Betrayed by Work

Her expectations may sound naive, but, as a result of court-ordered desegregation in the 1960s, she had been among the first of four African-American students to attend an all-white high school in the South, where she coped with vicious racial epithets and cold stares. And she had other jobs where she believed management was racist.

So why did her experience at the bank destroy her emotionally? After all she'd been through in her past, why had this particular situation given her anxiety and choking attacks?

Like so many of Philipson's patients, she had been seduced by the new-economy workplace -- the after-work beer parties, the upbeat slogans, the team-building exercises, all of which made work feel like lots of fun and helped lull her into a false sense of security. "When you're calling the CEO by his first name, and he's hanging out, dressed just like you, it's a lot easier for you to lose sight of the power dynamics," says Philipson, adding that the average age of her patients is 42.

Other therapists have also been seeing patients who have lost themselves in work. "The workplace has become their community center -- where they work out, get a massage, go to parties," says Maynard Brusman, 52, a consulting psychologist in San Francisco. "They come to me anxious, and they don't know why. They've become caught up in the culture. The question is, Is that healthy? From what I've seen, it isn't."

Take Karin Hanson, for instance: She had watched her own sister, Janel Schulenberg, fall apart because she got too close to work. Yet Hanson, 47, became so enamored with the culture at Microsoft that a few years later, she too found herself feeling depressed, angry, and betrayed. Hanson, a program manager in developer relations, spent her first five years at Microsoft blissfully happy, working with a team leader who knew how to motivate her and make her feel that she was appreciated. She talks fondly of the team lunches, going bowling, and weekly feedback sessions. She admired Bill Gates, whom she met at various Microsoft functions, and was proud of her work with Bay Area startups.

Her job got her through an ugly divorce that included going to court eight times. "Microsoft made me feel like a genuine contributor," says Hanson, a mother of three. "When you have that, you can handle almost anything."

But when her team leader left Microsoft, she found herself with a boss who spent most of his time surfing the Web for pornography, and then with another boss who didn't take her seriously and who eventually demoted her, claiming it was "an adjustment," not a demotion. "I felt like I was worth less than zero," Hanson recalls.

Depressed and unable to concentrate, she began seeing a therapist, started taking antidepressants, and she took a three-month medical leave from Microsoft in 1998. Soon after she returned, she quit. Now she is a consultant to ZD Studios, an event-management company, and she vows never to work on staff at another company again. "Microsoft hurt me," she says. "I gave that company a lot. I won't do that again."

Philipson has heard such stories many times over, and she believes that they point to yet another characteristic of those who are at risk of feeling betrayed by work: These people do not have full personal lives that provide the sense of purpose, identity, and community that we all need. As alluring as the new world of work can be, she says, you will not overly invest yourself in it if you feel appreciated and connected in your personal life.

None of Philipson's patients talk very much about interacting with neighbors, regularly planning get-togethers with friends, or participating in group activities, such as serving as volunteers. Few are active in religious organizations. Many literally do not know what to do with themselves outside work -- even when they have families. (In fact, 44% of her patients have children under the age of 18.) "It's not that they are workaholics who are addicted to work," says Philipson. "It's that they are addicted to the praise they get at work."

When Perry-Pastor, for example, began working at the nursery in 1989, she threw herself into her work to escape a bad marriage. Working 12-hour days, she would even bring her infant daughter into her office so that she could work into the night while her daughter slept. Like most of Philipson's patients, she was good at her job and began to crave the accolades she received there. "It felt good to feel needed," she says. "People would say, Give it to Yolanda, she can do it.' And I'd say, 'Yes I can!' "

So when her husband died in 1995, her long hours continued -- despite now being the single mother of two little children. As she was promoted and the company went through downsizing, she began working every Saturday and, during the busy seasons, Sundays as well -- her children in tow.