Workaholism

“Remember, folks: if you were to die tomorrow, HR would find your replacement long before your grave turns cold”

Those who’ve worked with me long enough would recognize this as one of my infamous “unsolicited nuggets of wisdom”, often uttered whenever someone hesitates to take a break especially when their health is at stake.

Ironically, I now find myself guilty of violating the very principle I’ve always preached.

Over the past few months, sleep has turned from a basic need into a luxury. The boundary between work and personal life has all but nearly vanished. Weekends might as well be renamed weekstarts, because honestly it felt like the week never really ends.

And that little green dot beside my name on Teams past midnight? It’s no longer an anomaly but a habit. My colleagues don’t even bother telling me to rest anymore, because they’re not resting either.

I was caught off guard during a recent visit to the optical shop when the ophthalmologist looked at me and asked, verbatim, “Are you okay?” Apparently, my eyes were drier than my bank account, much to his dismay. When a complete stranger starts noticing, you know that’s the final straw.

Azri Walter a.k.a. Temu version of Andrew Tate went viral once for his video championing the controversial “henyak sampai lunyai” (HSL) gospel to the masses. It reignited an age-old contentious debate: Is relentless hustle a sign of strength, or a slow surrender of self?

I’m in my late twenties and by his logic, the lifestyle I’ve been living for the past month would be considered a “necessary evil” for someone my age. But having gone through it firsthand on multiple occasions, I think I’ve earned the right to say:

I don’t think it’s worth it, folks.

It’s dangerously easy to mistake your job for your identity. But really, it’s just the source that funds your upcoming Japan trip, matcha lattes fix, ayam gepuk cravings and maybe your retirement savings. The things that keep you human aren’t in your payslip but in what you do after logging off.

A job should help you live, not slowly drain the life out of you. It should feed your wallet and grant you some sense of purpose instead of consuming your sanity. Grind all you want, but remind yourself that we work to live, not live to work.

The next time you find yourself hesitating to take a break, remember this: No one wins a trophy for being the most overworked person in the room. The world will keep on spinning and the Jira tickets will keep on coming. Takers often know no limits, so we must practice restraint in how much we’re giving at work.

So please, go and take that nap. Close that laptop. Clear your leaves. Trust me, the world can—and should wait. If “henyak sampai lunyai” is the gospel of hustle, then maybe “rehat sampai waras” should be the antithesis.

After all, what good is success if you lose yourself on the way there?