Activist Burnout Self-Assessment

This assessment is based on established burnout research and 15+ years of clinical experience working with activists, NGO professionals, and social impact leaders.

It takes 2 minutes. Answer honestly — not how you think you should feel, but how you actually feel right now.

There are no good or bad results. Every stage has a path forward.

1. When you think about your workload right now, which comes closest to your honest reaction?

It’s a lot, but it feels meaningful. I can handle it, this work matters.

It’s too much. I’m keeping up, but only just. I’m always slightly behind.

I’ve stopped thinking about it much. I just go through the motions.

I can’t face it. Even thinking about it makes me feel exhausted or anxious.

2. How do you sleep?

Generally fine, though my mind is often still running when I get into bed.

I fall asleep tired but wake up still exhausted. Rest doesn’t seem to reach me.

I sleep, but I feel nothing much when I wake up — no dread, no motivation. Just flat.

My sleep is disrupted, broken, or I wake up with a sense of dread or heaviness I can’t shake.

3. When you imagine a week off — no emails, no responsibilities — your first honest reaction is:

That sounds good, but honestly I’d probably check in. It’s hard to fully disconnect.

Relief. I desperately need it. But I’d still worry about what I’m missing.

Indifference. A week off or a week working — it doesn’t feel like it would change much.

It sounds impossible, or it sounds like the only thing that could save me right now.How connected do you feel to the mission or cause you work

4. How connected do you feel to the mission or cause you work for?

Very connected. The mission is a core part of who I am — sometimes it’s hard to separate.

Connected, but the day-to-day pressure makes it hard to feel the meaning as clearly as I used to.

I know why it matters intellectually, but I don’t feel it anymore. Something has gone quiet.

The mission feels distant, or it feels like it no longer has anything to do with me.

5. When something goes wrong at work — a project fails, a colleague is difficult, a deadline is missed — your typical response is:

I take it seriously. I feel responsible, and I work hard to fix it, sometimes more than I should.

I feel overwhelmed by it, even small things. My resilience feels thinner than it used to be.

I feel irritated, or I feel nothing. Either way, I’m less able to engage with it constructively.

I feel trapped, hopeless, or like I simply cannot deal with one more thing.

6. Think about the things you used to enjoy outside of work — hobbies, friendships, rest, creativity. How present are they in your life now?

Less than before. Work has quietly taken over, but I tell myself it’s temporary.

I know they’re important but I genuinely don’t have the energy for them most of the time.

I’ve largely stopped. I don’t miss them much, which is strange. I’ve just gone numb to them

They feel out of reach. I can’t imagine having the capacity to enjoy anything right now.

7. How often do you feel guilty for resting, taking time off, or saying no to something?

Often. Rest feels like something I have to earn. Saying no feels like letting people down.

Almost always. And even when I do rest, I can’t fully let go — I’m just waiting to go back.

Rest feels neither earned nor wanted — just distant.

I take it sometimes, but I come back feeling the same — empty, heavy, or just numb.

8. When you interact with colleagues, beneficiaries, or partners, how would you honestly describe your emotional presence?

Engaged, though I notice I’m sometimes running on responsibility more than genuine energy.

Present in the moment, but depleted afterwards. Interactions cost me more than they used to.

I go through the motions. I can perform being present, but I’m not really there.

I avoid interactions when I can. Or I’m there physically but feel completely disconnected.

9. When you think about the next 6 months in your current role, your honest feeling is:

Motivated, though slightly anxious about sustaining the pace. I want to keep going.

Apprehensive. I’m not sure how I’ll keep this up. Something needs to change but I don’t know what.

Flat, or vaguely resigned. I’m not sure I care as much as I think I should.

Dread, or a desperate wish to escape. I fantasise about leaving, disappearing, or everything stopping.

10. If you had to be completely honest with yourself right now — not with your organisation, not with your donors, just with yourself — how are you doing?

I’m okay. Tired, but okay. I believe in what I do and that carries me.

I’m struggling more than I show. I’m holding things together but it takes effort.

I’ve stopped asking myself that question. It’s easier not to look too closely.

I’m not okay. And I think part of me has known that for a while.