My life has revolved around conflict and the cost of not resolving it.
I’ve suffered from three burnouts in my life and every time I learned new tools and techniques to make myself better.
What I learned worked for me and made me determined to help others suffering from burnout and chronic stress conditions.
Burnout can strike anyone, anytime, anywhere.
My first burnout happened in Curaçao, a slice of heaven in the Caribbean. I was living in paradise, hanging out by the pool all day and partying all night. On the surface, life was incredible but inside I was a mess.
I was a pro at pretending everything was fine.
I put on a mask because I didn’t know it was okay not to be okay.
I spent so much time in front of the mirror trying to look my best and put a brave face on things.
I wore fancy clothes and relied on retail therapy to take my mind off things I couldn’t explain. I couldn’t understand why I felt so bad when on the surface my life was so good.
I was tired all the time. I could sleep for 10 hours and still wake up feeling absolutely drained. I needed caffeine to get going in the morning, sugar to get me through the day and alcohol to unwind at night.
Addiction was a part of my life.
I had chronic pain and I was constantly nauseous and dizzy.
My world was spinning while my life was spiralling out of control.
One morning, I was driving to school where I worked as a teacher. I blacked out and lost control of the car which ended up on the other side of the road.
When I came to it seemed like an eternity had passed.
I had no explanation for what had happened. I was petrified. And so I hid it.
I never spoke about it to anyone.
But the symptoms didn’t go away.
They never do unless you deal with the root cause of the problem.
I’d be at my desk or in the gym when I would pass out. Finally, I want to see a doctor, the first of many.
I was convinced there was something neurological wrong with me. I was hoping for a medical diagnosis, a label to explain why I was feeling so bad.
I remember sitting in a doctor’s office, my fourth or fifth doctor, desperately hoping for an answer that made sense to me.
“I have really good news for you,” the doctor said. “All your tests are negative. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
And I started sobbing. “But that’s not possible, doctor. If nothing is wrong with me, why don’t I feel okay?””
That was the question that started the deep enquiry that led to what I do now. It’s taken me 15 years to find an answer.
The doctor suggested my symptoms were psycho-emotional, that I was suffering from depression and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). I resisted both diagnoses. I was an optimistic and cheerful person most of the time so how could I be depressed? As for PTSD? “No chance,” I said. “I’ve experienced nothing traumatic in my life.”
I completely ignored the fact that a couple of months earlier in July 2006, my heart was broken when Israel invaded Lebanon and I was locked out of my own country. I had returned to my homeland of Lebanon to see my family and meet my nephew for the first time. I had been away for many years and it was an emotional reunion with my family and friends. I felt at peace with the world and myself for the first time in a long time.
While I was home, I planned a four-day trip to Istanbul in Turkey, a city I’d always wanted to visit …
I had an early morning flight and didn’t want to wake up my family.
So I didn’t kiss any of them goodbye because I would see them again in a few days’ time.
Or so I thought. I still had four glorious weeks at home to look forward to.
But I never made it back to Lebanon that summer.
Israel invaded while I was in Istanbul.
Air strikes targeted civilian infrastructure and the airport was shut down.
I was stuck in Istanbul and couldn’t get home.
I couldn’t say goodbye to my family.
I bought a one-way ticket from Istanbul back to Curaçao and I landed at the airport with no luggage, no house key and no car key.
I left everything behind in Lebanon.
I felt drained, confused, disoriented and overwhelmed.
I’d been forced out of my country by conflict and chaos, not for the first time in my life.
When I got back to Curaçao I was anxious and sick with worry all the time.
It was hard to sleep and every morning, I’d wake up with a sense of dread.
The war lasted 34 days but it felt like a lifetime.
Thankfully, none of my family were injured but many Lebanese people were displaced from their homes. I was displaced from my sense of self, my sense of belonging.
That was the start of my journey to find myself again, to find my way home.
When I talk about my journey, people either relate to it right away, or they don’t. Some people say, “I’ve never lived in a war zone so what you do is not applicable to me.”
My story is not about the war.
My story is about not dealing with the internal conflicts caused by the war, chaos and confusion
We’re all fighting an internal battle.
We all have internal chaos to some degree or another. But just because you’re not consciously aware of this internal conflict doesn’t mean it’s not there. It affects your nervous system and it limits you regardless of whether you are aware of it or not.
You don’t have to be born into a warzone to suffer from internal conflicts that limit you and cause burnout.
And you don’t have to suffer in silence.
I’m here to guide you on your journey back to wellness.
Get in touch
