Most Burnout in Wellbeing Isn’t Emotional. It’s Cognitive.

This might sound uncomfortable, but it’s something we see quietly, again and again, across our health and wellbeing work.

People still care.
They’re still committed.
They’re still doing good work.

But they’re tired in a very specific way.

Not emotionally detached.
Not disillusioned.
Just worn down by having to explain the same things, carefully and compassionately, over and over again.

The part of the work we rarely name

A huge amount of therapeutic and wellbeing work happens before any technique or intervention.

Helping someone understand what’s happening for them.
Normalising experiences that feel frightening.
Giving language to things that have never been named.
Setting expectations gently, without judgement.

It’s meaningful work, but it’s also cognitively demanding.

As Carl Rogers put it:

“When someone really hears you without passing judgement on you, without trying to take responsibility for you, without trying to mould you, it feels damn good.”

That “hearing” takes energy. And when the same foundations live only in live conversations, that energy gets spent repeatedly.

Why does the idea of a course appear at this stage

Most practitioners don’t start thinking about online courses because they want to scale or monetise harder.

They think about them when they notice patterns like:

• “I’ve explained this three times today”

• “I wish people arrived already understanding this part”

• “I love my work, but I’m oddly exhausted by it”

That’s not burnout in the dramatic sense.
It’s cumulative cognitive load.

As Viktor Frankl wrote:

“When a person can’t find a deep sense of meaning, they distract themselves with pleasure.”

In wellbeing work, the opposite often happens: meaning is present, but the structure to support it isn’t.

A course doesn’t have to be a product

In health and wellbeing spaces, “online course” can feel like the wrong phrase entirely.

Too commercial.
Too impersonal.
Too far removed from care.

But for many practitioners, a course isn’t about selling knowledge.

It’s about giving core ideas a place to live elsewhere.

The explanations everyone needs.
The context that makes everything else make sense.
The reassurance that gets repeated endlessly.

When those foundations exist outside of you, the work often deepens rather than dilutes

This shows up differently depending on your role

For therapists
It often shows up as fatigue from constant psychoeducation and early-stage grounding that could exist elsewhere, without replacing the therapeutic relationship.

For coaches
It’s the repetition of mindset shifts, reframes, and foundational thinking that eats into the time meant for growth and action.

For wellbeing brands
It appears as an inconsistency, the same message explained differently by different people, creating confusion rather than clarity.

Different contexts. Same underlying strain.

This isn’t about doing more

If anything, it’s about carrying less.

Some people use courses before 1:1 work begins.
Some use them alongside sessions.
Some simply use them as a shared reference point.

Not everyone needs one.
Not everyone wants one.

But many people reach a point where the way they’re working quietly asks too much of them.

A question worth sitting with

If this resonates at all, we are curious:

Which part of your work do you find yourself explaining most often, and what would change if that knowledge didn’t rely solely on you to deliver it every time?

If this resonated, I’m not here to convince anyone to “build a course”.

I am interested in thoughtful conversations about how we design wellbeing work so it stays ethical, effective, and sustainable, for the people we help and the people doing the helping.

If you’re a therapist, coach, or wellbeing practitioner and you’ve been quietly noticing the same patterns, feel free to comment or message us.