Her travel memories

4 minutes

Hey, to everyone interested in my story and joining me on this journey — welcome. Last time I talked about my burnout diagnosis and how I ended up needing to have it diagnosed. But today, let’s talk about what it felt like. 

For me, burnout crept in silently. Sure, there were lots of signs — but I mean, getting tired, stressed, and overworked is expected in my line of work, and I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one in that case. So yeah, I was tired. I had constant headaches. And when my alarm went off in the morning, I felt like I hadn’t slept at all. I would just stare straight ahead for some time, not looking at anything in particular, just trying to gather myself, my mind, and find the will to move my body and get ready.

I probably started burning out in March 2024. It was right in the middle of peak season at work. To give you some perspective: in 2023, there were four of us working on the job. In March 2024, we were only two — and my (one and only) colleague got sick. That left me responsible for everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything.

In March 2023, I wasn’t a senior yet, so I wasn’t in charge. I had a senior. My colleague wasn’t sick. We also had a full-time intern. Sure, our clients were late delivering some of the documents we needed, but it was still manageable. In March 2024, I was a senior. My audit manager had quit. That left me in charge. There weren’t enough interns to go around, and I was one of the unlucky ones who didn’t get any help. Like I said, my colleague got sick — so I had to go to the client’s office alone and start the audit.

I had to go through their entire financial records for the year 2023 by myself and start testing them. Some of you might know what that means and understand how huge a task it is. For the rest, imagine this: you’re alone in a room (often dimly lit), trying to pretend everything is fine, telling the client that your colleague is just delayed by another assignment (because god forbid we admit we’re human and get sick). You’re under pressure to analyze every financial transaction of the year. It’s like if you had to keep every invoice, grocery receipt, pay slip, and bank record for an entire year — and match every movement in your account to the supporting documents. That’s what I did. Alone. For a firm whose monthlytransactions outnumber what you go through in a year.

On top of that, I was responsible for managing the job — which meant creating the testing sheet, listing every procedure we needed to run, assigning the tasks (though we were only two), reviewing everything once completed, and handling the mandatory admin documentation for each audit. My management was not really there to help. I had weekly calls with them where I was expected to report on each assignment and give a status update. I also had to keep track of all deadlines and internal information communicated while I was at the client’s office. It was a lot to carry. Sometimes, I’d just go blank and stare at my computer screen, trying to remember what I had been doing. I also started working at night to try and meet the deadlines.

You might ask, “Why didn’t you tell your management?” Well, I did. I told them we weren’t going to deliver on time, that we were too far behind, that the workload was insane — we’d gone from four people to two. My director just smiled and said, “Well, one Lizzie is worth two of your former colleagues.”
Yeah.

At that time, I started getting migraines. I dreaded the Teams notification sound. Sometimes I would just start crying at my desk for no reason. But I kept going. I thought it wouldn’t last — just one bad season and then things would go back to normal.
How wrong I was

The 2024 season was finally over. We delivered our work, with some delays — but still, we made it. At the price of our sleep, our bodies, our minds.

Once the season ends, it’s time for your performance review. The company holds this huge meeting where managers gather to rank every staff member by performance. They might not know you. They might not have worked with you. That was my case — I had no manager on my assignments. But they discuss you anyway.

Now that I think about it, the system is completely unfair. Most managers never set foot onsite. They don’t know the reality of the job. They don’t know what difficulties you’ve faced. They don’t see the long hours, the nights spent alone in hotel rooms. They just see the final files (barely reviewed sometimes). Still, they rank you — and let’s be honest: personal preference plays a big part.

After this “almighty meeting,” each staff member gets a personal appointment to discuss their evaluation and whether they’ll be promoted. These meetings mostly serve to remind you about the company’s performance culture and to make you feel valued enough to stay. That’s why they have partners spend a whole 30 minutes with you — to make you feel special.

And the truth is: it worked.

By July, I was running on empty. I’d been crying in front of my screen, sleeping poorly, having mental blackouts. But when I sat in that office, with the partner telling me I’d done a great job and that the firm was counting on me — I felt it was all worth it.
Even if just for 30 minutes.
How pathetic is that?

Looking back, I wish I could scream at the girl sitting in that chair. I’d tell her: They’re playing you. They don’t really care. This is just how the system works.
But I can’t go back. And that girl? She felt proud. She was determined to do even better next year.
So she stayed.
For another season.

Thank you so much for reading my story.
If this resonated with you, I’d truly love to hear from you — whether it’s in the comments or in a DM.

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