Three years into permanent WFH and you’re having a proper breakdown over a Slack notification. Your bedroom is your office. Your lunch break involves moving from desk chair to sofa. That commute everyone said you’d miss? Turns out the psychological boundary between “work” and “life” mattered more than the actual train journey.
Burnout looks different when you’re remote. There’s no leaving the office. No visual cue that work has ended. Just you, staring at the same four walls, wondering why you feel exhausted despite never going anywhere.
Why Traditional “Solutions” Don’t Work for Remote Burnout
Your GP offers antidepressants after a ten-minute phone consultation. HR sends another wellness webinar link. Your manager suggests “taking a proper lunch break” whilst messaging you at 9pm about tomorrow’s deliverables.
None of this addresses the actual problem. Remote work erased boundaries that used to exist automatically. When your bedroom is your office, your brain never fully switches off. You’re technically always at work because work lives in your house now.
Prescription medication helps some people genuinely. But handing out pills for a situation that’s fundamentally about a terrible work structure? That’s treating symptoms whilst ignoring causes.
The Legal High That’s Replacing Wine O’Clock
Remote workers are finding relief in places the wellness industry doesn’t usually discuss. Some people discovered that weed gummies that are legal help them properly disconnect at day’s end in ways meditation apps never managed. These hemp-derived products ship internationally, don’t require prescriptions, and offer measured doses that let people control exactly how relaxed they want to feel.
The advantage over alcohol? No hangover, no extra calories, and effects that help you actually unwind rather than just making you tired and dehydrated. Unlike prescription medication, you’re not committed to a months-long trial to see if side effects eventually balance out.
Worth noting: This approach works best when paired with actual boundary-setting, not as a replacement for fixing broken work patterns.
Boundaries That Stick
Forget the advice about “dedicated workspace” when you live in a one-bedroom flat. Physical separation isn’t always possible, but psychological separation is.
Hard stop times work better than flexible ones. Saying “I’ll finish around six-ish” means you’re still working at eight. Saying “I stop at 5:30pm regardless of what’s unfinished” requires courage but creates breathing room.
Separate devices help more than you’d expect. Work laptop stays closed after hours. Personal phone handles everything else. Sounds simple until you realise how much mental load comes from seeing work emails pop up whilst you’re trying to watch telly.
Some people physically move their work setup each evening. Laptop goes in a cupboard. Papers get stacked in a box. Visual removal of work stuff signals to your brain that the workday has ended, even when you’re still in the same room.
The Stuff Nobody Admits
Sometimes coping looks like lying on the floor for twenty minutes between meetings. Sometimes it’s crying in the shower before your 9am call. Sometimes it’s questioning whether any job is worth feeling this terrible.
Remote work burnout carries extra shame because you’re “supposed to be grateful” for the flexibility. Everyone says you can’t complain about WFH when office workers are stuck commuting. So people stay quiet about legitimate problems, suffering alone instead of speaking up.
Burnout happens when work demands consistently exceed what you can handle, without proper recovery time. Nothing to do with weakness or laziness. Remote setups amplify this by erasing the natural stopping points that used to exist.
Recognising When You Need Out
Some remote jobs can’t be fixed with better coping strategies. Employers who expect constant availability, ignore every boundary you set, and treat your home like company property—no self-care routine changes that dynamic.
You’ve moved past coping when: Sunday dread kicks in Saturday morning. Physical symptoms show up—constant headaches, digestive problems. Everything outside work feels impossible because you’re too exhausted or anxious to engage.
Leaving entirely might be necessary, not just managing better. Recognising when a situation can’t be fixed from your end takes courage, not weakness.
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Most companies implemented remote work terribly, even if the concept has potential. Coping strategies keep you functional whilst sorting longer-term solutions—better boundaries, different work, or both. You’re not trying to become better at tolerating awful situations. You’re trying to feel human again instead of like a productivity machine that occasionally needs sleep.
