My name is Régis, and I’m 47 years old. At the age of 10, I discovered computing and very quickly it became a passion, to the point where I made it my career - a career I’ve loved for 25 years. Working as a freelancer brings me intellectual stimulation, social recognition and financial security, but at what cost?
My first burnout. In 2009, the machine seizes up. Within six months, my dad dies, I lose a contract that accounts for nearly 80 per cent of my turnover, and I work day and night, seven days a week, to make up for this loss and keep my staff on. I lose control; I am no longer myself. The mother of my two children, aged 3 and 6, leaves me after 15 years together. I am on my way to the office, stopped at a traffic light. It keeps switching from green to red. I can’t get into first gear; my body no longer responds, and I refuse to accept it. I am in burnout.
Life goes on. After six months off, I go back to work. But have I learnt my lesson? I’m trying to get back on my feet; I’m realising certain things, but I’m not tackling the underlying problems. Year after year, I pay less and less attention to the all-too-familiar warning signs that the dizzying fall is imminent. My days consist solely of work, with my only comfort being stuffing my face. I listen to nothing and no one, not even my own body - so heavy to bear - which is screaming in pain.
Here we go again: a second burnout. March 2017. History repeats itself. Within 48 hours, I lose the assignment I’d been working on for over a year. Once again not myself, I leave, of my own accord, the person I have loved so deeply for over three years. I’m lost, I’m sinking, I’m plummeting, I’ve hit rock bottom. I’m in burnout.
What if I listened to my body and my heart? I’m suffering. I’m suffering terribly, both physically and mentally, and I’m causing pain to the people who love me and who are so dear to me. I ask myself questions. I come to realise this, and I accept my condition.
Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. Albert Einstein. We have two lives, and the second begins when we realise we only have one. Confucius.
These quotes resonate with me, as if they were self-evident truths, as invitations to take action, to change things. I weigh 132 kg. Just tying my shoelaces leaves me breathless and I need several minutes to catch my breath. The elastic band of my life is on the verge of snapping. I decide to listen to my body and my heart - for my own sake first and foremost, but also for the sake of all the people I love and who love me: my children, my mum, my partner.
Another me. March 2018. Today, I’m below the fateful 100 kg mark. In one year, I’ve lost a quarter of my weight: 33 kg, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to my transformation. I’m watching what I eat. I exercise. I lead a more balanced life and have exciting plans with my partner, whom I’ve reconnected with. I feel good. I’m happy. Aware of how far I’ve come and where I’ve been, a second life opens up before me. I remain vigilant. I want to share this experience with you.
I believe in myself, I believe in love, I believe in resilience. On to new adventures...