The Hidden Trauma Behind Overworking

I Thought It Was Just Work Stress, Then My Clients Showed Me It Was Trauma

I used to believe most people just needed better work-life balance. A calendar tweak here, a “no” there, and boom, problem solved.

But the more I listened to clients, the more something didn’t add up. These weren’t disorganized people. They weren’t unaware. They weren’t flailing. In fact, many were the opposite: high-achievers, top performers, first to arrive and last to leave.

What they were dealing with wasn’t a time issue.
It was a pattern issue.
And more specifically, a trauma pattern.

Why Some “Professional Struggles” Are Actually Trauma in a Business Suit

At first glance, trauma and work might seem like two different topics. Trauma sounds clinical. Work sounds tactical. But that’s exactly where the confusion begins.

When I refer to trauma in this context, I’m not talking about one big traumatic event, like being held at gunpoint. I’m talking about a series of experiences you had growing up that you perceived or interpreted in a particular way. Those experiences created emotions and nervous system wiring that lead to beliefs like: “I’m not good enough,” “my needs aren’t important,” “love is conditional.” This is often referred to as relational trauma or complex trauma.

Trauma, at its core, isn’t just about what happened. It’s about what your nervous system learned to do to survive, and the imprint the experience(s) left on you, long after the threat was gone.

And your nervous system doesn’t care whether you’re in a childhood bedroom or a glass-walled office. If it picks up on signals that feel like past “danger”: criticism, disapproval, chaos, power imbalance, it responds the same way: protect, avoid, appease, shut down.

So yes, trauma shows up at work. All the time. It just hides behind productivity, ambition, people-pleasing, perfectionism, and burnout.

The High-Achiever Trap: When Working Hard Is a Coping Mechanism

One of the most common patterns I see is overworking that doesn’t respond to rest. These are the people who take time off and still feel on edge. They delegate but can’t relax. They set boundaries and then feel uncomfortable the whole time.

When we unpack that pattern, a few things usually show up:

• A childhood where achievement = worth

• Inattentive or critical caregivers

• Environments where downtime triggered criticism or shame

What starts as survival (“If I perform, I’ll be safe/valued/loved”) becomes internalized. The behavior sticks. Even when the threat is long gone.

There’s neuroscience behind this too. The brain wires habits around threat cues. If “being still” once meant “getting shamed for being lazy,” the amygdala (the brain’s threat detector) flags rest as risky. So the person works, not because they love it, but because it feels safer than stopping.

Feedback Feels Like Attack? There’s a Reason

Another pattern I’ve seen is extreme sensitivity to feedback — even when it’s delivered gently.

One client told me she’d feel a physical jolt in her chest when her boss said, “Can we talk for a minute?” Nothing had even been said yet, but her nervous system was already in defense mode.

Why? Because in her past, “We need to talk” never meant something neutral. It meant something was wrong. Her body was trained to expect danger.

This is where the concept of neuroception (coined by Dr. Stephen Porges) comes in. It’s the nervous system’s ability to detect safety or threat without conscious thought. People who’ve experienced trauma often have a hyperactive neuroceptive system, meaning they pick up on subtle shifts in tone or facial expression and respond automatically, as if the threat is happening right now.

So that one-line Slack message? It hits like a truck. Not because they’re fragile, but because their nervous system has been conditioned to prepare for the worst.

The People-Pleaser Problem

I’ve worked with folks who agree to everything, never complain, and constantly buffer conflict, even when it costs them energy, clarity, or fairness.

When I ask them why, they often shrug and say, “I don’t want to be difficult” or “I say yes before I even have time to think about whether I really want to do something.” But when we explore more, a pattern surfaces: conflict used to equal loss. Loss of connection. Loss of stability. Loss of control.

So now, in the workplace, disagreement doesn’t feel like a discussion. It feels like danger. That response isn’t “bad behavior.” It’s a defensive loop trying to avoid pain, even at the expense of clarity or boundaries.

Boundaries Feel Un safe - Even When They’re Needed

Setting a boundary sounds simple. “Just say no.” Right?

But for many clients I’ve worked with, that “no” gets stuck in their throat. Not because they don’t understand their limits, but because they’ve internalized the idea that having needs creates conflict or burdens others.

Often, these individuals were praised for being “easy,” “helpful,” or “selfless” growing up, which subtly trained them to keep their needs hidden. And now, at work, asking for time off or pushing back on unfair tasks feels like risking connection.

The logic is buried deep. “If I ask for what I need, I might be seen as ungrateful….or worse, selfish.”

This is where polyvagal theory comes in (developed by Porges again). When someone feels unsafe, not consciously, but physiologically, their body shifts into a state of fight, flight, appeasement (aka fawning), or collapse. It’s not a thought. It’s an automatic response.

So What Do You Do About It?

Here’s what I’ve learned:
Trying to fix trauma-driven work patterns with time management tricks is like putting a band-aid on a smoke alarm. You’re reacting to the noise without checking for fire.

The better move? Start noticing the patterns. Ask simple questions:

• Why does feedback feel so loaded?

• Why do I freeze when I need to say no?

• What would happen emotionally if I stopped overworking?

• Where did I learn that I had to be this way?

You don’t have to blow up your career to shift.
You don’t need to announce your trauma to your team.
But you do need to be honest with yourself about what’s running the show, your present-day values or your past survival strategies.

And once you start spotting the patterns, things loosen. Slowly, but surely. Not perfect, not polished. But real.

If this post hit a little too close to home… there’s more where this came from.
My new book, Unpacked, is all about how early survival patterns show up in adult life, especially at work, and how to finally stop letting old wiring call the shots.

It’s out September 16th, and it’s packed with stories, real-life examples, and no-fluff tools to help you make sense of what’s been running underneath the surface for years.

👉 You can preorder it and be the first to get it when it drops.