My complicated relationship with work goes back as far as I can remember. I once got struck with the flu as a 10 year old kid, and I still remember sobbing uncontrollably in front of the door, begging my mom to let me go to school – because I really really really didn’t want to miss a day of school. I was the only kid in my high-school class that actively pursued after-school tutoring to improve my grades from A’s to A+’s. Birthdays, holidays and family events – I mostly bailed on them, because I just really, desperately wanted to study. As a student in college, I would more often than not come home at 4am after an evening of partying at the sorority, to then continue my night with studying until morning lectures started again.
Studying gave me a sense of direction and control, in an otherwise uncontrollable life: my home-life was a mess with constantly fighting parents, a disabled sister and a lack of true connection with other people. My parents tried their best with what they knew, so I don’t blame them – but I really was on my own emotionally. My way to cope with all of the chaos was to just study harder. Studying gave me a sense of identity: I was Nathalie, the person that would outwork anybody. And I always got complimented for it – by my parents, by teachers, by friends, by professors
When I started working, the same pattern followed. Bosses loved my dedication; I was always the first in, the last out, the one who went above and beyond. I believed it was ambition, and I wore it as a badge of honor. It never occurred to me as strange that literally all of my ‘mental real-estate’ would be occupied by work. It was truly the only thing I ever thought and cared to talk about. Every minute not spent either at work or thinking about work was a minute wasted.
Since I would spend every waking second either working or thinking about my work, even when I was out with friends or family, I actually became totally emotionally unavailable and lost all ability to feel connected, purposeful or seen. Over the years, I became more and more depressed. But I kept on thinking: if I just work a little harder, I will one day get the recipe right and all my feelings of unworthiness, loneliness, disconnectedness and sadness will just go away.
When work becomes harmful
And the thing is: working hard(er) is not inherently bad. It can be wonderful and very rewarding. But people underestimate how even a thing like work can become an addiction. Like anything, if it releases dopamine in your brain, you can become addicted to it.
The challenge with work addiction is that society celebrates it. As Stanford-trained psychiatrist Dr. Anna Lembke points out, work addiction is not just accepted—it’s rewarded, often in tangible, material ways.
So, when does hard work stop being healthy? Deep down, I think you know. Like knowing when drinking is no longer “just for fun”. I knew – but I wasn’t ready to admit it. There were many therapists over the last 15 years that tried to tell me that I had an incredibly unhealthy relationship with my work – and I just wrote them off as them ‘not getting my ambitions because they were just psychologists who had no real understanding of achievement.
In truth, I was in denial because I was too scared to let go of the addiction. I feared that letting go of my obsession would leave me mediocre—just another “normal” person with no drive and no achievements. Or maybe, deep down inside, I understood that letting go of my work addiction meant opening that can of worms that I so desperately tried to avoid. It was easier to remain in a ‘dream world’, a world where working hard would eventually make me so successful that all of the hard feelings magically disappeared and I would finally feel seen, connected, purposeful, confident and appreciated.
My breaking point
It was when I became a mom of twins 2 years ago, that my house of cards started falling apart. I continued working as hard as ever – only now I had 2 kids that started mirroring the costs of my choices back to me. At one point, when I came home again after an endless workday, feeling depressed and dissociated and obsessed with work, my kids didn’t want me to pick them up. They cried for the nanny instead of me. That was a wake-up call. For the first time, I saw the reality as it was: that it was my obsession with work that kept me disconnected from others, nothing else. It hit me like a ton of bricks that at this point, that if I would continue the way I did, I would hurt not only myself but the people I loved most.
That realization 1 year ago has been the start of a journey of change. I took an extended break from work and went to a residential treatment. There I learned that my behaviour had nothing to do with ambition, but that it simply was a coping skill to deal with all the feelings of sadness, loneliness and emptiness that I felt ever since my childhood.
In recovery
Looking back, I now see that work addiction, like any addiction, thrives in the shadows of denial. It’s easy to stay in denial when you’re constantly validated and praised for ‘how hard you work’ and ‘how ambitious you are.’ For me, the first and most challenging step was recognizing that my work behavior was no longer healthy—it had become destructive.
If you resonate with my story, ask yourself: Is my work truly a source of fulfillment? How do I talk about my job—am I constantly complaining without even realizing it? Am I prioritizing work over everything else, all the time?Breaking through denial was the hardest step for me because I was so blind to my own behavior.
But what happens after that? The journey to recovery is one I’m still navigating. On my blog, I’ll share my ongoing experiences of breaking free from work addiction—from attending residential treatment to discovering practical tools and embracing hard-won lessons. What I’ve learned so far is this: we’re not alone in this struggle, and it is possible to reclaim a life filled with contentment and fulfillment—both in work and beyond.