From burnout to thriving.

This was me, 9 years ago, before I burnt out spectacularly.

I was not looking great right?

A single Mum to a 2 and 3-year-old, going through a divorce, commuting an hour to and from work with a big team of over 20 to manage and support.

I'd drop my girls off at the childminder at 7.30 am, drive an hour to work, and spend the day in a super stressful job.

No lunch, no breaks. Meetings back to back.

Race back to collect them on time at 6pm...always running up the drive to get them because I was always late.

Get them home, snack, bath and bed for 7pm (and anyone with toddlers knows how hard this witching hour before bed is!)

Then I'd prep their meals and snacks for the next day, pack and unpack their bags, and attempt to feed myself before dropping into bed.

Rinse and repeat.

I was a 'star performer' at work, and I gave them every tiny last piece of energy I had.

It's not surprising I burnt out, really!

They thought I'd had a suspected TIA at work. I drove myself the hour home to the doctors (yup, crazy!), who then blue-lighted me to the hospital.

I sat there for 7 hours alone - not wanting to bother anyone for help or worry them.

It was 'just' a panic attack, and I got a taxi home alone in the early hours.

The first thing I did when I got home at 3 am was to text my boss and apologise that I would be late that morning!

The fact that I even contemplated going in showed where my head was.

I was on auto-pilot, supporting everyone else in my life but not giving myself an ounce.

And I'd pushed everyone away, trying to be strong and show I was coping.

On the outside, everyone kept telling me how amazing I was.
So strong.
So capable.
So independent.

On the inside, I was so messed up and broken.

Exhausted.

I knew that if I admitted it, I would crumble, and I couldn't do that because I had two babies to look after, a mortgage to pay, and the shame would be too great.

Now, when I look back, I feel so sad that I thought I had to soldier on.
I thought that was just how life had to be.

It doesn't. It really doesn't.

And there is no shame in asking for support or admitting that everything is too much.

So, I asked for help. And people gave willingly.

In fact, they had been desperately wanting to help me for a long time.

I quit my corporate job and went to work for a small, caring, family-based business. It was the best move I could have made.

It helped me rebalance and rediscover what is truly important in my life.

So, this is my message for mental health awareness week...

If you are struggling, there is ZERO shame in asking for help.

Don't hide it, share it.

Don't soldier on; turn around and face it head-on, with support.

It looks like everyone else has their sh*t together, but they don't.

Everyone has their stuff.

So, if this is how you are feeling, reach out to someone, anyone, for help.

You won't be judged; it's just being human.

Other people will want to support you, I promise.

You just need to let them.

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