I am a hard worker. For years, I pushed through for others—colleagues, friends, and bosses. Even when overwhelmed or unwell, I’d find ways to keep going, putting myself at everyone’s disposal and burning myself out in the process.
As I’ve grown older, become a husband and father, and seen connections reduced to ash, I’ve realised that the one disposable element in all of this has been me and my health.
Now, I’m at a crossroads. My health is declining, my efforts to care for it have waned, and mental fatigue is taking me back to a place I know too well—thoughts of worthlessness, reliance on alcohol as a coping mechanism, loss of interest in hobbies, and a colder face to the outside world, while a storm rages within.
The mask I wear is worn thin, and I silently scream into the void… no more!
My blood work isn’t as healthy as it should be, my weight is creeping up, the cracks in my masking for ADHD are showing, and I find myself staring blankly at nothing for hours, feeling worn out and exhausted.
This time, I won’t just push through that thorny hedge created by an uncaring, distant workforce or boss. I have to be better this time for someone infinitely more important and precious.