Nervousness of My Nervous System

In the grand cinematic universe of corporate life, I always thought I was playing Iron Wo(man) (minus Jarvis of course !). You know the vibe: building the armor, flying into the fray, and carrying the nuclear missile out of the city because someone has to do it. Except, in my version, my high-tech repulsor beams were powered by an inability to leave an email unread for more than ninety seconds, and the "world-ending threat" was a critical situation, lovingly known as P1 or Sev 1 in the IT world ( and sometimes that wasn’t even in my script)

For those of you who know me, my default modus operandi has always been simple: Get Things Done !.

If there was a fire, I was the first responder. I became the human embodiment of Olivia Pope from Scandal. Walk into any room, face any crisis, look the team in the eye, and say, "It's handled." I did it so often that people literally started nicknaming me Olivia Pope (and I used to beam from ear to ear at that). Let’s be honest, strutting around the corporate arena in a pristine white trench coat feels pretty good for a while.

Mentally, though? My internal arc reactor was flickering. My brain was waving a white flag, begging for a sabbatical on a remote island with absolutely zero Wi-Fi.

Now, for most people, that’s a romantic, hypothetical fantasy. For me, it’s literally where I was born and raised. Broadband used to be a luxury and internet connectivity issues were an everyday test of spiritual patience, I know exactly what true disconnection feels like. And going home during a well earned PTO used to be FOMO Mania for me ‘cause what if there is crisis and I could not respond.

When you consistently deliver, you earn a dangerous currency: credibility. And Oh Boy ! Credibility is a MAGNET. Suddenly, you aren’t just the go-to person for your own role; you are the unofficial consultant, therapist, and savior for things entirely outside your purview.

Because you have a good heart and genuine empathy, you say YES ! (That is a topic in itseslf !). You go above and beyond. You step in to take up the slack for people who treat deadlines like casual suggestions. You tell yourself you’re being a team player, but as Maya Angelou wisely said: “Never make some person a priority when all you are to them is an option.” In the corporate ecosystem, when you constantly absorb other people’s slack, you aren't just being nice you are teaching them that they don't need to step up, because your inner Olivia Pope will always sweep in and "handle" it all the while silently praying that people just do their own thing !

What you don’t realize while you’re busy wearing the cape is the toll it takes on the engine room. Your nervous system doesn’t care about your stellar quarterly review. It just knows it’s been running on adrenaline and cortisol for eighteen months straight. It’s the classic Matrix dilemma: you think you’re controlling the simulation, but the simulation is actually draining your battery.

This isn't just a cautionary tale for the over-achievers; it’s a critical cue for leadership. To the leaders out there: when you see a high performer constantly putting out fires, don’t just reward them with more matches. Like I said earlier please dont live by the mantra, “The reward for good work is more work.” If however, that somehow is your only strategy, you aren't leading; you’re managing a rescue mission !

True leadership means protecting your MVPs from their own urge to over-deliver. It means recognizing that when a high performer's nervous system goes into overdrive, the entire team's stability is at risk. Leaders need to build structures where accountability is distributed evenly, ensuring that ownership doesn't devolve into a solo martyrdom act.

But here is the good news? A nervous system can be reset, and a script can always be rewritten.

Realizing that the world will keep spinning when you take your eye off and get a hair spa, isn't a sign of weakness. Taking a step back isn't abandoning the ship; it’s allowing others the space to learn how to row

It has been a month and half almost since I have hung up the 24/7 "fixer" badge, letting the nervous system take a well-deserved, island-style bandwidth timeout and I am living life in Maintenance Mode.

Remember even My favorite Downey Junior. Mr. Iron Man had to step away from the armor to save himself.

Thank You for reading … God Bless !