How Work Keeps Breaking Me
And Why I Still Can’t Stop
I work to live, not live to work.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
But I never seem to run out of excuses to work myself sick.
Here’s my (messy) story.
Why?
Why do I always have to work way beyond my limitations?
The answer to it changed with each new phase of my life. And I am not sure if the answer was ever 100 % authentic.
When I started working, I wanted it all.
I wanted the money.
I wanted the power.
I wanted the titles.
Why?
Officially, I’d produce some heroic reasons.
“I’ve had so many asshole bosses, so I wanted to prove you could be a boss without mutating into walking and talking rectum.”
Or:
“I want to help people. Make them comfortable. Help them achieve their goals. That’s why I want to be a boss.”
And while those reasons had truth to them, the biggest reason of them all was:
I never had anybody who believed in me.
Well, except my grandmother. God, how much I admire this angel.
But other than that, I wanted to raise a metaphorical middle finger to all the people who have put me down over the years.
Petty? Absolutely.
Human? Even more so!
Especially for somebody who's been psychologically damaged from childhood on.
So, I worked myself to the edge of burnout to show them I am superior.
Funny enough, I am not in contact with these people anymore.
So, in truth, I was only trying to convince myself of my superiority.
That was almost 10 years ago.
I followed the leadership path for mostly the wrong reasons. But it turned out to be the right choice, after all.
I was able to build a great team on trust, empathy, and competence.
In a sense, I did prove to myself you didn’t have to be a prick to be a respected manager.
I was also able to help people with their professional issues, even with some personal ones.
I achieved everything I wanted; more than anybody (myself included) ever expected.
What did it get me?
I don’t think my success ever hurt the people who used to hurt me.
It did help me realize that power and money did not heal me. Neither did they make me happy.
And still, that old nagging voice in the back of my head was still hungry. Still feeding on my inferiority complex.
And another one of my traits grew exponentially: My tendency to people-please.
People sought me out for all sorts of questions. Trying to be a good person, I helped them. At the expense of my own energy.
To the point I felt responsible; not only for my team’s professional success, but also for their personal well-being.
So kept investing more time into something that was supposed to be a side-quest of my life.
And the outcome?
The more people liked me, the less I liked myself.
With time, I learned to deal with my excessive people-pleasing.
As a leader, I learned to say no to protect myself. I even learned to argue with the highest managers to protect my team.
Important managers started to resent me. But I started to like myself more. Because I did it for the right reasons.
And it was one of the most honest and noble things I have done in my life. With very few ulterior motives.
Well, I got fired.
Right while building my house and expecting my second child.
So I did what I always do: I work myself to the bone to fix a problem I created myself.
I bombarded companies with spotless CVs and convinced the hell out of them in job interviews.
But due to the financial crisis in Germany, I was only able to get a temporary job as a regular technical writer. The pay was good enough to pay the mortgage, though.
When I started, I had only one goal: Make that job permanent.
You guessed it: The job took a much more important place in my life than I was comfortable with.
It had to. I couldn’t afford to lose the house I haven’t even finished building. My family depended on me.
The weight of my own little world lay heavily on my shoulders.
So, I worked 10-hour days, helped every way I could, and started initiatives left and right.
The team quickly liked me, and I liked them, too.
Soon, they knew how competent I was. My boss did everything to hire me permanently.
A reason to celebrate.
A reason to calm down and start to work to live, instead of the other way around.
Or is it?