Burnout by a Thousand Notifications

I have a confession—and it feels like a strange one for someone who loves and works with people: I don’t like communication. I love connecting over coffee. I love walking alongside people through life’s challenges. But the too-muchness of modern communication—the onslaught of emails, text messages, DMs, and Lord have mercy—platforms like Basecamp and Teamwork? It’s exhausting.

Honestly, it was one of the major contributors to my burnout. And even now, navigating communication overload continues to impact my mental health. If you’re someone I know and love, and we use these platforms to communicate—it’s not you, it’s me. Actually, it’s not just me—it’s probably all of us.

It turns out there’s a name for this type of weariness: communication fatigue.

Communication fatigue is exactly what it sounds like—mental and emotional exhaustion from the constant stream of communication, often fueled by technology and a relentless influx of information. Think endless notifications, too many meetings, the blurring of work and personal life, and that sinking feeling of inbox overwhelm.

And while communication fatigue is a distinctly modern challenge, I often wonder about how we once had built-in rhythms that offered rest—and how we’ve slowly squeezed those out. In my Methodist tradition, we have the legacy of circuit riders—those rugged preachers in early America who were assigned territories of up to 500 miles to visit communities and offer sacraments. After they preached, presided, visited, and worked through challenging relationships, they’d get back on their horse and ride. Sometimes for days, weeks even, before their next assignment. Can you imagine what that solitude did for the soul?

These days, we don’t get back on a horse. We get back on email. And Slack. And Teams. And GroupMe.

We’re constantly connected, and constantly on. And it’s wearing us thin.

So, what do we do with this?

If you resonate with this, you’re not alone. Some helpful strategies (and ones I’m actively practicing) include:

• Setting clearer boundaries—choosing when and how you’ll engage. If you need to, turn off those alerts.

• Focusing on quality over quantity in what you send.

• Taking intentional breaks—walking, resting, even staring at a wall—because white space matters for our brains and hearts.

• Naming your needs—with colleagues, with loved ones, with yourself.

Communication fatigue doesn’t make you bad at your job or flaky in your relationships—it makes you human in a world that constantly asks for more than we were built to give.

It’s not selfish to step back. It’s faithful. It’s wise. And sometimes, it’s the only way to move forward in a healthy way.

If you find yourself weary or stretched thin, you’re not alone. You are loved. And you don’t have to respond to that email right now.