


Written by Majken Lorelei Matzau
Words shaped by decades in the room with leaders – their struggles, their breakthroughs, and everything in between


Written by Majken Lorelei Matzau
Words shaped by decades in the room with leaders – their struggles, their breakthroughs, and everything in between

Author: Majken Lorelei Matzau
He arrived in my office trembling. A company director in his late forties – successful by every visible measure, well-organized in his personal life, apparently in control. But his hands shook, his eyes avoided mine, and he could barely hold a sentence together. His body had broken down long before his mind was willing to admit it.
Throughout his career he had managed stress through intensity. When the pressure became unbearable, he trained harder. Ironman-level endurance sessions – hours of swimming, cycling, running – had become his primary coping strategy. The exhaustion of extreme physical effort temporarily drowned out the noise of an overstretched nervous system.
It had worked, for a time. Then it stopped working entirely.
A nervous system in collapse needs rest – genuine, undemanding, receptive rest. Not more stimulation, not the productive exhaustion of distance training, not even the disciplined satisfaction of physical achievement. The system needs to be allowed to stop. To feel safe. To have nothing required of it.
Intense exercise, when the body is already in a state of chronic stress, does not release the system – it burdens it further. Cortisol rises, not falls. The already depleted adrenal system is asked to perform yet again. The body, which was already running on fumes, is now being asked to sprint.
He could not stop training. The thought of doing so produced a deeper anxiety than the thought of continuing – because without the training, there was nothing between him and the feeling he had been outrunning for years.
This is the paradox that many high-performing people in stress encounter: the thing that feels like the solution is sustaining the problem. The thing that feels like giving up – genuine rest, radical reduction of stimulation – is the actual path back.
Eventually he underwent psychiatric treatment, where he was prescribed medication. This allowed his nervous system its first real pause in years. From that point, recovery became possible – slowly, with professional support, and with a fundamentally different relationship to his own body.
The body sends signals long before it collapses. The tragedy is not that those signals go unheard. The tragedy is that we have built a culture in which ignoring them is treated as a virtue.

Sign up for my newsletter, and I'll send new articles straight to your inbox

And receive the following:

Contact me – I respond personally within 24 hours – never through an assistant


I respond personally within 24 hours – never through an assistant.