(The following story is fictional. It does not describe any real executive, client, or workplace situation. It is a composite meant to reflect common patterns seen in high-achieving professionals struggling with compulsive overwork.)
Mike:
Thanks for taking the call, Tim. I wasn’t sure who else to talk to.
Tim:
I’m glad you reached out. What’s going on?
Mike:
I just got promoted. Managing twelve managers now. It’s… huge. Honestly, it’s what I’ve been working toward for years.
Tim:
Congratulations. That’s a real achievement.
Mike:
Thanks.
(pause)
But the pressure is unreal. We’ve got multiple AI products shipping this year, visibility from the board, the whole thing. If this goes well, it puts me on a very short list.
Tim:
And if it doesn’t?
Mike:
I don’t let myself think about that.
Tim:
Tell me what your weeks look like.
Mike:
Eighty hours, easy. Sometimes more. I sleep at the office a couple nights a week. I don’t take vacations. I can’t afford to disappear right now.
Tim:
How’s your health?
Mike:
Not great. I’ve got ulcers starting. Doctor wants me to slow down.
(laughs)
I told him I don’t have time to be sick.
Tim:
How did he respond?
Mike:
He didn’t love that answer.
Tim:
And your life outside of work?
Mike:
That’s… basically my girlfriend. And she’s miserable. Says I’m never present. Says I’m always on my laptop, even when I’m home. She keeps calling me a workaholic.
Tim:
How do you feel when she says that?
Mike:
Defensive. Annoyed. Also scared, if I’m honest.
Tim:
Scared of what?
Mike:
That she might be right.
Tim:
What happened that made you call me now?
Mike:
My boss, the CIO, pulled me aside last week. Told me I look terrible. Said maybe I should take some time off. Coming from him, that’s not nothing.
Tim:
Did you take time off?
Mike:
I tried. Took two days. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I kept checking Slack. Reviewing docs. Answering emails. It was like my body was resting but my brain wouldn’t stop.
Tim:
How did that feel?
Mike:
Uncomfortable. Almost panicky. Like I was falling behind just by sitting still.
Tim:
And your girlfriend?
Mike:
She lost it. Said if I couldn’t stop working for forty-eight hours, that wasn’t ambition, it was a problem. She dragged me to a meeting for workaholics.
Tim:
How was that?
Mike:
I hated the idea.
(pause)
But when people started talking… I recognized myself. The constant urgency. The inability to rest. The way everything feels like it will collapse if you’re not there.
Tim:
Did you speak?
Mike:
No. I just listened.
Tim:
And afterward?
Mike:
I couldn’t shake it. That’s why I’m calling. How do I know if I’m actually a workaholic? And if I am… what am I supposed to do? I can’t just stop working.
Tim:
Let’s slow this down. I’m not interested in labeling you right away. I’m more interested in patterns.
Can I ask you a few questions?
Mike:
Sure.
Tim:
When you try to cut back, what happens?
Mike:
I get anxious. Irritable. My mind starts racing. I tell myself I’ll just check one thing, and then I’m back in it for hours.
Tim:
Do you work even when you’ve promised yourself you won’t?
Mike:
All the time.
Tim:
Do you keep working despite clear physical consequences?
Mike:
Yeah. I mean, the ulcers aren’t theoretical.
Tim:
Do important relationships suffer because of your work, and do you keep working anyway?
Mike:
Yes.
Tim:
When you’re not working, do you feel restless or uneasy?
Mike:
Absolutely.
Tim:
Okay. Let me reflect what I’m hearing.
You’re highly capable, driven, and successful. Work gives you identity, structure, and a sense of safety. When you’re not working, anxiety spikes. When people ask you to slow down, it feels threatening. And despite real costs to your health and relationships, you feel unable to stop.
Does that sound accurate?
Mike:
Yeah. When you put it like that, it’s hard to argue.
Tim:
None of that makes you weak. It tells me work has become more than a job. It’s become your primary regulator.
Mike:
Regulator?
Tim:
The thing that keeps your nervous system steady. When you’re working, you feel purposeful, contained, in control. When you’re not, things feel unmanageable.
Mike:
That… hits.
Tim:
Now here’s the important part. Being ambitious and being compulsive are not the same thing. The difference isn’t how much you work. It’s whether you can choose not to.
Mike:
And I can’t.
Tim:
Not reliably, no.
Mike:
So what does that mean? Am I supposed to quit my job? Go to rehab for work?
Tim:
No. Let’s not jump to extremes.
What it means is that your relationship to work may need structure and support, not just discipline.
Mike:
Like what?
Tim:
Some people benefit a lot from Workaholics Anonymous or similar groups. Not because they need to abandon their careers, but because they need help learning how to relate to work without being consumed by it.
Others work with a coach or therapist who understands behavioral addiction and nervous system regulation. Sometimes both.
Mike:
I don’t love the idea of meetings.
Tim:
You don’t have to love them. You just have to see if you recognize yourself enough that staying curious makes sense.
You already did that once.
Mike:
Yeah.
Tim:
Let me ask you something else. What do you think would happen if you kept going exactly like this for five more years?
Mike:
I’d probably be higher up.
(pause)
I’d also probably be alone. Or sick. Or both.
Tim:
And what would it cost you to experiment with doing this differently?
Mike:
Control. Certainty. My edge.
Tim:
That’s an honest answer.
Here’s what I’ll suggest, not as a command, but as an experiment.
For the next few weeks, treat this the way you’d treat any other risk. Gather data.
Go to a few meetings. Not to commit. Just to listen. Notice what happens when you try to set limits around work and what shows up in your body. Pay attention to whether support makes things feel steadier or more threatening.
Mike:
And if it turns out I am a workaholic?
Tim:
Then the work becomes learning how to be effective without self-destruction. Not less ambitious. More sustainable.
Mike:
I don’t know how to rest.
Tim:
That’s not a personal failure. It’s a skill you haven’t had to learn yet.
And like any skill, it’s learnable, with help.
Mike:
So I don’t have to decide if I’m a workaholic today?
Tim:
No. You just have to stop pretending this is something you can white-knuckle on your own.
Mike:
That feels… uncomfortable.
Tim:
Most important things do at first.
Let’s take this one step at a time. We’ll figure out what kind of support actually fits your life, not blows it up.
Mike:
Okay. I can do that.
Tim:
Good. That’s enough for today.
Stories like this are not meant to diagnose or accuse. They are meant to illuminate patterns that are often hidden behind success and responsibility. If you recognize parts of yourself here, it does not mean you have failed. It means you may be carrying more than one person can sustainably hold alone, and that recognition is often the first step toward real change.