‘It’s still very hard to just be’: how workaholism can leave lifelong scars

<span>More women are thought to suffer from workaholism than men, and more middle-aged boomers than younger people.</span><span>Photograph: PhotoAlto/Alamy</span>
More women are thought to suffer from workaholism than men, and more middle-aged boomers than younger people.Photograph: PhotoAlto/Alamy

When Marion’s* workaholism caused her to lose the sight in one eye, her response was to work even harder to prove she was healthy and fit enough to do her job. When Laura lost consciousness during a meeting because she had worked 24 hours a day for the preceding three days, she was so appalled by the idea that people might think she was not able to work properly that she got back up off the floor and insisted the meeting continue.

John was hospitalised and off work for six months when he finally burned out after more than 20 years of workaholism. When he was eventually able to get up off the sofa on his own, his 21-year-old son had to physically struggle with him to prevent him from getting to his computer.

“I’ll always be ashamed of that,” John said. “He had been there for me when I was at death’s door even though my workaholism meant I was never there for either my children.

“On the rare occasions I was physically present, I wasn’t mentally there: I was always thinking about work. Anything else left me entirely cold,” he said. “I even moved abroad at one point so I could work without having to waste working time, pretending I was going to spend time with my family.”

Workaholism is in the headlines because the playwright and screenwriter James Graham recently talked about attending Workaholics Anonymous meetings. He said workaholism was not treated as seriously as substance addictions.

“You hear the phrase ‘workaholic’ a lot, as though it is a habit, not an actual sickness,” he said. “But it is no different from addictions to drink or drugs: it’s a pattern of behaviour that slowly kills you.”

Some research suggests that one in four people suffer from workaholism. More women are thought to suffer than men, and more middle-aged boomers than younger gen Zers or millennials. But no one really knows: there is no clinical, medical definition of the addiction or a clear understanding of the causes – or a medical cure.

Workaholism largely exists under the radar because only those who seek help are counted. For many people, however, workaholism is a desirable state that they and their employers, if not their family, want to maintain. But for those who have reached burnout, the suffering is very real.

One night this week, 10 workaholics attended an online Workaholics Anonymous meeting. “My mum had an accident when I was eight and I grew up feeling that my role was to be super-good,” said Alicia, in her mid-20s. “That evolved into constantly asking myself: ‘How do I do this better?’ Employers love that stuff.”

When Alicia entered the world of work, one rule seemed very simple: put in as many hours as possible. “I didn’t set a single boundary and things went crazy well in my career,” she said.

But it was only for so long that she could sustain relentless 12-hour days, sleeping for just three hours a night. “I was getting blurry dots in my vision and could only see the computer screen if I looked at it from a certain angle,” she said. “I lost 20kg because I couldn’t eat, my stomach was constantly churning because I was in flight-or-fight mode 24/7. When I wasn’t working, I was thinking about work. I used to dream about it.”

Another night, another Workaholics Anonymous meeting. In this one, the conversation turned to upbringing. Almost every one spoke of parents, and even grandparents, who were also workaholics.

Ines’s parents were both workaholics, she said, sadly wondering how she had reached 70 and “forgotten to live my life”. Umoja’s mother worked herself to death on the family farm. “My parents drummed their work ethic into me: I never questioned that I was born to work,” she said.

Leena put her head in her hands. “I worry about the message I give my three small children,” she confessed. “The other night I worked until 4am. They woke up at 6am and I predictably ended up with a migraine and had to spend all afternoon in bed because my body couldn’t function.”

Dr Mike Drayton, a chartered member of the British Psychological Society who has written five books on the psychology of work, said the four main varieties of workaholic were the relentless workaholic, who works non-stop; the bulimic workaholic, who oscillates between intense engagement and obsessive avoidance; the attention-deficit workaholic, who gets easily bored and distracted, often leaving projects unfinished; and the perfectionist workaholic.

But what causes the addiction is not well understood: certain people are thought to be vulnerable but only in some circumstances, said Almuth McDowall, a professor of organisational psychology at Birkbeck, University of London.

“There needs to be an interplay between organisation and individual risk factors such as perfectionism, hyperfocus or hyposensitivity, which means you don’t notice that you need to eat, drink or sleep,” she said.

Certain industries seem to trigger workaholism more than others: Workaholics Anonymous members have set up specific groups for vicars, entrepreneurs, teachers and doctors.

McDowall also said the addiction was often glamourised. “Workaholics look good to organisations: they’re highly engaged, energetic and absorbed by their work,” she said. “It takes time for employers to realise they are actually substantially less productive than their co-workers, can’t work in teams or delegate.”

Prof Gail Kinman, who co-chairs the British Psychological Society’s work-life balance working group, said hybrid working, freelancing and globalisation has “a lot of answer for”. “Hybrid working and freelancing means people can work 24/7 under the radar, and globalisation means you can work across a number of different time zones,” she said.

Marion, 57, has finally given up work after decades of workaholism. “My brain is diseased, I have to accept that,” she said. “I deliberately started candle-making because it was something that I couldn’t put on a CV - then I decided to make it into a business. I got a dog – and immediately began planning to breed her.

Marion is now losing sight in her second eye as well. “Soon I’ll be blind and I need to figure out a way to live like that,” she said. “I may, one day, learn to just ‘be’ and not achieve but I will always carry the lifelong scars of workaholism.”

*All case study names have been changed.

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