Unlearning Burnout
It’s been five weeks since I realised just how unwell I was. I’d been working myself into the ground, unable to manage the personal life admin, and becoming outrageously irritable with the people I love most. I’m grateful I recognised it and did something about it. I was exhausted, lifeless, yet still spending what little energy I had on masking how bad things really were.
Now, five weeks on and five therapy sessions in, I’m beginning to understand how much of my self-worth I had tied to my work identity and external validation. I’m learning that work shouldn’t be the defining factor in our lives. In that part of my world, I am disposable, and when I took time off, I truly felt that way.
Understanding why I’ve associated my worth with external validation has been both enlightening and deeply personal. I never fully appreciated how much our adult behaviour is shaped by childhood experiences. Exploring mine has felt like stepping into unfamiliar territory. I’ve always been good at functioning—smiling, staying upbeat—and because I appeared fine, I never considered how many untreated childhood wounds I might be carrying. It’s overwhelming at times, like a fruit salad of emotions.
There’s the love I feel for my mum, who passed away in 2023. But alongside that love, there’s confusion and frustration about her being away from home, away from us. It feels like a double heartbreak: the grief of her loss and the painful realisation that, at times, I felt unwanted. It’s a lot to process. It sits uncomfortably in my stomach, like something unsettled and wriggling inside.
I was loved. And I loved her—I still do. Healing the wounds of my childhood doesn’t erase that love. If anything, it deepens it. It helps me understand her better, and that is something truly precious. But she’s just one part of what feeds this sense of unworthiness I’m still working to unlearn. There are many layers to it.
Still, she’s the one I miss most. I miss her laugh, her humour, the way she used food to bring people together. I miss her guidance when life feels hard. These things will never leave me. They’re etched into my memory, and I can carry them forward in how I live. And that’s a beautiful thing.
