Her travel memories

To everyone still reading — thank you.
I started writing because I needed to get this story out of my body. But if it resonates with you, please feel free to reach out. I’d love to talk.
And please, no judgment.
Some of you may not understand how I let it get this far.
I don’t blame you.
It took me six months of therapy to understand it myself. The truth is, when you’re living it, when you’re going right through it : you don’t realise it. You don’t have time to pause, take a step back and add some perspective. So you just keep going.

Until you can’t anymore.

Since March 2024, I had no personal life. My weekends were for catching up on work — or sleep. I was too exhausted to do anything else. I didn’t cook. I lived in hotel rooms and ate garbage in front of my computer screen. I was too exhausted to see my friends. I was too overworked to work out. I was always tired. No matter how much I slept, I never felt rested.

I know — it sounds obvious in hindsight. The signs were all there. But I was convinced that my work was helpful and that I was the problem. That I wasn’t good enough. That I needed to improve.
So I kept pushing.
I kept working.

The entire audit industry rely on performance. Every assignment is evaluated. You’re ranked. Given responsibilities. And if you perform, you climb. The higher you rank, the bigger the raise. That’s what they tell you. But if you fail to climb .. Then you get the worst jobs. The ones no one wants. Because they’re death trap. And you get little to no human resources to help you. Because you failed. So they want you gone. They want you to quit.

They rely on people like me. People who love being useful. Who takes pride in performing. Who constantly feels the need to prove themselves. I thrived in that system.
I sacrificed my health.
Because I was performing.

And that’s what mattered to me.

Until my body gave out.

I’d been in burnout since March 2024. But in December, my body couldn’t take it anymore.
I exploded, and then I shut down.
When I got home, the day after I exploded, I spent a week in bed — sleeping more than 15 hours a day. Doing nothing.
Then I spent another week unable to sleep at all — haunted by everything I’d just been through.

Oh, and did I mention?
In December, they told me there would be no new hires to help.
Maybe an intern.
One I would have to train.
On top of everything else.
So yeah. I broke.
But honestly?
I had it coming.

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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