The Dark Force Behind My Workaholism

For the longest time, I was a workaholic and proud of it. I used to think this was a sign of good mental health, or resilience. I used grit as my biggest flex and hung my sense of self upon it.

But in my younger years I was much less functional. In fact, there was a whole period of several months in my 21st year that I barely remember, as my depression was at it’s worst.

Some studies like Paula T. Hertel’s (2010), have suggested that the dampened cognitive control we experience with depression contributes to impaired memory. But the catch is we still remember the most emotionally negative experiences.

While I don’t remember what I was thinking during this period, I just know I was mostly in bed and not dealing with the world.

Scroll down my timeline to my late twenties and beyond (I’m almost 40 now) and my outer appearance has changed a great deal.

I’m not really sure quite how I became so high functioning. But for many years I was so functional that I even assumed I was free of my depression.

Perhaps I was trying to undo that low functioning period of time. I certainly didn't want to slip back to there.

A brief timeline of events

During my stressful first career in hospitality I got married at 26. I quickly wised up to my terrible choice and got divorced by 29. Then I got heavily into running, and raised the funds to run the New York Marathon before I turned 30.

This was the beginning of my new obsession with running. I even went to University also just before I turned 30, giving myself something of a life makeover.

During my time at University, I wrote my first book and started my new career in content marketing right after graduation.

On the outside, I looked like I was winning the game of life. My friends were impressed, and I revelled in that admiration.

Yet the driving force behind my actions was questionable.

Sure, some of what drove my achieving was good, healthy positivity and ambition for a better life. But there was a shadow side to it, and I’m only truly beginning to understand it now.

The great leveller

I truly believe the only reason I became aware of the darkness behind my motivation was the fairly recent onset of my chronic illness.

In the last 8 months, I’ve been through a barrage of tests, which have resulted in a preliminary diagnosis of post-viral chronic fatigue.

I don’t know if I had Covid-19, or any other virus for sure. I just know that I’ve been physically unable to function at my previous level for any of 2020 so far.

They say that every cloud has a silver lining. While my illness is a little too new and raw to truly feel like a blessing in disguise, it is starting to show me how my old way of being was harming me.

I never rested, never quit, and rarely stopped to smell the flowers. I’ve come to realize that it wasn’t just ambition driving me, it was the fact that my whole identity was built on being the girl who did everything.

I already knew that having a weak sense of self from my difficult childhood was the driver behind my bad relationship choices and subsequent failed marriage. But I hadn’t thought for a minute that the fragility of my identity was affecting all other areas of my life too.

It fed my ego that my friends considered me the ‘doer’. Even to the point that a couple of toxic friends would take full advantage of me being a ‘doer’ and rope me into all sorts of projects.

And it wasn’t that I couldn’t say no. It was that I didn’t say no, because I was playing this role of always being capable.

I hung my sense of self upon that role.

Where busyness comes in

So here’s the real kicker. When the chronic fatigue forced me to stop being such a doer, I was suddenly left sitting with myself.

No longer able to multitask, or stay too busy to feel my emotions... I was just me once again.

Not a superwoman, not anyone’s hero or inspiration, but just a girl in the world.

Life without workaholism

I didn’t know how to be just me, without the achievements and ego strokes. And I’ve not fully figured it out yet. It feels strange to be benched for this long, and it’s even stranger to feel my feelings about it.

The old me was too busy to really ever sit with my feelings. If something bad happened in my life, I had too much velocity to dwell.

My mission to learn marathon running was the perfect distraction from my failing marriage. By the time I got to the start line in New York, we were separated and the first round of paperwork was filed.

So how did I feel? I felt epic that I was running a freaking marathon. Meanwhile he was probably drinking somewhere with the same friends he always drank with, stagnating and doing nothing with his life.

Again, this could give you the impression that I was winning the game of life. But in truth, I was mainly ignoring the pain of life.

Where I am now

So now I find myself unable to run, or even to get through a full day’s work without taking a nap or two. I can’t run from myself, my feelings, or my depression either.

But luckily, I have writing, and this is an excellent way to process what’s going on in my life.

Sitting at my laptop I am able to capture my stream of thoughts and feelings. When I stop typing to pick up my tea, that gives me a moment or two to really feel what I’m feeling.

Actually, it’s quite nice not to be doing all the time. I think I quite like feeling after all.

I feel more balanced now that I’m not in my head all the time. I'm not trying to think my way out of feeling, or trying to motivate myself again before, God forbid, I start to dwell.

Moving forward

Maybe I’ve also been a little scared to return to that black hole I fell into in my 21st year, when I barely left my bed for months.

Perhaps this has all been one big, circular journey — a life lesson in striking the right balance. Not so slow that I fall into a pit again, and not so fast that the wheels come off and I crash.

I’m learning about living at a healthy pace. I hope that in a few months time I can write about this again, and confirm that I have indeed found a good balance. I want to create a stronger sense of self, just as I am.

If you identify as a workaholic, an overachiever, or somebody who keeps a little too busy, then I hope that this helps you to pause. Maybe you will even consider a change of pace.

It is better to choose that pause, rather than to have it forced upon you, if you can possibly help it.

The sooner anyone of us begins the gradual process of feeling our feelings one at a time and starting to process them, the better for our mental and physical health in the long term.