they can tell you’re unraveling and don’t know how to help. That guilt adds another weight to the pile. Now you're not just burned out, you feel like a bad partner, a distant friend, an absent parent.
Even the dogs notice. They wait for walks that don’t happen. They drop the ball at your feet and get ignored. They curl up beside you while your mind races, trying to remind you what being present looks like.
That’s the real cost. Not just what burnout takes from you, but what it steals from the life you’re trying to build outside of work.
If You See These Signs, Pay Attention
Burnout doesn’t always kick the door in. Sometimes it creeps in quietly and calls itself “being a team player.” Here are a few signs I wish I’d taken seriously sooner:
- You start dreading your calendar before you even open it.
- You're constantly behind, no matter how early you start or how late you stay.
- The little things, like another message ping or meeting request, feel unreasonably heavy.
- You find yourself resenting your team or your stakeholders.
- Sleep is trash, your fuse is short, and your motivation is on life support.
- You stop doing the things that used to help you reset, because “there’s no time.”
- You’ve said “I just need to get through this week” for the last 12 weeks.
None of these mean you're bad at your job. They mean you're running on empty. And if you don’t refuel, you’ll break down. No project is worth that.
What I’d Tell Another PM
- You can be committed without being consumed.
- Your time is not a free resource. Your peace is not a luxury. And your title does not require you to burn yourself out to keep everyone else warm.
- Protect your calendar. Say no early and often. Take breaks before you’re desperate for them. Get a support system that includes both humans and, preferably, a dog or two. And if the red flags keep waving, don’t wait for someone else to pull you out. Walk.
- Being a great project manager isn’t about keeping everything on track at any cost. It’s about leading with clarity, protecting your energy, and fostering a culture where people, including yourself, can truly thrive.
We often discuss moving tasks. But the truth is, we’re here to move people. And that starts with how we take care of ourselves.
Harley still drops the ball at my feet when I work too long. Hattie still reminds me that a quiet presence is powerful. And I’m still learning how to lead without sacrificing myself to the process.
If that sounds familiar, you’re not alone.
I’m still in it, honestly:
- Still unlearning the habits that got me here.
- Still wrestling with guilt when I log off.
- Still catching myself trying to be the hero when what I need is rest.
But I’m doing it differently now. I go outside and throw the ball to Harley sooner and for longer. I let Hattie remind me that being still is not the same as doing nothing. I reset faster. I reach out sooner. And that, in itself, is progress.
Contributor Bio
Sandy Spence is a Senior Project Manager and Professional Services Supervisor who has been managing high-pressure projects for more than 17 years and still believes boundaries are the most underrated PM tool. She’s led teams through chaos, conflict, and curveballs and is learning to lead herself just as fiercely.
Connect on LinkedIn: Sandy Spence