More Than Burnout

I recently reconnected with an old friend and former colleague from my days in tech. We hadn't seen each other since before the pandemic, so when he reached out to say hello, I was delighted. We met over Zoom, planned for an hour—just to catch up and shoot the shit. And what started as a one-hour catch-up turned into something... a little different. But powerful.

We chatted a little, then I asked what I thought was a fairly standard, benign question about work—and found myself launched into an epic tale spanning a decade. Before we knew it, hours had passed. We'd been on a journey together: he'd recounted the various companies and projects he'd worked on over the years, alongside the challenges, the burnout, and the straight-up abuse he'd endured at the hands of higher-ups. When the story was finished, he paused and reflected: "Wow, I really didn't expect to go into all that. I have no idea why I did."

I found myself asking him a question I've asked so many times before, but usually not to my friends: "How was it to tell me your story?"

It felt really good. He felt lighter. And he said it felt like I actually understood—almost like I was literally walking with him through all those memories. The truth is, I was. I could see it. I could feel it. I've experienced the flavors he was painting with, so I could taste the nuance, the pain, the anger, and the pride. I felt deeply honored to witness his story. (And also pissed off that the industry I left is still hardest on the people who ask more of it, who seek to repair it, who most want justice.)

So many of you have survived so much—all in the name of doing challenging jobs that have felt rewarding at times, and deeply painful at others. Even predatory. Some of you are still stuck in the trenches, suffering day in and day out, working for companies that fundamentally do not care about you or how you're doing. Some of you have gotten out, but have never told your story. Some of you have signed NDAs that make it unsafe to do so.

Yes, workplace trauma is real. Sometimes what you're experiencing is more than just burnout. And you deserve to be heard, to be seen, and to have someone help guide you back to yourself. I can't change tech, any more than I can change the driving force behind it all—pure late-stage capitalism. But therapy can help you make sense of your experiences, feel the feelings that got stuck (whether you had to hide them, push them down, or just run away from them), and find a way to move forward.

If this sounds like you, I’d love to hear your story too. (I’m accepting clients in California.)