A Firefighter’s Struggle: My Journey Through Burnout and Back

By Ryan Provencher

My journey as a firefighter through burnout and back—where I discovered that recovery is possible and resilience can open the door to thriving on the other side of crisis.

Stress in the Fire Service - Part 1

Stress and burnout aren’t abstract concepts to me—they’re lived experiences. I’ve hit the breaking point not once, but three times in my career and personal life.

The first came at the end of my paramedic career, when years of high call volume and sleepless nights left me completely drained. The second came during my divorce, the lowest point of my life, when I felt broken in every way—physically, mentally, and emotionally. The third came years later, when administrative pressure and self-imposed expectations as a Training Division Chief pushed me back into burnout.

Each season felt overwhelming in its own way, but each also carried lessons. I don’t share this to dwell on struggle, but to show how burnout is real, recovery is possible, and resilience can create opportunities to thrive on the other side of crisis.

Hitting the Wall ON THE BOX

Paramedic school was equal parts exciting and terrifying. The training was relentless—long hours, endless skills to master, and constant pressure to perform on life-or-death calls.

At the same time, I was surrounded by great people. We laughed, studied, and struggled together, building bonds that carried me through.

After certification, I was immediately assigned a student of my own. Talk about imposter syndrome—I questioned daily whether I was truly ready. By my third year, I’d found my stride. Running calls, solving problems in real time, and seeing the impact on patients and families was deeply rewarding—even as the grind wore me down.

After six years of nonstop calls and sleepless nights, I hit the wall. The exhaustion was unshakable, and the job I once loved had become unsustainable.

Something had to give. I set my sights on the Company Officer test, driven by the need for a new direction. I went all in, convinced it was my only way forward. When I earned the promotion, the relief was immediate—it felt like both an escape and a fresh start.

Being a paramedic shaped me in ways I’ll always be grateful for. The challenges sharpened my skills, the calls built my confidence, and the responsibility shaped my perspective.

But it came with a price—the trauma, pressure, and relentless pace left scars I still carry. Those years helped shape me, but they also cost me in ways that can’t be denied.

The Breaking Point at Home

My divorce was the lowest point of my life. Already sidelined by a hip replacement, I was on sick leave when my marriage ended. I felt broken—physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I grew up in a loving home with two brothers and parents who were married for more than 50 years before my father passed away. I had dreamed of building the same kind of life. Watching that dream collapse left me devastated.

When my marriage broke down, feelings of joy, connection, and meaning were replaced by shame and failure. I leaned on alcohol and self-destructive habits to numb the pain, but nothing worked. I felt lost, depressed, and hopeless.

Then came a turning point. One day I told myself: Over the next six months, I will reclaim my life. It was a decision born of desperation—but also the first step toward healing.

I leaned on family and friends and returned to fitness and health. Piece by piece, I rebuilt what I had lost—my confidence, my independence, and the belief that I could stand on my own two feet again.

Along the way, I rediscovered friendships that had always been there and the simple joy of having fun again. Laughter, connection, and shared experiences reminded me that life wasn’t just about surviving hard seasons—it was about living fully on the other side of adversity.

That next summer was one of my best. I felt stronger—physically, mentally, and emotionally—than ever before. And just when I thought that chapter was closed, life surprised me with a second chance at family. I remarried, helped raise two stepsons, and found a depth of love and purpose beyond anything I’d imagined.

Burnout Behind the Desk

For years, I felt energized as the Training Division Chief. I was surrounded by great people, supported by leadership, and able to turn vision into action. The work was deeply rewarding. I loved the challenge and the progress we were making as a department, and I was sure this was where I’d finish my career.

But by my seventh year, things began to shift. Budgets, politics, leadership demands, and the weight of my own expectations piled up. The warning signs crept in—fatigue, irritability, detachment, even physical symptoms. I wasn’t the person I wanted to be at work or at home.

By my tenth year, I was overwhelmed, disappointed, and burned out. It felt like my tachometer was stuck at 7,000 RPMs, ready to redline at 9,000 with the slightest push. I even considered early retirement—or stepping down in rank—just to find relief.

Instead, I chose a different path. With encouragement from friends and colleagues, I threw myself into a new challenge: testing for Battalion Chief. It became my lifeline, and I gave it everything I had.

The move back into Operations as a Battalion Chief reignited my energy and gave me space to grow again. It reminded me that sometimes all it takes is a change of scenery to find new life.

As I approach retirement, I am filled with pride and gratitude for a long and rewarding career. In the middle of crisis, it’s hard to believe there’s light on the other side. But time has shown me that even the darkest seasons can give way to better days.

Finding Perspective

Looking back, I see the same pattern in every crisis—fear and uncertainty, struggle and renewal. The details were different, but the rhythm never changed: push to the edge, face the fallout, find a way forward.

Burnout doesn’t strike all at once; it builds up over time. And recovery isn’t about toughness—it takes awareness, humility, and action. The hardest seasons shape you in ways you can’t see until much later.

The times that nearly broke me were the ones that led to something better. Crisis brings challenge, challenge sparks reflection, reflection drives action—and action opens the door to a new chapter.

What turned the tide wasn’t one big change but a few simple, repeatable habits that built resilience over time.

In my next post, I’ll break those habits down—showing how firefighters can spot stress early, manage it before it turns into burnout, and come out stronger on the other side.

👉 Read Part 2: Performance Under Pressure – Proactive Stress Management for Firefighters