Resigning to a New Reality: Burnout, C-PTSD, and Quitting
For a six-footer, walking away sounds like it should be easy, breezy, beautiful. Bigger steps = more ground covered in less time, right? However, walking away is something that’s always been harder for me, figuratively.
The Struggle of Walking Away: Breaking Perfectionism Cycles
Unfortunately, I am frequently the victim of the sunken cost fallacy (thanks for pointing that out, Professor Kennedy). I like to reframe it as I’m just too loyal, despite what 2014 Chris Brown might say. But that might just be my denial talking.
It’s officially been one month of leaving my job…Some days, it feels longer since I said goodbye. Other days, it feels as though it was last week.
And on my bad days, errr…my “self-reflective” days, I ask myself: how did I get here? When did I exchange a job for a diploma? Kinda embarrassing, honestly.
The month of May barged in, reminding me that graduation was around the corner, and with it, thoughts about the next step in my career. Mainly, would I stay or would I go? And if I stayed, why? If I left, where?
The Cocktail of Chronic Stress: The Hidden Impact on Health
Just shy of nine years, my career consisted of moving up in the department I was hired on right after undergrad. Constantly collecting new projects like Beanie Babies kept me at a constant upwards trajectory of learning, pivoting, and pushing at 110% to keep up with an ever-increasing work plate. It made sense that as my workload increased, my arrival towards burnout expedited. Sprinkled on top of that plate with the exciting yet spicy graduate school seasoning, and I arrived at my unforeseen yet predictable destination of Burnout City.
In retrospect, EARLIER boundaries AND self-advocacy would’ve helped. In an industry that prioritizes literal people-pleasing over healthy boundaries and clear priorities, it created a feedback loop that fed and validated my survival coping mechanisms of perfectionism and overachieving.
Even as I started noticing trends (thanks, therapy) and started communicating more boundaries, it was hard to shift people’s acceptance of my shift towards self-care. People saw it as a pushback, resistance, a lack of “initiative.”
The thing about burnout is that it’s easier to prevent but very difficult to treat. Add anxiety, depression, and C-PTSD and you have the not-so-perfect cocktail of chronic cortisol. I had a new waistline to prove it.
Naturally, a problem-solver like me played brain tetris and gymnastics to find the best solution. And it figures I’m no mental Simone Biles, because I couldn’t find a solution that let me have my cake and eat it too. Ironically, I found what felt like the worst option.
“As has been the theme of my more recent life in the MBA, I realized that there was a third and, unfortunately to the ever anxious and self-doubt filled self, uncomfortable option that would require the expansion of the ever-threatened comfort zone. ”
Taking the Leap: Why I Left My Job Without a Backup Plan for My Mental Health
This third option: leaving without a plan A, B, or C. Instead I would live out plan Z: live in the present. Figuring it out as we go. Taking a chance on myself. Asking AND advocating for more while taking care of myself. SIGH. And I thought grad school was hard.
But why? Why was this an option? What kind of MBA grad makes the financially dumb decision to quit without a back-up plan?
Well, if mental health isn’t a good enough excuse for you, add in the idea of wanting more and better. Scratch that, deserving more. I had done just about everything in my department. I had outgrown it. I needed to be seen and valued.
Taking a risk on yourself is a bold statement. It is saying you deserve more. I might have invested nine years into a career I never knew existed and a $100K for a MBA degree to learn that lesson so consider this a gift from me to you at the high price of free ninety-nine.
Restoring Balance to Breathe, Trust, and Pause: Embracing the Power of Rest
Now on the other side of that decision, every day is different. Some days feel too hard to take risks, to bet on myself, with the additional stress of pending bills and regret. I feel like a failure before even starting. Starting feels overwhelming. I want to do it all and none of it at the same time. It’s a constant battle of wanting to bury my feet into my old perfectionist habit of overachieving while recognizing the need to just stay put. The whiplash that comes with the split desires is exhausting.
But other days, I’m happy to just BREATHE. And that’s really the point of this *signals around me* mini existential crisis of learning how to rest and be present.
Some pictures of my “glimmers,” my “taking it all in,” “it’s okay to be here” moments. ^^^And then on other days, the job hunt begins because realistically, I still need to eat and health care out of pocket is expensive when you have weekly therapy…
The Courage to Rest: My Mental Health Journey with C-PTSD
Almost as though through divine timing, I found myself watching Simone Biles’ Netflix documentary, just as she takes and dominates the world stage again. A reminder that even when the whole world, and your own voice, may say “don’t stop,” the courage it takes to say “let’s pause” is powerful. That pause, that breath, that moment to yourself…it can make all the difference. And you may always have the neigh-sayers who tell you “shoulda, coulda, woulda” from the other end of a screen, never to have looked you in your eyes, never to have felt your panicked heartbeat race into heartbreak, mind spin, and suffocation creeping, who will always think they know better. Think, never know.
And yet, amongst the criticism, there’s always a storyline that is dim at first before it’s found, before it glows and shines so brightly it can’t be ignored. Because it’s not just your decision or storyline, it’s the one of so many people, just like you, who collectively take that pause, breath, moment, and sigh of relief with you…you will be okay, maybe later, maybe another day, month, year from now, but still, later.
This reflection isn’t about quitting your job. It’s about remembering to breathe. Sometimes it’s in the silence that you hear who you are most clearly.
You are brave. You deserve better. You can trust in yourself.
Don’t believe this scatterbrained author? Okay, yeah, that’s fine. I’m quite the skeptic myself. So at the risk of sounding like a salesperson, don’t take my word for it. Here’s are not even half of my coworkers’ responses (spoiler alert: they’re supportive) when I announced my “sudden” (one month in advance) departure.
I’ll try not to cry again…
