Why Writing Down Three Good Things Saved Me From Burnout

Let me take you back to a Tuesday that felt like a year. I was sitting at my kitchen table, laptop open, coffee gone cold—again—and a to-do list glaring at me like it knew I was about to fall apart. I wasn’t just tired. I was crispy. Burned out like a candle that had been left burning too long, flickering on fumes.

As someone who’s built a career on solving problems and optimizing life, I felt like a fraud. Life Hackr Daily was thriving, but I wasn’t. I knew something had to change. What I didn’t know then? A deceptively simple habit—one I initially rolled my eyes at—was about to change everything.

Here’s how the “Three Good Things” practice helped me rebuild my brain, restore my energy, and remind me how to feel human again.

The Anatomy of My Burnout

Before we dive into my own unraveling, let’s zoom out for a sec—because it’s not just me. According to a 2025 study published on Forbes, 66% of workers now report feeling burned out, the highest rate ever recorded.

And with return-to-office mandates piling on more stress? Yeah, it’s no wonder so many of us feel like we’re sprinting on empty.

I didn’t have a name for it at the time. All I knew was that something was off—and no amount of coffee or color-coded calendars was fixing it.

1. Warning Signs I Ignored

I brushed off constant fatigue as “just a busy season.” I told myself the irritability was caffeine withdrawal. I chalked up the brain fog to hormones. Deep down, I knew I wasn’t okay, but high-functioning burnout is sneaky. I was still meeting deadlines, still leading my team—but every task felt like wading through wet cement.

2. The Physical and Emotional Toll

My sleep was wrecked. I’d wake up at 3 a.m. thinking about things I forgot to do—or hadn’t done well enough. My shoulders felt permanently hunched. I was emotionally brittle, crying over printer jams or emails with the wrong tone. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt joy that didn’t come with guilt.

3. How Negativity Bias Amplified Everything Wrong

Our brains are wired to scan for danger—it’s called negativity bias. In burnout, that bias takes the wheel and goes joy-hunting with a flamethrower. I found myself obsessing over everything that went wrong: the glitch in a post, the awkward meeting, the thing I should’ve said differently five years ago.

4. The Moment I Knew Something Had to Change

It was a single line from my therapist: “Tessa, your brain isn’t broken—it’s exhausted.” That hit me hard. She suggested a tiny exercise: each night, write down three good things. I scoffed. But I was desperate enough to try.

The Little Trick I Almost Laughed Off but Tried Anyway

I didn’t go hunting for some magical gratitude hack. It found me—in a moment of desperation and open-minded surrender. This is how I stumbled into the practice that ended up rewiring everything I thought I knew about recovery:

1. Where I First Encountered This Technique

It wasn’t from a glossy wellness influencer—it was tucked inside a research paper on positive psychology. The “Three Good Things” practice was part of a study by Dr. Martin Seligman, and it showed surprising results in increasing happiness and reducing depression.

2. Initial Skepticism and Resistance

Honestly? It felt a little... silly. I was deep in burnout and you want me to list what went right? I barely made it through the day with clean hair. But I’d tried the big interventions: vacations, yoga, digital detoxes. None of it stuck. Maybe small was the way.

3. The Science Behind Gratitude and Positive Psychology

Turns out, there's science behind the magic. Gratitude activates the brain’s reward center and can literally change how your mind scans for experiences. It also lowers cortisol and boosts serotonin—aka the calm-and-happy chemicals I desperately needed.

4. Why This Specific Format Matters (Three Items, Written Down, Daily)

It’s the writing down part that makes it stick. Naming three things forces you to slow down, reflect, and rewire your mental filter. Three is just enough to stretch you without feeling like a homework assignment.

The Week Everything Felt Weird but Kinda Worked

Starting a new habit when you’re already drained? Not exactly glamorous. But I gave this one a shot—and it started to work in quiet, subtle ways.

Here’s what that first awkward, eye-roll-worthy week looked like:

1. What My Early Entries Looked Like

“Had hot coffee before it went cold.” “Saw a dog in sunglasses.” “Didn’t forget the Zoom password.”

Tiny things. Nothing earth-shattering. But they were real.

2. Struggling to Find "Good" in Bad Days

Some nights, I stared at my notebook for ten minutes. It felt performative. But even on bad days, there was usually something: a text from a friend, a breeze through the window, a funny meme. When I let those count, I started to soften.

3. The Difference Between Big Moments and Small Wins

I used to think gratitude had to be big: promotions, vacations, milestone moments. But that’s not sustainable. It’s the micro-wins—the hot tea, the unexpected compliment—that carry you. Learning to see those was like adjusting a lens.

4. How the Practice Felt Awkward at First

I won’t lie—it felt weird. A little forced. But so does going to the gym after a long break. I had to trust the process and keep showing up.

“Starting a journaling habit when you’re drained feels awkward, but capturing even the smallest moments—like finishing your coffee or a funny sight—can brighten your day. Writing these little wins transforms tough days into meaningful reflections, one page at a time.”

When My Brain Quietly Started Rewriting the Script

I didn’t expect to change—but I did. Slowly, my brain began to respond. I started noticing patterns, shifting focus, and picking up on the positives without even trying.

Let’s talk about what changed and how it stuck:

1. Week 2–4: Noticing Patterns in What I Wrote

I started noticing repeats: sunlight, good conversations, quiet mornings. Those became anchors. They helped me see what consistently brought me peace—even if the day was messy.

2. How My Attention Began to Shift Throughout the Day

Midway through week 3, I caught myself looking for good things, because I knew I’d need three later. That moment? That’s neuroplasticity in action. I was retraining my brain to scan for joy instead of stress.

3. The Neuroplasticity Aspect: Training the Brain to Notice Positives

Neuroplasticity is the brain’s ability to change its wiring. With repetition, the Three Good Things practice literally reshapes how your brain filters reality. It’s not about ignoring problems—it’s about balancing your perspective.

4. Unexpected Categories of "Good Things" That Emerged

Some surprises:

• Sensory joys (a warm towel, lavender hand soap)
• Kindnesses I’d overlooked (a team member covering for me)
• Moments of self-trust (saying no, asking for help)

Why This Isn’t Just Another Gratitude Trend

This isn’t your average “write five things you’re grateful for” fluff. There’s depth here—real resilience, clarity, and mental rewiring. The more I practiced, the more I uncovered the true impact of reflection done right.

1. How It Differs From Generic Gratitude Journaling

This isn’t about listing things you should be grateful for. It’s not about toxic positivity. It’s about noticing. It’s about finding real, lived moments that mattered to you, not anyone else.

2. The Power of Specificity and Reflection

Writing “I’m grateful for my partner” is fine. Writing “My partner made me tea while I worked late” is better. Specificity strengthens emotional recall, and reflection turns data into insight.

3. Building Resilience Muscle Memory

Each time I named a good thing during a hard day, I was reinforcing the idea that challenges aren’t all-consuming. That’s resilience—seeing the hard and the hopeful, side by side.

4. Creating a Personal Database of Positive Experiences

Now, I have pages of proof that my life is filled with tiny joys. On the days when I feel stuck or low, I flip back. My own words remind me: I’ve been here before. I’ve gotten through.

What I Did When Three Good Things Felt Impossible

Not every day is a “roses and sunshine” kind of day—and that’s exactly why this practice matters. On the hardest days, it became a lifeline. This is how I kept going, even when the good things were hard to find.

1. When Finding Three Things Felt Impossible

There were days when my entries looked like:

1. Got out of bed.
2. Ate food.
3. Showered.

And that was okay. This practice isn’t about impressing anyone. It’s about honesty and effort.

2. Adapting the Practice During Crisis Moments

During a personal loss, I couldn’t do full entries. So I voice-memo’d one good thing a day. The format can flex with your season.

3. The Importance of Accepting "Tiny" Good Things

Once, my only entry was “saw a bird hop funny.” That made me laugh—genuinely. And that counted. Small joy is still joy.

4. How the Practice Evolved During My Lowest Points

In my hardest months, I learned to count moments of self-compassion. “Didn’t beat myself up today.” That was good. That was enough.

The Unexpected Perks of Writing Down Tiny Wins

Once the fog lifted, I started to notice more than just mental clarity. Sleep, creativity, relationships—it all began to shift. Here’s what life looked like on the other side of consistent, tiny change:

1. Improved Sleep and Reduced Anxiety

Gratitude journaling reduced my bedtime spirals. I slept better when my last thoughts weren’t work worries but dog-in-sunglasses memories.

2. Better Relationships and Communication

I became more attuned to small kindnesses—and better at giving them back. My partner noticed. So did my team.

3. Enhanced Creativity and Problem-Solving

When my brain wasn’t constantly scanning for threats, it made space for ideas. I started writing more. Dreaming bigger.

4. A Fundamental Shift in Perspective and Resilience

Now, even on hard days, I trust there’s still something worth noticing. That shift? It changed how I live.

How I Kept Going Without Burning Out Again

One year in, the habit stuck—but not because I did it perfectly. It stuck because I made it mine. These are the lessons that helped me keep it going without burning out all over again.

1. How the Practice Has Evolved

Some nights I write three full paragraphs. Some nights it’s bullet points. The core remains: reflection, consistency, presence.

2. Maintaining Consistency Without Perfectionism

I’ve missed days. I don’t stress it. This isn’t a streak to keep—it’s a mindset to return to.

3. Teaching Others and Seeing Their Transformations

I’ve shared this with friends, team members, even my barista. The ripple effect has been wild. One teammate now includes it in her kids’ bedtime routine.

4. The Compound Effect of Small Daily Practices

Small doesn’t mean insignificant. Small means sustainable. And sustainable means powerful.

Hack Attack!

• Go Micro, Not Mega: You don’t need earth-shattering wins—tiny joys count (like matching socks or a green light streak).
• Set a Timer: Give yourself just three minutes a night. Constraints build consistency.
• Try Categories: One sensory win, one interaction, one self-acknowledgment—it helps mix things up.
• Use Voice Notes: Not a writer? Record your entries in your notes app or voice memos.
• Bad Days Count Too: Especially on rough days, don’t skip. That’s when the practice matters most.
• Flip Through the Archive: Need a boost? Rereading old entries can light a spark when your tank feels empty.
• Anchor to a Habit: Pair it with brushing your teeth or powering down your laptop. Anchoring = remembering.

From Burnt Out to Bright-Eyed

If you’d told me a year ago that writing down three good things a night would shift my entire perspective, I would’ve laughed—tiredly. But here’s what I’ve learned: small things, done consistently, rewire you. They give you the footing to rise, even when life feels wobbly.

This isn’t about ignoring the hard stuff. It’s about making space for the good to coexist with it.

So if you're running on empty, start here. Tonight. Three tiny things. One quiet moment of noticing.

That’s not fluff. That’s transformation, three lines at a time.

Let’s keep hacking life—cleverly, kindly, and one good thing at a time.

💙🩶,

Tessa