When Whatsapp calls, I'm momentarily confused and don't recognize anyone. Where are all those Wall Street sharks, management gods, investment wizards, and cocky businesswomen from colorful photo shoots? The person who appears in the window of my phone makes me want to hug him or her and take them out of their life.
The details of the stories change, but I feel like I'm in an Andy Warhol exhibition: tired, wildly tortured, pinned down, looking 20 years older than their passport says, and telling me this:
- Everything I loved, I hate now
- I don't want anything.
- Started taking on projects just for the money and burned out. Total apathy, I wanted to shut everything down.
- Now I wake up at 4 a.m. in a panic.
- I couldn't physically put myself in the car to go to work.
- Sick and wondering what money I could get out of bed for now.
- I'm getting self-sabotaged - forgetting appointments, not writing anything down.
- Work made me sick, I didn't want to go there.
- There should be dopamine at the end of the work done, but there isn't.