Warsaw, 20th May
I didn’t know what burnout was until it happened to me. In that moment I didn’t know what I should or shouldn’t do. I just wanted to scream and quit my job—the NGO I had created and where I was working.
In Poland, where I live, NGOs take on lots of responsibilities that the state often overlooks: education, community-building, projects with migrants or disadvantaged groups. They do vital work—but it’s not easy.
NGOs here face constant financial instability. We rely on temporary grants, which means constant uncertainty. I used to write project proposals in the autumn, wait all winter, receive confirmation in March, and finally get the funds in May—by which time it was too late to do very much. Summer wasn’t ideal for implementation, and by autumn, while running projects, we were already writing the next batch of applications. It’s an exhausting cycle that makes stress feel like a permanent condition.
Working in the nonprofit sector often comes with the unspoken rule that your job is your passion—or even your hobby. And because of this mindset, sometimes you end up doing it for free, or for very little, which is dangerous for mental health.
You wake up one day, you’re 28 or 29, still living with your parents, dreaming of becoming independent, and you suddenly realize that the system isn’t built to support you. Permanent contracts are rare, and financial stability feels out of reach.
Many people start volunteering with a strong sense of purpose, hoping to make a difference. I did too. With this in mind, I created the Culture Shock Foundation, which works in new technologies, art, culture, and non-formal education.
But there came a point when I realized that I was failing. I used to be full of energy, creating things from nothing, and truly enjoying it. But in the long run, it just didn’t work. I was overwhelmed, I could no longer see a way forward. I fantasized about a job that didn’t require thinking.
Over time, I realized my expectations about life and work were in fact utopian. I believed I had to take care of others first. I never asked anyone to work for free, and yet I did so myself.
I began reading about burnout, trying to understand it on a personal level. But it quickly became clear that the fragile job market we are part of plays a major role. And in a world full of crises, burnout is no longer an exception—it’s becoming the norm.
We knew how important NGOs are for building civil society and bring people together, but we also saw the emotional and physical cost this work takes on people working in the sector.
That’s why we launched the “Burnout Aid” portal in 2022. We created a self-assessment test which tells you if you’re at risk. Thousands of people took it. At first, we thought the issue was specific to Poland. The biggest surprise was realizing burnout looks the same in other countries as well. The test is now even being translated into Indonesian because it reflects their reality too.
The root of the problem lies in the system—a system that reproduces structures of power and abuse. People say “You need to rest,” but it’s not that simple. They tell you, “Take care of yourself.” But what if you have no money, and your financial stress is constant? It all circles back to the same system.
Not everyone can survive that level of stress. In a sense, burnout feels like an ingredient of modern life.
And yet, I still have hope. I see younger generations in Poland drawing clear boundaries. Older people criticize them, saying they lack motivation or the “culture of sacrifice.” But I think they’re just learning to protect themselves.
Maybe they’ll be the first generation that figures out how to work without burning out. And for that, I believe they could be a source of inspiration for all of us.
