The Price of Duty: Burnout's Shadow

As I sit here, staring blankly at the TV screen flickering in the dim light of our living room, I’m reminded of a truth that seems to define my existence - duty. It’s what drives me out of bed every morning to face another day at the credit union, another day of numbers and spreadsheets that blur together like the endless lines on a highway. My mind wanders to my family, to my wife who patiently waits up for me despite knowing I’ll be too exhausted for anything but collapsing onto this very couch.

Anonymous, let me tell you - it’s not the kind of exhaustion you feel after a long hike or a good workout. No, this is different. This is the kind that seeps into your bones, making your eyes heavy and your thoughts slow. It’s what happens when work becomes an all-consuming force in your life. And yet… yet, I wouldn’t trade it. Because beneath all this fatigue is a sense of purpose - providing for my family.

My relationship with my wife has evolved over time. We don’t have wild nights anymore; those are memories from a distant past. Now, it’s about comfort and familiarity. She knows how tired I am most evenings, so she handles things… well, let’s just say she takes care of everything these days. It’s not passion; it’s duty on her part too - marital duty done out of love rather than desire. And while some might see that as sad or unfulfilling, to me it speaks volumes about our love.