By Jasper Miranda
I used to be the student who never ran out of energy. In between school deadlines, you’d find me in the streets taking photos, polishing graphic design projects, or sweating it out in karate practice. People would laugh and say, “Do you even get tired?” I genuinely loved every moment until, one day, I didn’t. Suddenly, picking up my camera felt heavy. Opening photoshop felt suffocating. My body, once eager to move in the dojo, resisted. It wasn’t just burnout; it was like mourning the loss of a part of myself. Yet, instead of compassion, people perceived it as pure laziness
But here’s the truth: I’m not lazy — I’m tired. Not from slacking off, but from carrying too much, too long, without pause. Burnout among passionate students is a misunderstood crisis. It’s the silent collapse of people who care deeply, give fully, and forget to care for themselves. When passions that once lit up your world begin to dim, it’s not a failure of discipline. It’s a human response to unrelenting stress.
Burnout Is a Real Condition, Not a Moral Weakness
Burnout is often misunderstood as laziness or lack of discipline, but science tells a different story. The World Health Organization defines burnout as a syndrome resulting from chronic stress, characterized by exhaustion, detachment, and a drop in performance. For students, it means feeling drained by the very things that once gave us life. Photography, graphic design, karate — they were my joys, my outlets. But when pressure piled up and rest disappeared, even these passions became heavy burdens. It’s not that we stop loving what we do, it’s that we’re too depleted to reach for it.
The Most Passionate Are Often the Most at Risk
Ironically, the students most prone to burnout are those bursting with passion. We are the ones who say yes to every opportunity, every leadership role, every new challenge. Our drive makes us shine, but it also makes us vulnerable. Society loves to praise these but rarely teaches us how to protect the very fire we’re celebrated for. Without the tools to step back, we push ourselves to the point of breaking and when we break, we’re told it’s our fault.
But Isn’t Pushing Through Part of Growth?
There’s a popular belief that resilience is made by pushing through exhaustion, that only the tough can survive. But true resilience isn’t about glorifying overwork; it’s about knowing when to stop and care for yourself. You don’t become stronger by tearing yourself apart. You grow by respecting your limits, by asking for help, and by understanding that rest is part of the process, not a sign of failure.
Burnout is not a proof of failure, it’s a warning sign. It tells us something in our routines or environments needs to shift. We must build a culture where students can pause without guilt, rest without shame, and rediscover the joy in what they love. For me, that means returning to photography, not because I should, but because I’m ready. It means stepping back into the dojo, not to prove anything, but to reconnect. Rest is not surrender; it’s what keeps ambition alive. And when we allow ourselves to breathe, we make space for our passions to reignite, so we can rise, not burned out, but burning even brighter once more.
