The Day I Broke
I didn’t see it coming.
On paper, everything looked fine. Career, achievements, a future that made sense. But inside, I was crumbling.
The day it all broke wasn’t cinematic. No dramatic collapse in front of a crowd. Just me, alone, realizing I couldn’t keep going. I was exhausted, brittle, hollow.
It wasn’t burnout from overwork. It was burnout from living someone else’s life.
That breakdown, as devastating as it felt, was also the beginning. Because when everything cracks, you finally see what’s underneath.
The Problem: Borrowed Lives, Broken Minds
Many of us live borrowed lives. Careers shaped by cultural scripts, family expectations, LinkedIn aesthetics. We perform the roles, wear the costumes, check the boxes.
Until we can’t.
Stats say:
- WHO classifies burnout as an “occupational phenomenon,” noting symptoms of exhaustion, cynicism, and inefficacy. Global prevalence: 42% of workers report regular burnout symptoms.
- A Deloitte survey found that 77% of professionals have experienced burnout in their current job.
- Neurodivergent individuals, including those with ADHD, report higher rates of stress-related breakdowns, often due to masking and misalignment.
The truth: burnout isn’t just too much work. It’s too much misalignment. And misalignment eventually breaks you.
Personal Anecdote: My Breakdown
For me, the breakdown came after years of forcing myself into roles that looked good but felt wrong. I had numbers to show. Colleagues who admired me. Parents who were proud.
But inside, I was disappearing.
The moment of collapse wasn’t glamorous. I was living in Portugal with my lovely girlfriend and we had just bought a beautiful apartment in the suburbs of Lisbon. It was the end of a gorgeous summer, life was looking great. But one day, I lost my job, my girlfriend dumped me, my entire life vanished from under my feet. I had to move out of our lovely apartment, pack my stuff and go back to France.
Life had already tried to give me warnings, nudges that I obviously didn't pay attention to, but this time, it made itself crystal clear. This life was over. I was back to ground zero. Actually, less than zero.
That was my reckoning. It took me three years to realize that survival meant... reinvention.
Framework: Breakdown as Beginning
Here’s the thing nobody tells you: breakdowns are beginnings in disguise.
Crisis = Clarity.
When the old system collapses, you see what actually matters.
Break = Space.
Space to question, to rest, to rethink.
Reinvention = Choice.
The chance to stop living someone else’s story and start writing your own.
Psychologists call this post-traumatic growth: the idea that crises can catalyze transformation. Research in Psychological Science shows that people who experience breakdowns often report greater meaning, stronger relationships, and new possibilities afterward.
Breakdown is brutal. But it’s also fertile ground.
Data: Why Reinvention Works
The stats that support reinvention:
- A Harvard study on resilience found that individuals who reframed crises as opportunities for growth bounced back 2x faster than those who didn’t.
- Carol Dweck’s research on growth mindset shows that people who see failure as feedback achieve higher long-term success rates.
- A Stanford Life Design Lab survey found that people who reinvented careers after burnout reported higher satisfaction and alignment than those who stayed stuck.
In other words: collapse clears the stage for reinvention.
ADHD, Breakdown, and Change
For ADHD brains, breakdown often comes sooner. Why?
Masking fatigue.
Pretending to be neurotypical drains energy until it implodes.
Overcompensation.
ADHD high-achievers often push harder, leading to faster burnout.
Change as necessity.
ADHD brains crave novelty and reinvention; staying misaligned is torture.
But here’s the upside: ADHD also makes reinvention more natural. We adapt quickly. We pivot with energy. We turn breakdowns into experiments.
Personal Shift: Embracing Change & Feedback
After my breakdown, I made a choice: I wouldn’t see change as a threat. I’d see it as oxygen.
I started small: new projects, new ways of working, new collaborations. Every change, instead of terrifying me, became proof that I wasn’t stuck.
And I reframed feedback too. Before, I took it as criticism. After, I saw it as data. Not judgment. Not proof I’d failed. Just input. A gift.
That shift, from fear to curiosity, was the heart of my reinvention.
Actionable Takeaways
If you’re at your own breaking point, here’s what helped me:
Name the Misalignment.
Write down where your life doesn’t feel like yours. Clarity is power.
Rest First. Recovery isn’t optional.
A broken system can’t reinvent without rest.
Prototype Reinvention.
Don’t leap into a new identity. Test micro-shifts: a project, a collaboration, a new practice.
Reframe Feedback.
Treat every critique as data. Mine it, don’t fear it.
See Change as Survival.
Change isn’t disruption. Change is oxygen.
Conclusion: Reinvention as a Gift
My breakdown felt like an ending. But it was really an opening.
It forced me to stop living someone else’s life and start designing my own. It turned fear of change into a love of possibility. It transformed feedback from poison into gift.
And it taught me this: breakdowns don’t define you. Reinvention does.
Because life isn’t about avoiding collapse. It’s about using collapse to build something undeniable.
