This week I took some time off. I usually go for long weekends or the odd special day, but this time I committed to a full week. It fell into place nicely, just after the Summer Party, on the back of some work I'd already delivered and a couple of things I needed to attend to.
I'm not entirely sure why, but I've always felt strange about time off. I can't claim a healthy relationship with it. Don't misunderstand me, I love spending time with my family and I take my mental health seriously. But when I'm off, I feel oddly unsettled.
Part of it is the remote work paradox. When you're home most of the week anyway, not working doesn't automatically mean unplugging. It still feels like being in the office, just without doing anything. To counter that, I usually pair my time off with a small getaway. Nothing elaborate, just enough distance to break the monotony of the same four walls. But planning trips around kids and my partner's job adds friction, and I end up neglecting the rest I'm both entitled to and gently forced to take across the year.
The other explanation lies in my career history. For most of my life I either ran my own companies or held roles where I was effectively always needed, on call even while supposedly on holiday. Add a couple of less-than-great experiences with bosses who weren't thrilled to receive a time-off request, and you start to see where the unease comes from. I never developed a clean or healthy relationship with rest.
The result was flirting with burnout more than once.
I'm experienced enough now to recognise that certain periods of my life weren't just low motivation or bad patches. They were full burnouts, with all the side effects that come with them: mental health, neglected nutrition and exercise, strained relationships with the people closest to me. I may still be new to doing time off properly, but I know with certainty I don't want to go back to that.
What I struggle with most while off is a kind of FOMO. The sense that I'm missing interesting threads, discussions, work I could have contributed to. It feels almost like I can't quite accept that the company moves forward without me. I don't think it's ego, if anything it's the opposite. It's the feeling that I have to prove myself every day, that I don't want to be forgotten. Or maybe, without overcomplicating it, it's just the residue of years spent in roles where unplugging wasn't really an option.
The first couple of days are the hardest. I catch myself checking Slack, double-checking emails, making sure my PRs are still sitting where I left them. Then it eases. I start to enjoy being away from the work, the trip I'm on, the small chores I normally neglect at home.
But that doesn't last forever either. After a week or so, I start to miss my ordinary days. The rush of deadlines, the messy meeting schedule, the time spent thinking through code or planning the next feature. My time off ends, and I find myself in the fortunate position of not dreading the return.
I can do better at this. I need to, for my family and for myself. But I'm slowly reaching a kind of sweet spot, where I genuinely enjoy the days away from my desk and yet don't resent going back to it. That balance feels good. It feels like a privilege.