TL;DR:
I looked successful on paper — new baby, a promotion, a marriage I loved — while burnout quietly took me apart for over a year without me naming it. This is what that looked like from the inside, and what it actually took to stop pretending I was fine.
The Sydney Funnel-web Spider (Atrax robustus) is among the deadliest spiders, according to Britannica*. They hunt by creating a funnel of web, chill in there patiently then as unsuspecting prey walks across their lair; they lunge at them to inject their venom in an instant.
Left untreated, primates can drop dead in just fifteen minutes.
Instead of a potent Atracotoxin*, burnout uses time against you to slowly create a separate reality, leading to self-deconstruction that is not as straightforward as you might think.
What Sarah Saw
On a lovely evening, my wife and I had two of our friends over on our patio. As the sun was setting, we laughed and talked happily, then after a ten-second pause, Sarah – our friend – looked at me saying “I was worried about you.”
My pupils dilated as I looked at her, surprised but already guessing what she was about to say. By then I had recovered from the last relentless stretch of burnout and started to get my mojo back; my presence became light again.
“How so?” I asked.
“It was hard to witness your struggles,” Sarah told me.
That evening I felt strangely peaceful. Long gone were the days of my body feeling completely tense, shallow breaths and wonders about what’s behind the next corner.
From the outside looking in, I was successful. I married the beautiful and witty love of my life and recently became a father. We had a roof over our heads, everyone was healthy, and I received the promotion I worked hard for, becoming a tech program manager for 150 people. Safe to say, I was rolling except for early parenthood sleep deprivation; sleeping haphazardly was tough.
“What struggles do you mean?” I asked.
“Csaba, you looked like a ghost.” Sarah continued. She meant that I lost 10kgs (20lb) of weight in under a year and my figure resembled a praying mantis. My wife reassured me that I was a handsome mantis, but nonetheless scary. I pushed my mind over the threshold, and my body lost interest in keeping up with the pace. They told me, what I already knew, it felt like a torment to have a conversation with me. They warned me months ago, but I refused to listen, I became absent from my own life, and my friends were powerless to stop the decline. But it was never their job to do that.
I knew my spider very well; I escorted him to the darkness and learned to avoid his lunges. Little did I know that our little dance in front of his lair was never mine to win.
The Flame With Nowhere to Land
I used to be a competitor. More than a decade of playing semi-professional basketball hardened me. Pressure became a close friend I still long for sometimes. When I entered the global tech space, I felt right at home. Competition was fierce within and outside of every organization I worked for, from garage companies to global corporations. My heart was pumping with excitement every day for quite a while.
The tear in my reality started when I first said: “this is pointless” without anyone being present. That moment was sinister, because it happened in isolation, and that is a key difference. When the sentence slipped out, I realized I was playing for survival but decided to keep playing. The tough manly image didn’t let me give up; I had to push harder. That decision pulled on the tear to create total emotional detachment and eventually, apathy. I thought I had reached an elevated level of resistance.
Instead, I locked my soul in a shoebox with one tiny hole to breathe through.
By that time, I was fed up on the inside but kept smiling to not show weakness. I wanted to create the life I envisioned, and my position was key in building it. I became attached to the title and benefits that were bundled with it, putting on golden handcuffs willingly.
In the mornings I felt like I had to drag myself out of bed whereas I used to jump out, filled with energy.
There’s no ‘we’ in isolation, and if you’ve read carefully, you can recognize how self-isolation works. On the path to burnout, I believed I was alone.
The only little ray of sunshine I could hold onto came with the wished responsibility. I became the go-to guy for most of the 150 people to solve their problems. By day I fought with pointless bureaucracy, but by night, I started to help people within the organization to make their roadblocks disappear. I was so good at it that it spread like wildfire. I started to solve all those pains that had fallen through the cracks in every meeting, because they were so tedious or complex, often both. The “let’s take this offline” nonsense type.
But those were real people’s real problems. I couldn’t leave them behind, and that dedication took a toll on me.
The spider is waiting for your legs to shake and your guard to lower; then it will strike with precision, and they will.
Regaining Myself
The trickiest part of burnout is that it starts with the flame of ambition. Ambition in its true form is a form of innovation; it will enable you to move mountains. The trouble starts when that ambition has no fertile ground to find a home. Ambition eventually leads to creation. A dead end steals that creation from your soul, then your soul will start imploding, sooner or later, if left unchecked.
We lie to each other and ourselves about our mental health. It’s still not common to admit that we might be struggling with impossible expectations, and until that happens, we leave behind those who are in dire need, who don’t dare to speak up: “I need help.”
I’m determined to change that. Your ambition and healthy mental state can live together within you. Until my mind allows me to see clearly, I’ll help those who need to cope with pressure, because it’s still no bueno to keep up with life alone.
I consider myself lucky that after I saw my distorted reflection, I dared to ask for help and let go of the idea that I could handle everything alone. I did two things to regain my former self: started to work with a coach and in parallel started to put in real effort to appreciate my achievements because, you guessed it, nobody really did that for me.
I never strived for praise, but after a while the silence became deafening, and it was mostly me who stayed silent. So, I took responsibility for my own life and started to celebrate my milestones, no matter how small. You don’t have to think about grand gestures – 20 minutes of uncontrollable dance sessions to 00s bangers with my family did the trick, to name one example. I also included my own gratitude practice, like a mantra. Saying out loud all the things that I’m grateful for. Small, big, immaterial or earthly riches, don’t matter. The only thing that’s important is that the grind for the next big thing stopped having a grip on me.
If I were you, I wouldn’t want to see what’s on the other side of the burnout. I kept telling myself I’m fine and that I can handle the shadow of bitter isolation. But I also know how stubborn we can get; I was a prime example, and now know that white-knuckling isolation is never pretty.
Please remember, even after the deadlock, there are safe hands to reach out to. But you can prevent most of what I’ve described; you don’t have to toughen up all the time. It’s okay to ask for help; it’s a strength.
Change can only be created through discomfort, such as meeting the spider in the dark that you know is waiting for you.
What would you have to admit if you dared to look the spider in the eyes?
Full disclaimer:
Coaching can and will help you address personal and work-related stress, workload, boundaries, habits, and practical changes. I do not diagnose burnout or treat depression, anxiety disorder, deeply rooted trauma, or other mental or physical health conditions. If you experience persistent hopelessness, severe anxiety, major sleep disruption, difficulty functioning in daily life, or thoughts of harming yourself, please contact a qualified healthcare or mental health professional. Coaching may continue alongside treatment when appropriate.
References:
1: 9 of the World's Deadliest Spiders
2: Atratoxin
It’s perfectly okay to ask for support. You don’t have to figure everything out on your own. While I believe everyone is their own best expert, I’m also a big believer in asking for help to create change together. It’s comforting to have someone by our side as we go through transitions. If you’re feeling motivated to expand your comfort zone and curious about how I can support you on your journey, let’s talk.
The cost of constant output doesn't show up immediately — it shows up later, all at once. Online wellbeing coaching is where you get ahead of that bill.
