There is a fashionable word for what many people feel right now.
Burnout.
It sounds modern. Sophisticated. Almost noble. The inevitable tax of ambition.
But I am not convinced burnout is the correct diagnosis.
I suspect something far less poetic.
You are not burned out.
You are biochemically overloaded.
And your body is trying, politely at first and then less politely, to tell you.
Burnout suggests something emotional. Psychological weariness. Spiritual exhaustion.
Biochemical overload is different.
It is measurable. Hormonal. Inflammatory. Metabolic. It accumulates quietly inside people who still show up to work every morning.
You wake up tired. Not only because you slept too little, though many do, but because your nervous system never truly powered down.
Cortisol was never given permission to fall.
You scroll late. Blue light suppresses melatonin. You eat quickly. You eat processed food. You sit longer than you move. You chase deadlines, money, relevance.
Your body responds faithfully.
It releases cortisol to help you cope.
Adrenaline to keep you alert.
Insulin to manage repeated glucose spikes.
You call it busy.
Your body calls it survival.
This is not weakness. It is physiology.
Cortisol is not evil. It sharpens attention and mobilises energy in a crisis. But it was designed for short bursts, a sudden threat, not emails at midnight.
When cortisol remains elevated for months or years, it alters insulin sensitivity, promotes central fat storage, disrupts sleep architecture, raises blood pressure and suppresses immunity.
Within days of restricted sleep, insulin sensitivity declines in healthy adults. Within weeks, blood pressure patterns begin to shift.
These are not sudden events.
They are biochemical diaries written slowly in fasting glucose levels, waist circumference and blood pressure readings.
Hypertension.
Type 2 diabetes.
Fatty liver.
Cardiovascular disease.
We call them non-communicable diseases. But they communicate very clearly.
Inside each of your cells are mitochondria, microscopic power plants converting nutrients into usable energy. They function best when sleep is adequate, nutrition is steady and stress is intermittent.
Chronic stress, ultra-processed food and inactivity impair mitochondrial efficiency.
You experience that as fatigue.
Not laziness.
Fatigue.
Caffeine blocks adenosine. It does not restore energy production. So you drink another cup.
Meanwhile, insulin resistance inches forward. Repeated glucose spikes require repeated insulin surges. Over time, tissues respond by resisting the signal. Insulin levels climb higher to compensate.
You call it weight gain.
Your body calls it adaptation.
There is a difference between emotional burnout and biochemical overload, though they often overlap.
Emotional burnout is despair.
Biochemical overload is dysregulation.
One requires psychological support.
The other requires physiological restoration.
Sometimes both.
We glorify exhaustion in this era. We admire four-hour sleep schedules. We celebrate productivity without pause.
But biology does not admire hustle.
It obeys circadian rhythm.
Chronic activation of the fight-or-flight response was never meant to be permanent. Elevated cortisol can impair thyroid signalling, disrupt reproductive hormones, fragment deep sleep and promote abdominal fat accumulation.
You wake up exhausted not simply because you slept briefly, but because you did not sleep deeply.
The body whispers before it screams.
First fatigue.
Then irritability.
Then poor concentration.
Then subtle metabolic drift.
Then a diagnosis.
There is no blame here.
Every adaptation, higher insulin, higher cortisol, higher blood pressure, was an attempt to keep you functional in a chronically stressed environment.
It worked.
Until it did not.
You are not broken.
You are overloaded.
And overload can be reduced.
Seven to eight hours of consistent sleep lowers cortisol and improves insulin sensitivity. Thirty minutes of brisk walking enhances glucose uptake even without weight loss.
Food is biochemical information. Whole foods stabilise insulin and reduce inflammatory load.
Activating the parasympathetic system, the rest-and-digest pathway, lowers heart rate, reduces cortisol and supports immune balance.
You cannot out-supplement overload.
Magnesium may help sleep modestly. Certain adaptogens may influence perceived stress.
But no capsule overrides chronic dysregulation.
The real intervention is rhythm.
Regular sleep.
Regular meals.
Regular movement.
Morning light exposure.
Protein at breakfast.
Boundaries around work.
Fewer screens at night.
Less alcohol.
More connection.
Laughter lowers cortisol.
Social connection reduces inflammatory markers. Time in nature reduces sympathetic tone.
These are not sentimental ideas. They are measurable.
We sometimes diagnose anxiety without first addressing sleep. We sometimes prescribe without fully exploring inflammation and chronic stress load.
Medication has its place. So does metabolic repair.
If you feel persistently exhausted, foggy, irritable, gaining weight despite effort, consider this. Your body is not failing.
It is responding to a modern environment it was never designed to endure continuously.
Burnout suggests fragility.
Biochemical overload suggests strain. And strain can be relieved.
The body does not demand perfection.
It demands rhythm.
Restore rhythm and resilience returns.
You are not burned out.
You are overloaded.
And overload is reversible.
But only if you listen before the whisper becomes a scream.
