When resignation becomes a path to healing
She found herself struggling not only with self-doubt but with a work culture driven by competition, power dynamics and unspoken political games
Published: 05:01 PM,Jan 31,2026 | EDITED : 09:01 PM,Jan 31,2026
Mrs B, a 45-year-old mother of four, came to my clinic feeling sad with frequent anxiety attacks, losing interest in almost everything and having self-doubts about her ability to do her job. She was recently promoted to a senior leadership role, but instead of feeling pride, she started to have waves of negative emotions.
Despite her long record of strong performance, she found herself terrified of disappointing her supervisor or making a mistake. Each morning became a battle when getting out of bed felt like lifting a weight heavier than anything she carried at work. Anxiety soon seeped into every corner of her life. She struggled with sleep, emotional eating and a constant knot of worry in her stomach. Her productivity dropped, which only intensified her self-criticism. To compensate, she stayed late at the office, pushing herself beyond exhaustion. At home, her presence faded; she had little energy left for her children, her husband, or even her aging parents.
At work, she masked her distress. Like many leaders, she believed she had to appear strong, composed and in control. Internally, however, she felt like a shadow of herself. Worse, she found herself struggling not only with self-doubt but with a work culture driven by competition, power dynamics and unspoken political games. Navigating this environment felt misaligned with her values, and she felt emotionally unsafe. It became clear that the exhaustion she carried was not a sign of weakness but a response to a system that rewarded endurance and punished vulnerability.
Eventually, Mrs B reached a point of emotional saturation, still functioning, still respected, but crumbling inside. The idea of resigning surfaced not as an escape but as a means of survival. Yet the decision was not easy. Stepping down meant risking financial security, professional identity and the external validation that had shaped her sense of worth for years.
When she finally submitted her resignation, the emotions were mixed: relief, grief and a quiet fear of what would come next. Letting go of the role also meant letting go of the identity she had built around being dependable, capable and endlessly resilient.
But what happened next was not expected. With the pressure gone, her body collapsed into a state of deep exhaustion. She slept more, moved less and felt little motivation to engage with the world. At first, she feared she was regressing. In reality, she was experiencing what psychologists describe as a “nervous system shutdown” after prolonged hypervigilance. For years, she had lived in survival mode; now she was finally stopping.
During this period, she realised that her withdrawal had a protective function. By becoming less productive and less visible, she lowered the expectations placed on her, both by others and by herself. For the first time, she was no longer performing.
Today, she is more at ease with herself, but no longer drowning. Her journey is slow and uneven, marked by new self-awareness and a growing tenderness towards herself. Mrs B’s story is a reminder that sometimes stepping down is not stepping back, but stepping towards healing — a reclaiming of dignity, balance and a life no longer defined by relentless performance.