I used to believe that if I just practiced enough, everything else would magically fall into place. I was wrong. Dead wrong.

Years of striving for perfection in my music almost consumed me. I was burnt out, isolated, and never truly satisfied. I’d achieved so much, but at what cost?

It took hitting rock bottom to realize that the problem wasn’t my talent or dedication. It was my approach to both life and music.

Here are 11 lessons I learned the hard way:

1. Neglecting My Health Led to Burnout

I ignored sleep, nutrition, and exercise. Music is demanding, but my body and mind needed care too. Neglecting these basics only set me back.

2. Isolation Stifled My Support System

I cut myself off from friends and family, thinking I needed to stay focused. But their support was crucial for my well-being.

3. Ignoring Mental Health Compromised My Joy

Success isn’t worth it if you lose your peace of mind. Prioritizing mental health was essential for truly enjoying my journey.

4. Constant Comparison Stole My Joy

I compared myself to others constantly, which robbed me of joy. I had to learn to run my own race and celebrate my unique path.

5. Perfectionism Was a Prison

I was fixated on getting everything right, which made me lose sight of enjoying the process. Letting go of perfection helped me rediscover the joy in music.

6. Fear of Failure Held Me Back

Failure used to terrify me, making me feel inadequate. Embracing failure as valuable feedback taught me important lessons about my craft and myself.

7. Lack of Boundaries Led to Burnout

I got lost in my passion and neglected boundaries. Setting limits for rest, family time, and self-care was crucial for sustaining my creativity.

8. Letting Music Define Me Was Limiting

Music was consuming my entire identity. Making time for hobbies, friends, and quiet moments enriched my life and made me a better musician.

9. Avoiding Help Made Things Harder

I thought asking for help was a weakness. Reaching out for support from therapy and friends proved to be a strength.

10. Waiting for Big Wins Made Me Forget Small Victories

I only celebrated big moments and ignored the small wins. Recognizing and celebrating these small victories kept me motivated and made the journey enjoyable.

11. Misunderstanding Progress as Linear Was Misleading

I expected progress to be a straight line. Accepting that growth is messy — with two steps forward and one step back — helped me stay motivated for the long haul.

These 11 lessons helped me turn things around. But even after learning these lessons, it wasn’t like flipping a switch.

There’s no quick fix for burnout or the mental toll that comes with chasing a dream. I had to come to terms with something even harder — mental health isn’t something you overcome, it’s something you learn to manage every day.

Reality Check: Mental Health Isn’t Something You “Overcome” — It’s Something You Manage

I see posts about burnout and mental health that say things like:

“You’re just not self-aware enough.”

“You need to follow your passion to be happy.”

“Overcoming burnout is easier than you think.”

As if we all have 100% control over our lives and can fix everything with a few simple steps.

But here’s the truth: life doesn’t work like that.

It wasn’t long ago that I thought life could be shaped by willpower and passion alone. But life has a way of humbling you. No matter how well you plan or how hard you fight, the unexpected always shows up — and throws everything off balance.

Over the past 9 years, I’ve truly come to understand the meaning behind the phrase ‘Shit happens.’

• You fall out with your family

• Your business shuts down

• You get diagnosed with a heart problem at 23

• Your mental health continues to decline

• You experience suicidal thoughts for the first time

And despite all the progress you’ve made, depression and perfectionism can creep back in.

One moment you feel like you’re moving forward, the next, you’re overwhelmed by the weight of it all. For me, that weight can be unbearable.

In August, I spiraled back into suicidal thoughts after years of fighting to stay afloat. Despite all the tools I’d learned, despite therapy, despite self-care… the darkness returned.

Here’s something I’ve realized — something both deeply humbling and, in an odd way, strangely comforting:

You don’t “conquer” mental health struggles — whether it’s depression, burnout, or anxiety. You carry them. You manage them.

Some days are good. Others, not so much. And that’s okay.

Looking back, it wasn’t until I reached my lowest point that I truly understood this. For years, I thought I could push through the pain, that I could simply outwork the darkness. But by the end of 2023, I couldn’t pretend anymore. I had to confront the truth and share my story with others.

My Story: Sharing My Journey and Building Connection

Last November, I hit publish on my first post sharing my struggles with depression as a musician. I had no idea what would happen. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure I’d keep writing.

At the time, I was standing at a crossroads — completely burnt out, emotionally drained, and struggling to find any sense of hope.

For 9 years, I wore a mask of stability:

• Functioning through workdays

• Willing myself out of bed

• Mustering smiles for others

• Finding solace in my guitar

I’d managed to cope with my depression for almost a decade, but by the end of 2023, it became impossible to hide behind a smile. The weight was too heavy.

I spent weeks searching for stories, podcasts, and posts from other musicians who might have been through what I was going through — but I found nothing. In a world that’s more connected than ever, I felt completely alone.

That’s when I played my last card. I decided to share my story in the hopes that maybe — just maybe — someone out there felt the same.

Since that post, my content has evolved — sometimes I write about AI, record labels, or marketing. But the one thing that hasn’t changed is my goal: to share stories, lessons, and reminders for musicians battling depression, anxiety, and burnout.

Looking Ahead: What’s Next?

Looking ahead, I have no idea where this will take me. Maybe I’ll start that podcast I’ve been dreaming of, or build a private community for musicians struggling with their mental health. Maybe I’ll write a book.

But this isn’t just about me. It’s about all of us — musicians, artists, creatives — who struggle to balance our passion with the reality of mental health challenges.

Whatever happens, I’m going to keep sharing, keep writing, and keep fighting for those of us who feel lost in the noise.

If you’re one of them, you’re not alone.

What do you think would help our community most?

Comment/Reply "pod" for podcast, "family" for community, or "author" for book. I’m all ears, guys! (Virtual ears 🙉).