When Doing More And Being Capable Becomes The Problem
The pattern behind overworking, responsibility, and why it doesn’t change just by choosing differently.
What I’ve noticed across hundreds of hours coaching burnt out clients is how excellent they are at spotting issues and solving problems.
Almost too excellent.
They work hard to prove themselves, take on more, fix what’s broken, and stuff expands as their scope, ownership, and expectations grow.
But what starts as momentum and buzz turns into overwork. A long list of priorities then too many moving parts.
And eventually, stagnation, because they’re now managing everything they picked up, and want to pick up, along the way:
“I can’t do x until I’ve done y and z.”
“Can’t you see the bigger picture I’ve got in my head?”
“Look at everything that needs sorting first. Where do i even start?”
It’s possibly why co-workers or bosses don’t see why they’re burning out.
From the outside, it looks like capability or competence. But they don't know the inner struggle or effort.
And to be fair, some systems are actually broken. Under-resourced, poorly structured or not designed to hold the load they’re expected to carry.
But they’ll still take everything you keep giving them.
Is it overwork or over-responsibility?
The harder, maybe more painful, aspect to accept is why you keep giving. Because it doesn’t always feel like overworking. It feels like being responsible. Capable (groan). The one who can handle it.
But it’s a compulsion, an addiction, a vital need when you’re within a system.
I’m on the edge of that space again now, having just chosen a different kind of day job.
Less money. Less pressure on paper. Moving away from an industry I know I can’t stay in without it costing me.
And already, those who know me well are asking:
“How can I help you avoid overworking?”
“What boundaries are you going to put in place this time?”
“Remember what you’re being hired to do. Stick to that.”
Ouch. The frustrating (but magical) thing about having honest loved ones is how they’re pretty much right every time.
My first internal reaction was defensive even though I knew i should listen.
But as I sat on the sofa and contemplated the change, there was something unexpected underneath. A bit of shame, if I’m honest. That I’d ended up here again.
That I felt i couldn’t make it work in a high-paying industry, even though I’ve handled other, much harder things in my life. Real trauma, fear, uncertainty.
There’s also a kind of sadness in it I hadn’t fully named before.
Not just about the job, but about the version of me who could exist in that world. The one who kept up, pushed through, and got it done. But at a real, tangible cost to myself.
A realisation she’s shifting… or maybe already gone.
The pattern doesn’t go away just because you change the environment
The real pattern isn’t just about work, or overwork - that's just the symptom. Below the surface is something that shifts over time without being noticed. Here's how.
I start with boundaries. Clear, contained ones and staying true to my lofty intentions. Until I see something I could fix, can’t resist and step in. Then things get messy.
It doesn’t feel like a problem at the time. It feels like helping. Like I’m contributing and adding value. I love being someone people can rely on. It feels fricking great.
But over time, slowly and surreptitiously, it expands. More responsibility. More ownership. More pressure to keep everything moving.
A C-suite client kept reeling off all the things to get done in our sessions. But they’d also share how they contributed to their workload by suggesting big strategic jobs and then volunteering to deliver them. On top of existing responsibilities!
It was all logical stuff for the business. But layered on top was “because no one else could do it.”
Once it ramps up, and it does, the workload don’t always return to baseline. So the pattern continues: “If I just get this done, then I can rest. Then I can step back. Then I’ll get my evenings back.“
Hmm, do they come back though? Really?
This urge usually shows up around the same point for me. Around the six month mark, or within the first year.
Often when things are less defined. When there’s more at stake or I’ve started joining the dots to create a fully loaded picture of success.
More insidious possibly is when I notice how I’m perceived or how my value could shift.
I get nervous and that’s when the urge latches onto me, so I step in or take on more to prove myself.
The need to be capable, valuable, respected, especially when my self-worth feels shaky, becomes a trap of my own making.
The difficulty of not taking on more responsibility
We don’t carry unhelpful loads or patterns for no reason. It’s often because there’s an upside. A reward of sorts. You just have to look deeper to find it.
Being the one who handles it gives you something.
It makes you feel useful, skilled and in control. Respected. Like nothing will fail on your watch. And it's a high without the drugs.
You also get somewhere to park things you haven’t really dealt with. Because if you’re too busy holding everything else together…
…you don’t have to fully feel what’s shifted in you.
Avoidance is great - until it isn’t.
But what’s the alternative? You resist and don’t step in? Hmmm, that feels worse. Like watching something fall apart in slow motion and choosing not to intervene.
No thanks.
So there you are. Doing it again. Even when you’ve changed your environment. Even when you’ve made different choices.
The old pattern reappears like an awkward colleague from your past you never thought you’d see again.
And he still sucks.
Resist the urge and get picky instead
This is why doing more and being capable becomes the problem. The drive or urge isn’t coming from the work itself.
It’s coming from somewhere deeper that hasn't quite resolved.
I’m not sure what it’ll look like not to fall into this pattern again. I remember early in my career I could do the job and leave work at the office door.
So my test this time is to see something I could take on…and resist the urge.
To let things be slightly messy. To not prove myself through how much I carry or offer. To realise I’ve been hired for a role and to deliver the scope of a job.
Not to deliver the max of my capabilities whilst i disappear. These are two very different modes.
I see the pattern more clearly now, and have people who’ll help maintain guardrails around it.
That’s a great starting point. But only I’ve got the power to enforce it and keep myself sane.
P.S. If you recognise yourself in this, the pull to take on more, even when you don’t want to, share your stories and what’s helped.