I love my job, genuinely. The issue is that I can’t stop caring and overthinking. Hours are longer than others, but not extreme. I’m not in investment banking or doing shift work. But I’m overworked by the pressure I put on myself. Nobody’s life is in danger, but it feels like mine will fall apart if I don’t complete this.

Relatively, I am small. A measly 20-something trying to make her mark on this business. My decisions won’t cost millions, and neither will I make that. But I am passionate and care all too much.

I’m starting to question why it’s so important, why work carves my identity, why it trumps everything else most of the time. I’m starting to be frustrated by issues that I used to see as opportunities. The physical and mental consequences of this overwork that results in expensive visits to the remedial masseuse every week. The hope and positivity from being naive and new is fading. I’m questioning if I’m on the right path, or what even is my path. I thought this was exactly what I wanted. But seems like my expectations weren’t met, or I shifted my mindset to painstakingly make it so important I have to care.

I was working later than usual on a Friday night and I started to feel sick. My body was telling me “no more” but my anxiety was piling more jobs on as urgent. A false narrative. Does it really matter this much? Maybe I can care less and still produce the same output. What a thought.

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