The 'Employee of the Year' Paradox: Why High Achievers Burn Out and What We Can Do About It

In December 2023, I was named Employee of the Year. My accomplishments that year ranged from starting and orchestrating an employee class focused on biblical principles to creating marketing strategies for a bookkeeper's office, revamping our company website, and organizing volunteer outings—all while keeping up with my regular duties. On the surface, it looked like I had it all together. But by April 2024, I was struggling with suicidal thoughts, and by June, I needed to take a sabbatical. A month later, I was fired for mistakes despite being recognized as the top performer only months before.

This experience, though painful, is not unique. High achievers often find themselves trapped in a cycle of peak performance and rapid burnout, where their recognition for their hard work only makes the subsequent crash more severe. The pressure to constantly maintain an image of success can be overwhelming. When you're already carrying mental health struggles like ADHD, anxiety, or depression, the weight of it all becomes too much to bear.

Highs of Achievement:

I was operating in my zone of genius when creating marketing copy and organizing events. These were the tasks that lit me up and made me feel alive. The sense of accomplishment was unmatched, and seeing the impact of my work—whether it was the buzz around a successful event or the positive feedback on the marketing—kept me going. Being named Employee of the Year in December 2023 felt like the cherry on top. It was a form of validation for the long hours, the extra effort, and the passion I put into my work, mainly since I wasn't being compensated for it beyond the occasional pat on the back.

But as 2024 rolled in, things started to shift. I was given additional roles and responsibilities and a bonus structure based on performance metrics that I needed more control over. The excitement of being entrusted with more responsibility quickly turned into pressure. The metrics—designed to measure performance—felt like an unfair gauge, considering how many variables were outside my control. It was as though the more I gave, the more was expected, but the recognition didn't always match the reality of the increasing stress.

The Tipping Point & Burnout:

January 2024, I began noticing subtle signs of burnout. At first I thought it was the stress of my Dads heart attack the month before. But I noticed the excitement I once felt for my work faded, replaced by constant exhaustion. Tasks that once energized me now felt like an uphill battle. My usual spark for creativity was dimming, and even simple tasks began to feel overwhelming. At the time, I pushed through it, telling myself that this was just part of the grind—that if I worked harder, I would eventually return to the rhythm I was used to.

But by April, the burnout had become severe. I was physically drained and mentally scattered. Not too mention about to undergo ankle surgery. The exhaustion wasn't just from long hours—it was a profound, all-encompassing fatigue that affected every aspect of my life. I finally admitted that something was seriously wrong and mentioned it to my doctor. It felt like I had hit a wall, and I knew that continuing without acknowledging it was no longer an option.

The Crash:

When the burnout reached its peak, everything started to unravel. I cried all the time—sometimes for no apparent reason—while other times, it felt like the tears were a release from the overwhelming pressure. I began making mistakes that I usually would have caught quickly, and the feeling of inadequacy set in. No matter how small, every error seemed to amplify my sense of failure. Waking up anxious every morning terrified of what was waiting for me in my inbox.

Physically, I was drained. I was constantly tired, even after what should have been restful nights. My body seemed to shut down as if trying to warn me that I had pushed too far for too long. I was getting sick more often, unable to recover from colds and illnesses as usual. It was as though my body had finally reached its breaking point.

At work, I couldn't keep up. Despite the mounting exhaustion and emotional toll, the pressure to perform led to more mistakes. Eventually, I had no choice but to step back, realizing that I was not the same person who had earned Employee of the Year just a few months earlier.

Invisible Struggles:

Throughout this journey, I always felt I had to hide my true self. A constant balancing act—trying to present a polished, high-performing version of myself while quietly battling a storm inside. The worry and rumination were almost continuous, like a soundtrack that never stopped playing in the background. I was always overthinking, second-guessing my actions, and constantly questioning if I was doing enough or doing it right.

I didn't know it at the time, but this was a result of ADHD. I wasn't diagnosed until June 2024, and before that, I struggled with these internal battles without understanding why. My self-doubt was relentless, and I often questioned my worth. The fear of rejection loomed enormous—every small mistake or critique felt like confirmation that I wasn't good enough.

These internal struggles were invisible to those around me. On the outside, I was handling everything well. Still, inside, I was trying to keep the pieces together while grappling with feelings of inadequacy, uncertainty, and rejection sensitivity. It's an exhausting way to live, and its weight grew as I pushed myself harder to meet expectations I felt I could never fully reach.

Understanding and Support:

One of the most challenging realizations I had to face during my burnout was that my struggles weren't a character flaw—they were part of a real disorder. For so long, I believed that the constant worry, self-doubt, and rejection sensitivity were just signs that something was wrong with me. If I could "work harder" or "get my act together," I would overcome it. But the truth is, these challenges were not a result of my personal failings—they were symptoms of something deeper, something I had no control over.

After my ADHD diagnosis in June 2024, things started to make sense. What I had thought were just parts of my personality were actually manifestations of a neurodevelopmental disorder. This shift in understanding didn't erase the struggles but gave me a sense of validation and clarity. It also helped me realize the importance of understanding and compassion, especially in the workplace.

I wish I had received recognition for my achievements and support when things began to fall apart in my workplace. There needs to be an awareness that employees, especially those who push themselves to the limit, maybe silently struggling with invisible issues. Without that understanding, it becomes too easy to overlook the signs of burnout and mental health challenges. We need a culture that allows for open conversation and acknowledges that struggling doesn't mean failing.

What Can We Do About It?

Understanding and managing burnout has taught me much about what works and doesn't when caring for my well-being. One of my most important lessons is to take on only a little. It's easy to get caught up in the rush of success and the desire to prove yourself, but taking on more than I could handle only led to exhaustion and a more profound sense of overwhelm. Learning to say "no" or "not right now" has been so important for me.

Sleep has also been a game-changer. I used to push through on very little sleep, thinking I could make up for it with sheer willpower. But the reality is that proper rest is essential for both physical and mental health. Now, I prioritize sleep, understanding that it's not a luxury but a necessity for my well-being.

Talk therapy has been invaluable in helping me process my emotions and thoughts. It's a space where I can untangle everything that's going on in my head, understand why I'm feeling the way I am, and work through strategies to cope. I've also found that the proper medication is a key part of my overall health plan. While it doesn't fix everything, it helps me manage my symptoms and keep moving forward.

In addition to therapy and medication, I've completed Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (TMS) as a treatment option. It's been an essential tool in my recovery process, and it's helped me get to a place where I can better manage my mental health, especially when things get overwhelming.

Making these changes—setting boundaries, focusing on self-care, and seeking the proper support—I've started to feel more in control. It's a continuous journey, but I've learned that taking care of myself is not a sign of weakness but a vital part of mental and physical health.

Honestly...

The truth is that burnout doesn't happen overnight. It's a slow buildup, a gradual erosion of your energy and mental well-being until you hit a breaking point. But I've learned through my experience that it's okay to slow down, take a step back, and prioritize self-care. Success is not about constantly pushing yourself to the limit—it's about finding balance and knowing when to rest.

If you find yourself in a cycle of peak performance followed by burnout, know you're not alone. Your struggles are real, and they do not reflect your character. It's okay to ask for help, seek support, and adjust your life to allow you to thrive. The key is recognizing when to step back, reassess, and care for your mental and physical health.

So, if you're reading this and feeling like you've been running on empty for too long, please take a moment to reflect. What can you do today to protect your well-being? What boundaries can you set to prevent burnout in the future? The answers may not all come at once, but starting the conversation—whether with yourself, your loved ones, or your employer—is the first step toward healing.at is to tell our stories, one word at a time.