Nobody tells you about the withdrawal

and what you didn’t expect to miss

It was a typical Sunday evening.

I was lounging on the sofa with my husband and the dog, waiting for that familiar feeling of dread to creep in. But on this particular Sunday, I felt relaxed. For the first time in a long time.

And it felt completely wrong.

You’d think making a positive change would bring me relief. But it didn’t. Not at first, anyway.

A few weeks earlier, I left something that didn’t fit me anymore. Gone were the days where I was so swamped I couldn’t even take a moment to stand up, stretch, or let’s be real, even pee.

I stepped away from hours of meetings and conversations that left me drained, stiff, and playing catch up on my projects, from the emergencies that weren’t actually emergencies, and from the weight of constantly proving my worth.

I stepped toward something that felt liberating yet scary by comparison. Consulting. Although I had done consulting work on and off for years, being self-employed again still felt unfamiliar. And yet, it was a gift to work with clients I chose. Clients who also chose me. Those that gave me zero hoops to jump through just to be heard.

The first day I sat down to dive into a new project, I was on fire. And that continued through the week. It felt incredible. Better than any “high” I’d chased in my old work life, that’s for sure.

By the end of my workday, I felt invigorated, not drained. I had enough leftover energy to get in a great workout and make a healthy meal, rather than my usual: skip the workout, zone out to a mindless reality dating show, and passively scroll Reddit. If you know, you know.

But after a while, the cravings started.

It was like I was in withdrawal from my go-to upper. Hustle culture. Constant noise. An adrenaline loop I had grown to expect. I didn’t know who I was without it. Part of me even missed it. So, I started sifting through job postings. You know the ones. Positions loaded with responsibility, really nice salaries, and of course, the inevitable stress they disguise as “works well under pressure.”

After a few minutes, though, I slammed my laptop shut and said to myself: “Nope. This isn’t you anymore.”

I wish I could say the cravings ended there. But no. I had to resist the urge to feel the stomach flip more than once. It didn’t come down to willpower, either. It was about retraining myself to stop reaching for something that was hurting me. It took a lot of practice, and even now, I still catch myself slipping back into that nasty habit.

It’s kinda funny to me. But equally sad.

What I didn’t expect to grieve wasn’t the steady paycheck or the “security” (if you can even call it that) that comes with a full-time W2 job. It was my addiction to urgency. No longer was I the woman who felt like she constantly had to prove herself. Or the one who took on way too much just to be noticed. The shell of a person with nervous adrenaline running through her veins all day, every day. However unhealthy and exhausting it had all become, it was my normal for a long time.

But slowly, the cortisol spikes began to fade. My nervous system started to recalibrate. And my body relaxed. No more Sunday Scaries. Just Sunday Sleepies. lol

Here’s the thing about withdrawal nobody warns you about: your “drug” of choice doesn’t have to be a substance. It can be a feeling you’re chasing. A job that fills you with anxiety. Or a harmful relationship. And your body won’t know the difference between something poisonous and something that’s routine until you work at alleviating those cravings. In my case, I was addicted to the stress itself. Until it nearly broke me.

So, my friend, what if the thing you keep going back to (the job posts, the toxic situation, the familiar chaos) isn’t a sign that you need it?

What if you’re just not used to being your full self without it yet?

Me and Falcor. Living proof that Sunday Sleepies are real. :)

While you’re here... know that one Sunday evening, maybe soon, you’re gonna be lounging on your sofa too. And instead of bracing for Monday, you’ll just be there. Present. Maybe even napping.

And this time, it’s going to feel completely right.

Let it. 🙂

–Natalie