Burnout makes you do weird things. You start Googling retreats you can’t afford. You download five productivity apps you’ll never open. You lie in bed doom-scrolling, convincing yourself you’ll magically feel better tomorrow. Or, if you’re me, you open ChatGPT at 1 am and ask it to become your life coach.
That might not seem strange by today’s standards, but it is a weird move for me. I’ve been critical of this kind of thing. I’ve written before about how ChatGPT shouldn’t replace a therapist or be used to make serious life decisions. I also know how sycophantic it can be – too flattering, too agreeable, and way too eager to please.
But I was curious. With my background and understanding of how this tool works, I wanted to see what it could offer when I was in a rut. Because, despite my skepticism, I’ve found ChatGPT to be genuinely helpful in some work situations, like getting unstuck on a blank page or brainstorming title ideas. Even if the suggestions aren’t perfect, they jolt me into new ways of thinking. Could it do the same for burnout and an overwhelming job list?
The experiment
I didn’t want OTT encouragement or for ChatGPT to simply parrot back what I said. I was overwhelmed, procrastinating, and spiralling into yet another loop of perfectionism and paralysis. I needed a reset and had a busy day ahead of me.
Here’s what I typed:
“Act as a no-nonsense life coach with decades of experience. I’m stuck in a burnout loop – overthinking, procrastinating, perfectionism, the works. Ask me questions that will help me get clear. Give me uncomfortable advice. Don’t hold back.”
This prompt gave ChatGPT clear instructions: the role it should play, the emotional context, and the symptoms I was experiencing. I’d seen people on TikTok asking ChatGPT to “roast” them. But that wasn’t what I was after. I didn’t want cruelty, I wanted clarity. So I specifically asked for “uncomfortable advice.”
To my surprise, it delivered:
“First, the Reality Check: You’re not stuck because you’re lazy. You’re stuck because you’re addicted to the high of potential and afraid of the mess of execution. You’re probably more comfortable planning a million perfect futures than living even one imperfect present. That ends now.”
Reading that felt like a jolt, in a good way. One of my biggest challenges is planning multiple perfect outcomes and then getting too busy to follow them through. This was hardly a mystery. I’d run a new business direction through ChatGPT just the week before and asked it to identify any blind spots. But still, the way it worded this reality check felt positive.
Getting to work
Then came the questions:
“Let’s strip this down. Answer these clearly — no poetic hedging:
1) What exactly are you avoiding right now? (Not just “work” — I mean the specific task, email, pitch, project.)
2) What do you pretend is ‘not ready yet’ that’s actually ready enough to ship? (Where are you hiding behind “refining” as a way to delay judgment?)
3) Who or what are you trying to impress, and why do they get that much power? (Be honest. Your inner critic? Some imagined version of your peers? Social media?)
4) If I told you you weren’t allowed to be perfect, only consistent, what would change?What are you afraid will happen if you succeed? (Fear of success masks as procrastination all the time.)”
I answered them. Not perfectly, but quickly and honestly without judgment. And then came the action plan:
“Now, Here’s the Uncomfortable Advice:
You don’t need more time, tools, or insight. You need constraint, commitment, and consequence.
So do this, starting today:
1) Set a timer for 25 minutes and finish the ugliest version of whatever you’re avoiding. Done > perfect. You’re not allowed to ‘tweak.’
2) Pick one project. Kill the rest (for now). You’re diluting your energy across too many branches.
3) Set a public deadline. You care too much about perception? Use it. Announce your deadline somewhere you respect.
4) Set a cost for not following through. Money, embarrassment, accountability — something that stings.”
It was exactly what I needed: clarity, accountability, and constraint. No tools or new habits. Just a simple, uncomfortable nudge to act.
I said I would do all of these things, and then it followed up:
“Now tell me: What are you doing in the next 2 hours? I want a specific action and a timestamp. No fluff.”
I’m happy to say this really worked. I felt motivated, I’d prioritized what to tackle, and the tangle of jobs in my head felt a bit more manageable.
But then it fell apart
After getting some work done, I went back to ChatGPT for another hit of motivation. But this time, the advice felt… off. Generic and even a little bit cringeworthy.
“Perfectionism is just fear wearing a fancy outfit: No one gives a shit if your work is perfect. They care if it’s useful, moving, and consistent. Your obsession with making it flawless is a self-protective delay tactic. It’s cowardice with a good vocabulary. And it’s holding you back.”
Sure, that’s true. But it didn’t land. Even the wording felt like I see ChatGPT write LinkedIn updates. It was the same with this one:
“You’re too available to other people and too unavailable to yourself: Saying yes to everyone else because you don’t want to disappoint them? That’s self-abandonment. You’re trading your future for their temporary approval. Who are you betraying yourself for right now?”
That’s just not what I’m struggling with right now. So it felt hollow and unhelpful. But to be fair, what did I expect? I write all the time about how ChatGPT isn’t magic or a mind-reader. It’s actually just a prediction machine that cobbled together this advice from all sorts of blog posts, Reddit threads, articles, and countless other materials online. So what I’m saying is, it’s not going to step in as a full-time, nuanced burnout coach.
But it did get me moving for a few hours. It gave me a little clarity, a nudge toward action, and a simple plan when I really needed one.
Use it but carefully
This little experiment showed me what I already sort of knew. ChatGPT is great as a starting point for lots of things, including burnout support and getting me motivated to tackle a busy afternoon of work. But it’s hardly a solution or a substitute for proper help.
That’s an important point, as there are serious concerns around using ChatGPT as a coach or emotional support tool. We know it can be sycophantic, inconsistent, and lull you into a false sense of understanding – or worse, dependence. Some reports even suggest that repeated emotional use could lead to delusion and psychosis.
If you’re clear-headed and have support around you, ChatGPT might give you the nudge you need to take action. But don’t expect it to carry you the whole way. And that advice applies whether you’re using it for emotional support or just to write a report.