It took separation from my ex-husband, countless nights/mornings of crawling back to the elevator (barely making it to my unit), a major surgery, and hitting the wall of burnout for me to realize that I was too vested in work. I even too pride in the fact that I worked while on vacation. I loved the word "workation"! Because that's how I rolled. I was a freelancer. I was passionate about what I did, and I could work wherever I was. Put bluntly, I was a workaholic.