Burnout, Breakdown, and the Beginning of Healing

This is post number 2 of a series. If you’re a fan of going in order, read Feeling Great is a Practice, Not a Product first!

At 25, I should have been at the peak of my vitality. Instead, I was collapsing during shifts at one of the most prestigious restaurants in the United States.

Breaking Into a Man’s World

It was 2007, and I was a line cook at a 5-star, 5-diamond restaurant in Atlanta called the Dining Room. At the time it was the crown jewel of the illustrious Ritz-Carlton hotel chain. I was so proud to work there, and even prouder of the fact that as a woman I had managed to make it onto the hot line, working sauté next to the sous chef who cooked all the proteins. I was learning so much.

Professional kitchens were still very much a man’s world, to prove I belonged, I had to work  hard and disassociate emotionally on a regular basis. It was a demanding job. Long hours and total focus were necessary. Me and the pastry chef were on a tiny island surrounded by a cesspool of toxic masculinity. Every day I fought to maintain my position in that kitchen, to show I belonged there just as much as any man did. I had to tolerate coworkers who didn’t want to take no for an answer, one even cornering me in the walkin cooler, another literally grabbing me by the p***y, and I’ll never forget reaching for a small piece of bread one time while I was probably at my skinniest, only to have my manager come by and grab my ass and verbally advise me against indulging.

The Unraveling

That last anecdote happened after a particularly rough breakup, and I was spiraling. The stress of the kitchen combined with emotional turmoil in my personal life created the perfect storm.

I got into the habit of just spitting everything I tasted into a trash can. I only allowed myself a few chunks of parmesan and some Medjool dates from the walk-in cooler every day, supplemented with all the espresso my broken heart desired.

Needless to say, it didn’t end well. Eventually, I couldn’t stay upright for the duration of my shift. Hotel security got tired of triaging me, and I lost that position I had worked so incredibly hard for.

The Collapse

For several months I couldn’t work at all, and then when I could, I could only manage 15 hours a week for about a year. Anything more and I would just collapse again. It was heartbreaking to watch my career momentum slip away. I had sacrificed so much for it.

Looking back, I was probably suffering from a self-inflicted bout with a thyroid condition called Graves’ disease—something I would later be diagnosed with in my early 40’s during the pandemic. The symptoms felt strikingly similar both times. My body kind of felt like when you’re riding your bike and the chain slips off the crank. You keep pedaling and pedaling but you don’t go anywhere and the whole sensation just feels extremely wrong. The medical doctor did zero bloodwork,  diagnosed me with mono and wrote me a prescription for anti-anxiety meds. My homeopathic doctor did zero blood work and told me I had a hypo-thyroid condition and started treating me for it with some really disgusting bovine adrenal supplements. These supplements turned out to be extremely dangerous because I had the exact opposite of what he diagnosed me with.  Nobody bothered to ask me if I was eating. I went home and slept on the couch for three full days. My body just sort of shut down.

The Beginning of Healing

This collapse became the beginning of my wellness journey. I decided that getting healthy again deserved my full attention. The kitchen had taught me discipline and attention to detail—now I needed to apply those skills to healing my body. I didn’t really know what I was doing for a while, but at least I was trying. Slowly things started to improve. Getting better doctors, starting therapy, and learning to love and respect myself helped a lot.

Everything I share with you today is rooted in that experience. Sometimes we need to hit rock bottom before we can truly understand what matters most.

[Next week: How I rebuilt my relationship with food after losing everything]