Burnout in JC: how I overcommitted and what I dropped

Most ambitious students think the danger is doing too little. For me, it was doing too much. I nearly burnt out in JC because I said yes to almost everything: committees, volunteering, clubs. The fix wasn’t working harder. It was dropping what I didn’t care about and seeing a few things through. Only then did my main JC leadership role take off.

What did my near-burnout actually look like?

It looked like losing all motivation, and not being able to get out of bed.

The signs were embarrassing. I snoozed my alarm 12 times in a day. I set an alarm for 8am and woke up at noon. I had no motivation left at all.

How did I get there? Shiny objects. In JC, mine were committees and volunteering, including with IMH and the Brain Tumour Society Singapore. On top of that, I’d signed up for an origami club and a dance class. Each one looked good on its own. Together, they left nothing for school, rest or friends.

What is shiny object syndrome?

Shiny object syndrome is chasing whatever new opportunity looks most exciting, before finishing the last one.

For a JC student, the shiny objects are everywhere. A competition. A new committee. A volunteering drive. A friend’s project. Each one is genuinely good. That’s the trap.

My case was severe. I’d get excited, commit, then get excited about the next thing. I jumped between opportunities and achieved little in most of them.

Saying yes feels productive. Every yes gives you a little hit of “I’m the kind of person who does a lot”. The cost shows up weeks later, all at once. For me, it showed up as that noon alarm.

How do I know if I’m burning out?

You’re probably heading there if you’re exhausted most days, starting to feel cynical about things you used to care about, and getting less done despite working more.

Quick honesty note: the World Health Organization defines burn-out as an occupational phenomenon, the result of chronic workplace stress that hasn’t been managed, and says the term shouldn’t be applied to other areas of life (WHO). So “student burnout” isn’t a formal diagnosis. But the WHO’s three dimensions map uncomfortably well onto JC life:

My own warning signs were the first row, loudly: no motivation, and an alarm I couldn’t answer. If two or three of these feel familiar, don’t wait for it to pass.

If it’s more than tiredness, talk to someone. Your school counsellor is a good start. You can also call national mindline 1771 or WhatsApp +65 6669 1771, any time of day or night, for free and confidential support from trained counsellors. You can stay anonymous if you prefer (mindline.sg; MOH).

Why do ambitious students overcommit?

Ambitious students overcommit because every opportunity looks like it might be the one that matters, and saying no feels like closing a door forever.

In JC there’s also a quiet arms race. Everyone seems to be leading something, competing in something, volunteering for something. You don’t want to be the one with a thin CV.

But a long list isn’t a strong record. Five half-finished things read like five half-finished things.

What did I drop, and what happened next?

I dropped the things I didn’t enjoy, and protected the people and the one role I cared about.

The origami club and the dance class went first. I wasn’t enjoying either, so they were easy cuts once I admitted it. The time I got back went to what I chose to prioritise instead: quality time with my schoolmates.

Only after refocusing did things turn around in the role I’d chosen to keep. I was President of the Mind Sports Society, which was at risk of closing. With my attention no longer split, membership grew from 35 to about 82. That kind of result needs you to stay put long enough to see it.

The order matters. The turnaround didn’t happen while I was overcommitted. It came after I stopped.

Which commitments should I drop?

Drop the ones you don’t enjoy, the ones you can’t see through to the end, and the ones that don’t serve the one or two things you want most this year.

I call this the finish-line filter. Run every commitment, current and new, through three questions:

1. Can I see this through to the end? Not “can I start it”. Can I finish it properly, at the standard I’d be proud of, alongside my A-level load?
2. What does it replace? Your week is fixed. A new yes is always a no to something else, often sleep, revision or your friends. Name the thing it replaces before you agree.
3. Does it serve what I really want? Pick your one or two priorities for the year (your A-levels are almost certainly one). If a commitment doesn’t feed them, it’s a shiny object.

A commitment that fails question 1 goes first. A commitment that fails questions 2 and 3 goes next. And if you simply don’t enjoy it, that’s allowed to be the reason. It was for me.

What’s left should be short. That’s the point. Pick your battles. Don’t boil the ocean.

How do you say no without burning bridges?

Say no early, say it clearly, and offer something small instead of something vague.

The worst no is the late one. Agreeing, then disappearing halfway, burns more goodwill than declining on day one. It also hurts the people relying on you.

Some lines that work:

• “I’d love to, but I can’t give it the attention it deserves this term. Can I help with one specific thing instead?”
• “I’m committed to [X] until it’s done. Ask me again after that.”
• “I’m going to say no so I don’t let you down later.”

If you’re already in too deep, hand over properly. Write down what you were doing, who to contact and what’s pending. A clean handover is how you leave with your reputation intact.

Learning to say no young is a skill. It’s far cheaper to learn at 17 than at 27, when the commitments are jobs and people’s livelihoods.

Does doing less hurt university or scholarship applications?

Doing fewer things well usually reads better than doing many things thinly.

Applications reward evidence of commitment and impact. You show that through depth: what changed because you were there, and what you learned. A role you quit halfway gives you nothing to say. A role you saw through gives you a story with numbers in it, like 35 members becoming about 82.

So you’re not trading achievement for rest. You’re trading a long list for a few strong stories.

Is some exploration still okay?

If you’re doing one CCA, your grades are steady and you’re curious about trying something new, go for it. This article is for the student whose calendar is full and whose energy is running out. Some exploration is healthy. The problem is never finishing anything, and never resting.