Expat Burnout is Real

After over a decade working with expats as a psychologist, I’ve started to notice certain patterns, not the obvious culture shock stuff but deeper psychological ones. The slow erosion. The stuff that shows up months or even years into the move.

At first, there’s momentum, curiosity and plenty of energy. But over time, the weight creeps in: Fatigue from constant adaptation; losing shared nuance in language; always being “on” in social situations; and never fully being known.

Clients describe it in different words, but it always sounds like this:

“I feel untethered.”

“I don’t know who I am here.”

“I’m tired, and I don’t know why.”

This isn’t just stress. It’s not quite depression either. In my opinion this is identity fatigue.

You’ve shed so many layers trying to fit in, there’s no baseline left. And here’s the part no one talks about: The guilt.

Because this was supposed to be an adventure. And now you’re somewhere between floating and disappearing.

From what I’ve seen, expat burnout isn’t a sign you failed. It’s a sign you’re still evolving. And still needing grounding, routine, and connection.

What People Do When Expat Burnout Creeps In

Over time, I’ve noticed some common ways expats unconsciously respond to burnout:

1. They Stay Busy

They double down on productivity, hobbies, new routines.
Structure becomes a survival strategy—until it becomes another source of pressure.

2. They Numb Out

Food, alcohol, dating apps, scrolling. Not necessarily in excess, but in repetition.
It becomes less about enjoyment, more about softening the noise in the background.

3. They Fantasize About Leaving

Not always going home—just anywhere else.
New country, new start, clean slate. But the pattern follows if the root’s not addressed.

4. They Withdraw

Social energy tanks.
They start canceling plans, avoiding messages, skipping community spaces that once felt exciting.

5. They Tell Themselves They’re Fine

Because they should be.
Because they’re lucky.
Because others have it harder.
Because talking about this stuff feels dramatic.

What Actually Helps (Over Time)

·       Ritual — not just routine, but meaning-based repetition. Something grounding.

·       Connection — not more people, but truer ones. Fewer masks.

·       Permission — to be tired, to be confused, to not know what’s next.

·       Stillness — long enough to hear what’s actually wrong under the surface noise.

Not a fix-all. Just a place to start.