Confessions of a Workaholic

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She was elated. A pay rise and a promotion, what more could she ask for? Her colleagues congratulated her as she sauntered around her bay. Envy, hero worship, jealousy… she saw it all as she floated a tad bit higher with no urgency to set her feet firmly back on the ground. Oh yes! She was on top of the world. And why shouldn't she be? She was the Go To person for everything in the team – client meetings, strategic presentations, performance reviews, recruitment, team building activities; an eyelid wouldn't bat without her presence.

From the corner of her eye she saw her boss beckon for the leadership call while he left for a family dinner. How could the management strategize without her? She glanced at her phone only to see a dozen missed calls from her best friend, it was her birthday dinner that night.  With growth comes higher responsibility she told herself, friends could wait, after all birthdays came every year.

She got back to work with the empty office desks giving her company. Oh! She loved the solitude; it gave her those eureka moments that stamped each deliverable with success. Late night was definitely the best time to work. Being the last to leave and the first to come in, the office felt like her kingdom, waking up to her presence and calling it a day only after she left. Coffee was her trusted companion, while, sleep, her worst enemy.

Life could wait she said dousing with nonchalance all the disappointed looks and the glares she got from her near and dear ones. But this team needed her and would collapse without her, she was convinced. Heck, she wasn't called Atlas for nothing! There wasn't enough time to finish her work, how could she settle down? She asked her mother. If they hadn't already given up, they did now much to her satisfaction.

The laptop and phone held fort on weekends, but the food at home just did not make the cut. Of course it was her favorite office meal of coffee and noodles that she missed, making the drive back to office well worth her while.

If only her eyes wouldn't hurt so much she thought, or the world look so hazy every time she lost her balance. Come to think of it, it was happening rather often.  She quickly pushed those thoughts out of her mind; ignoring the pain she felt each time she looked at her beloved screen.  Life couldn't get any better than this she convinced herself and wished it would never end.  Little did she know how often her colleagues sent out the same prayer; their personal lives had become heaven with her in the team.

Months went by and their prayers continued to be answered. She was the life of the office like her colleagues were at the weekend parties. The company took pride in its culture of work-life balance; only she seed while the others sawed.

Her workload kept rising, so did the blurriness in her vision and the pain in her temples. Engrossed in her work and busy ignoring the pain she did not notice how time went by and before she knew it, it was recruitment season. Her boss was on a hiring spree that ended with five hires one of who was a girl with mannerisms similar to hers, but she was too dazed to notice. That day she collapsed in her cabin and had to be rushed to the nearest clinic. Her colleagues had anticipated this day would arrive, when was the question they often debated over.

After a thorough examination the doctor looked into her heavily circled pale eyes -“It is an extreme case of burnout” he said, characterized by low blood pressure, severe headaches and visual strain. Most workaholics suffer from one, you just need to stop being one to recover”, the doctor continued. Workaholic… is that what she had become? Is that what everyone had been trying to warn her about? She turned to her colleague who, at that moment, found the doctor’s certificates to be far more interesting than her questioning look. The ‘I-told-you-so’ look stared back at her from all corners as she stumbled back home. She was advised a month’s rest to recover, a month away from the only life she knew.

It was tough during the first week, her withdrawal symptoms being worse than those of a drug addict. She religiously called her boss every day. Her colleagues called in to wish her a speedy recovery but soon the phone went silent. Did they not miss her anymore? Unable to comprehend she decided to take a reluctant vacation, something unheard of; the question however kept coming back as she introspected. More she thought in silence, louder the voices of her family and friends got. Returning refreshed she decided to make up for the lost moments.

Finally the calendar page turned and it was time to report back to work. She was eager to return to her kingdom. She had missed it… but also discovered the value of life outside of it, and would very soon within it. Her kingdom seemed to have changed in the short span of her absence; nothing was the same, all her work was taken over. She no longer seemed to hold the “Go To” title that she was so proud of. Her boss was happy to see her back, but he was busy delegating all work to his latest Go To person, the new girl. Her colleagues welcomed her but were equally happy their weekend parties had continued. No one seemed to have felt her absence. She believed she was always the anchor, but the ship had indeed sailed – business continued as usual.

Being a workaholic does not make anyone indispensable; in fact no one can be indispensable. There is always someone who can do the job. How, is a different question. She wondered how long it would take for the new girl to realize this pearl of wisdom. It had taken her long enough.

It was time for a coffee break. She headed to the pantry with the rest crooning about the new girl and how relieved they were to have her in the team. This used to be about me, she thought, taking a sip of the coffee and making a mental note to speak to the admin team about it; the coffee had never tasted this horrible.