Burnout in Tech: My Journey to Recovery

Hello, fellow programmers

I wanted to share a thing into what feels like a digital inferno—something that has been on my mind a lot lately. Perhaps you've experienced it as well. You know, the never-ending cycle of programming, troubleshooting, testing, and the never-ending pressure to turn in perfect code by the deadline?

For me, it all began with a love of technology—the excitement of coming up with elegant answers to problems and witnessing the convergence of seemingly meaningless lines of code to produce something significant. But eventually, the relentless sprints, late-night debugging sessions, and the never-ending backlog of additions and fixes began to wear on that enthusiasm.

When I first recognized something was off, it was a typical Tuesday morning. As I was getting ready to start another coding day at my computer, I was gathered by a sense of emptiness. I felt empty and uninspired, as if the enthusiasm and energy that had motivated me to work had vanished over night.

Although spending a lot of time in front of a monitor is a contributing factor, it's not the only thing. It's also about the psychological toll: the fear of missing a notification and the sense of always being on call that comes with a major issue going unnoticed. It's the incessant speed of IT industry trends that appear to change quicker than we can adjust, the aggravation of battling legacy code, and the need to stay up to date with the newest frameworks and tools.

When I recognized I was burning out and was experiencing exhaustion and lack of inspiration, I understood it was time to let go of what had once been my passion. I realized then that I needed to change. I can now understand, looking back, that burnout did not occur overnight. It slowly infiltrated my life. Weeks passed, and I began to dread thinking about going to work every day—not just on Mondays. Desperate to get away from my job and escape the rising pressure, what used to be quick stops for coffee became extended stays. I no longer enjoy learning new technologies or trying out various coding strategies. Rather, my criticism of the work I was doing became more and more jaded and negative, reflecting my anger.

Getting out of the vicious cycle of never-ending productivity and perfectionism wasn't easy. There were times when I felt guilty and doubtful that I wasn't doing enough. But gradually, as I began to put my emotional and physical wellness first. It was important to ask for help after all.

I've discovered that we developers have an equal responsibility to look for ourselves as we do our code. Finding balance means understanding when to put down the screen, ask for assistance from others, and refuse demands that are too high or unrealistic.

So, if you're feeling like you're in the midst of your own digital inferno, know that you're not alone. It's okay to take breaks, to set boundaries, and to prioritize your well-being. Remember, the best code often comes from a clear mind and a balanced perspective.

So let's crack the code better than others - but one line at a time!

Stay strong Hoomans!