To the Graves’ and Back

A Burnout and Recovery Story

If you had told me a year and a half ago that I would be sitting in a park watching my 8-year-old daughter play hide and seek with friends on a cool summer afternoon with the kind of calm I only remember having nearly 15 years ago sitting on a dock in the middle of Lake Michigan, I would have laughed.

Two-thousand twenty-three was the year of burnout recovery after quitting my well-paying corporate job to avoid the unavoidable. I was in full-on denial and refused to see the doctor and get an official Graves' Disease diagnosis.

One year ago, I was on the brink of menopause at 43 years old. It was the scariest health experience of my life because, until that moment, I was a healthy person. I knew deep down that I wasn't getting better, but I didn't want to be a sick person for the rest of my life. So I practiced the most toxic positivity to escape that label until my nurse friend finally convinced me to go for autoimmune testing as was prescribed nearly a year before.

She told me recently that she has never been so scared for a friend. She said, "In nursing school, we learned that Graves' patients tend to just go, go, go UNTIL THEY DIE."

I digress. Let's take it back to when the burnout began, to where the Graves' disease likely began to be triggered. I hope my story can be a cautionary tale that saves you or someone you love from a similar fate.

a cautionary tale

It was late 2019. I had begun some self-coaching to save my marriage and learn how to be content with my job. Many ADHDers are restless and seek constant challenges. If healthy challenges are not built in, an ADHDer will often create unhealthy ones at any cost.

I was about two years in at my marketing job with a bank. I loved my team and clients but not my boss or the culture. I was at a point where I could look past those things, find the joy, and leave the rest. This was a huge accomplishment!

In January 2020, my favorite coworker gave a two-month notice of transfer to another department. Much of my contentment was tied to that relationship, but I took it in stride and practiced my growth mindset. A few weeks later, I was approached about a job with a sizable pay increase that would have me starting one week before my coworker left. I took it as a sign, went after that job with vigor, and ignored every red flag that crossed my path. MONEY ABOVE ALL!

When addressing the possible red flags, I thought, "For that amount of money, I can do it for a few years, even if I hate it." This is a dangerous thought. No amount of money could make the events that transpired over the next three years worth it.

covid: a chaotic start

My first day as a brand manager for a large equipment division of an international brand was February 24, 2020. Does that date ring a bell? That was three weeks before the COVID lockdown in the United States.

My job was going to involve heavy travel. Travel was required to learn about this equipment and effectively do my job. Everything changed in one afternoon. My confidence dropped because my expectations were turned upside-down. The only light was that our training manager, who knew the equipment inside and out, was close enough to drive and teach me about the equipment. But then he left the company two months later. There was no one to help explain this highly engineered equipment in person so I could grasp it enough to market it. I was paralyzed with fear.

I was locked down at home with my 4-year-old daughter using the TV as a babysitter, with lots of demands from a boss who had no children and worked 16 - 18 hours a day. My overwhelm and perfectionism were in control. My confidence was effectively at zero and never fully regained. I began exercising more to combat anxiety, went on anti-anxiety (SSRI) meds for the first time in 14 years, and increased my stimulant medication.

the weight of expectations

The ADHD mask was coming off, whether I liked it or not. For the first time I could remember, I was a disappointment. My contributions were considered less than satisfactory. I internalized and blamed myself, but I was determined to do better. Part of that was learning to set and keep boundaries to protect my peace. No more putting work before my family because that gave me no place for respite.

In my first annual assessment, my boss (the one with no children) said it seemed "like you're putting your family before work? You aren't contributing as much as others on the team." I was proud, confused, and pissed all at once. I had finally learned to set and lean into my boundaries. Yes! I had learned to put my family first! I thought, "Why the hell wouldn't I, you psychopath?"

I wish I could tell you that was the day I gave my notice. Maybe any reasonable person would.

Instead, I kept going for two more years. During that time, I tried to manufacture happiness and contentment. I tried to make sure this wasn't all my fault, though my brain wasn't allowing me to untangle from that rumination. This was evident in that I deeply dreaded and cried like a baby in every annual assessment over those three years.

I tried to mentally and financially prepare to leave without a job when I was the breadwinner. I learned there was no way for ME to mentally prepare for purposely draining thousands a month out of savings. It was not going to happen.

Why would I have to quit without another job? Because I was burnt out and I knew it. The thought of working for anyone doing anything was too much to process in that state, let alone to fool anyone in an interview into thinking I wanted to work for them.

a new role and rising challenges

In mid-2021, my boss hired a marketing manager, the position I was supposed to be groomed to fill. In January 2022, I was moved into a more fitting role, managing international distributor communications. This role required research, project management, marketing communications, and new software setup and implementation. I would be wearing four hats! It was PERFECT.

This was a new chance to prove myself, to show she was wrong about me. Maybe I wouldn't have to quit after all!

Fast forward to November of 2022. The year had gone well, except that my anti-anxiety and ADHD meds had all but quit working (I now know this was a sign of Graves'). I did have a few missteps, including the time I mouthed off via email and got written up. Not my finest moment. My boss and I renewed our vows to communicate better. By this point, I had her number. I'm almost certain she has ADHD but was and may still be in deep denial about it. Strangely, she could identify it in others. She joked to my face once "It's like you have ADHD or something." The joke's on her, I guess?

November 2022 was the month Graves' disease showed up in my annual checkup. We didn't know it at the time, though a little part of me had a feeling. That feeling was reconfirmed after finding out I had a 21% higher genetic predisposition for thyroid autoimmune disease. It would take five months to see an endocrinologist for extensive testing. The appointment was set.

we gave it a good try

In my third annual assessment in February 2023, it was clear that management wanted me to either take a pay cut or leave. I would not do four jobs for less money. With my pending diagnosis, there was no question about what had to happen.

They say you can have 1,000 problems until you have a health problem. Then you only have one problem.

I gave a three-month notice the following morning during a thoughtful conversation with my boss, who had come far from where we first started. We both had grown and given all we had to make things work. Trauma cannot be healed in the same setting where it takes place. Though we had given it our best shot!

recovery — new beginnings

My last day was March 24, 2023. I left my job on good terms with holiday pay and a sizable "transition payment." And remember how I had worried about being the breadwinner and quitting my job? My husband asked for the raise he had deserved for over 10 years and got it. This gave us enough to pay bills. We wouldn't save anything, but we could stay afloat for a while. I was fortunate to take a couple of months to be still and breathe for the first time in 30 years.

Over the previous four years, I had been through a short stent of 2020 therapy and consistently learned and used self-coaching tools. I had tried to find a coach, but I had created too many rules.

Rule 1: The coach had to be local.

Rule 2: The coach had to be an ADHD coach.

That wasn't an option. So, like many ADHDers, I did it myself. This is an important note for what comes next.

Keeping in check with my focus on burnout recovery and "beating" this Graves' thing before it was too late, I began walking regularly with a close friend. (Haha! I was so confident in my ability to do so that I canceled the appointment with the endocrinologist. After all, we no longer had the health insurance to pay for that.) On an early morning walk in May, my friend mentioned that she had been seeing a coach locally.

the call to coaching

She said that coaching had changed her life and that maybe it would help me get some clarity on what to do next. I perked up. I didn't want to be coached. I said, “I want to BE a coach!”

I had journaled about this for 15 years. I listened to all the Tony Robbins seminars and read many self-help books. Learning and using the tools for myself and my friends had been a hobby for nearly half my life. I never took the leap because I thought I had too much to lose. I didn't think people in Conway, Arkansas would pay for coaching. At that moment, those two hurdles disappeared.

Having searched for a local ADHD coach, only to come up empty during my recent three-year corporate struggle, I knew what kind of coach I wanted to be. After our walk, I called my friend's coach, Selena Ulasewich, founder of Impact Coaching and Consulting.

After our first meeting, I knew the timing was finally right. Everything was in alignment and within a month I had finished my first International Coaching Federation (ICF) course. One down, two to go. My next courses would not begin until the fall, which was scary.

The imposter syndrome was strong. How would I market myself as a coach for the next four months? Selena helped me see that I had been an unofficial coach for years and that my personal journey with self-coaching should not be dismissed.

how coaching shaped my recovery

I was pacing myself on this journey for the first time I had ever done so in my life. My burnout recovery depended on it. "Curing" my undiagnosed Graves' disease depended on it. To get clarity and confidence, I joined the 2023 Fall Mastermind, where we read "Atomic Habits." The women in that Mastermind and chapter three on habits and identity (a behavior change model) helped me stomp that imposter syndrome into the ground.

I was off to the races. By August 2023, I had my first official coaching client. He is still with me today. We have grown together. I'm not sure he'll ever fully understand how his faith in me has changed my life's trajectory.

Through training and becoming an official coach over the past year, I've made life-long friendships and learned more than I thought possible about ADHD. I learned how to be a steward of self-discovery for my clients with or without a diagnosis, through transitions, and beyond.

recovery lessons

There are several important lessons I've learned over the past year, many you'll read about in the future. I'll tell you three here:

1) You cannot STOP Graves' or other autoimmune diseases once triggered. In hindsight, it feels laughable to think otherwise, though I'm certain I'm not the only one who has tried.

2) Overcoming burnout is different from recovering from burnout. I'm not sure if full recovery exists. Overcoming, on the other hand, is absolutely possible.

3) Long-term burnout recovery feels a lot like grief recovery. It comes in waves. There are waves of calm and solace, where you think, "I'm doing this thing. I've rewired. I barely remember that pain anymore." Then a small memory triggers the wave of burnout emotion and weight that took you months to uncover. In a moment, it's as if you never overcame anything. These waves get shorter and lighter but from my experience, almost two years out they still come crashing down on occasion.

my advice

Ride the waves, and feel the emotions. The only way to the other side is through. Eventually, you become skilled at navigating the waves.