13/08/2026
Nothing says "you're doing too much" quite like an unplanned trip to the hospital!
10 years ago, I was on the train to work. Normal day, nothing on my mind. Then my heart started pounding, out of nowhere.
I got off and my usual 10 minute walk to the office took twice as long — I was walking slower, thinking "what is happening."
By the time I got to my desk the tightness in my chest still hadn't gone. I started my day as usual anyway — emails, checking in with the team, dealing with clients. Two hours later, nothing had changed. I was starting to really worry, so I called 111. They sent me to hospital.
Tests all day, home that evening, then follow-ups for nearly a year. ECGs, a heart monitor strapped on for days, treadmill tests wired up to machines. They took it seriously, which I was grateful for. But nothing was ever found. Healthy heart. Highly likely anxiety — a panic attack.
I'd never had one before, so I had no idea what was happening to me.
A few years later, in a different job they came back more often. Every time I was calm. Not stressed, not panicking — just living normal life. Eventually I learned to name it, sit with it, breathe through it and let it pass.
People suggested anxiety meds, but by then I understood exactly what was causing them.
The way I was working — always "on," always reactive, fast-paced days, high stress, the emotional toll of managing a team, carrying everyone else's moods and personalities, running from one thing to the next.
Slow weekends didn't fix it. Holidays didn't fix it. A whole month's sabbatical didn't fix it. Because exhaustion doesn't recover on ordinary rest.
Three years ago, I left. Not because I didn't love the job or the team. But because my health wasn't worth the salary or the responsibility I'd worked so hard to get.
What have I learned since? That I should have set better boundaries for myself. Said no more. Let go of the guilt of putting everyone else before me. Turned my phone notifications off. All things that were completely possible — and wouldn't have stopped me doing my job well.
Why do some things just "come with the job"? When they affect your health - they absolutely shouldn't.
