"Why am I the only one still staying on this sinking ship?" — The true nature of the "invisible exhaustion" I faced in an office where everyone else had left

"Oh, not again..."

Yesterday, the desk of a colleague who should have been sitting next to me was completely cleared out. A message flowed into the chat tool: "Today is my last day. Thank you for everything!" It was a message that felt like a template, yet one through which a sense of relief was clearly visible.

For the past few years, such scenes have become a daily occurrence at my workplace. My former comrades-in-arms have left one by one, boarding an ark called "new challenges."

Before I knew it, I had become one of the few "old-timers" left in the company. People around me call me a "knowledgeable veteran" or a "pillar supporting the company," but what I feel inside is not pride.

"Everyone else is quitting, so isn't there something wrong with me for staying here?"

It was an inexplicable anxiety, as if I had been left behind on a sinking ship.

1. I had become a "transparent person"

When you stay for a long time, the way the company treats you changes little by little. You might get a small commemorative gift or a mention in the company newsletter at a work anniversary milestone. But that's it.

When a new employee joins, everyone welcomes them, and when someone says they are quitting, there is a big fuss with attempts to persuade them to stay or farewell parties. Yet, my presence—being there as a matter of course and keeping the work running as a matter of course—had somehow become "transparent," like wallpaper in the background.

Professor Benjamin Laker of the University of Reading in the UK calls this state the "invisibility of loyalty" felt by long-term employees. Devoting yourself to the company is assumed to be the "default setting," and you cease to even be an object of gratitude. This "transparency" slowly wears down your mental stamina.

Before I knew it, I had started playing the role of the "veteran who does their work calmly without complaining" that those around me expected. It is what psychologist Donald Winnicott called a "false self." Even though I wanted to scream, "I'm tired," or "This system is wrong," I kept a mask glued to my face and locked my true feelings deep inside my heart.

2. The invisible labor of repeated "goodbyes"

Colleagues quit. This is not just a clerical issue of "handing over duties." Hidden within it is a more cruel psychological burden called "Ambiguous Loss."

Every time a close colleague leaves, the trust we built up is fragmented, and the comfortable atmosphere of the workplace changes. Each time, I have to rebuild human relationships from scratch and re-adapt to new rules.

"Do I have to explain everything from the beginning again?" "Are those days when we could work in perfect harmony gone forever?"

This is "emotional labor" that cannot be written on a resume and does not appear on a pay stub. The loneliness of continuing to lose companions and the pressure of being the only one who carries the memories of this place. The hearts of those who stay for a long time are worn away little by little, but surely, by these unknown wars of attrition.

3. The discomfort of "past justice" no longer applying

Adding insult to injury are the changes in the workplace. The introduction of new tools, shifts in policy, and the emergence of leaders much younger than myself. The more "new" the organization becomes, the more I feel like a "relic of the past" because I know the old ways.

If I say, "It used to be like this," I'm thought of as an old fogey, but at the same time, my accumulated pride gets in the way of fully riding the new wave.

This is a state close to what is known as "survivor syndrome." Much like the guilt felt by those who remain after layoffs, the self-reproach of "why am I the only one still here?" erodes one's self-esteem.

As the culture changes, feeling as though you are the only one left behind, or that you are the only one clumsily guarding an outdated sign... That sense of discomfort gradually caused me to lose sight of the "value of my presence here."

4. To turn "inertia" into "will"

What saved me from the depths of that despair was a piece of harsh advice from Professor Laker.

I was struck by this. My suffering wasn't just because I was dissatisfied with my current situation, but because I hated that I was "just drifting." Because I had stayed for passive reasons like "I don't have the courage to go elsewhere now" or "at least it pays the bills," I couldn't forgive myself for fading away.

So, I decided to "redefine" my role. To recreate the state of "flow" (immersion) that psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi speaks of, once again in the workplace.

• Becoming a "companion for the young" rather than "just an old-timer": I re-envisioned education not as an "imposed task," but as a project to pass on my knowledge to the next generation.

• Using "old methods" as "modern spice": I took the initiative to propose combining my past failures and successes with new systems.

The important thing was deciding for myself how to use the cards I hold.

Conclusion: Whether you stay or leave, let it be your "decision"

If you are currently feeling anxious about being "left behind while everyone else is quitting," I want you to know this one thing.

You, who have stayed there for a long time, endured the rough waves of change, and kept the organization's memory alive, are by no means "strange." You are a hero who has fought through a more intense war of attrition than anyone else in a place no one sees.

But, if that place has become nothing more than a place that wears down your spirit. If "staying" has become nothing more than a "lack of decision-making."

"Leaving" is also an honest choice.

There is a view that can only be seen because you have been there for a long time. You may take that view with you to a new place, or you may settle down in that place once more to repaint that view.

Whichever you choose, it is a "proud decision" in your life.

"Why am I here?"

When you can hold your own answer to that question, the fog that has been clouding your heart should begin to clear, if only a little.

If this article has touched your heart even a little, please let me know with a "like" or a comment. I am rooting for your "decision."