How I survived my toxic job (without losing my mind)
When you can't just quit, yet.
After I published last week’s article, I got a lot of private messages.
Friends. Old coworkers. Acquaintances I hadn’t heard from in years.
They all said some version of: “I’ve been there” or “I’m still there.”
Some said I was brave for writing it.
Maybe it was brave. But mostly, it was scared-me clawing back power through words.
It’s also easier to write these things when you’re already out.
What’s harder is being in it.
Showing up every day to a job that chips away at your energy and sense of self, and feeling like you have no way out.
This post is for the people still in it.
The ones who feel stuck—financially, psychologically, practically. I know how that feels.
These aren’t fixes. They’re survival tools. The things that helped me stay grounded until I got out.
1. Know why you’re staying, and what’s keeping you stuck.
If you’re going to stay, get honest about why.
Why are you still there?
Maybe it’s practical: You need the income. You’re waiting out a visa. You’re about to go on maternity leave. Those are all valid reasons.
Knowing your reason gives the discomfort a frame. “I’m staying because...” helps the day-to-day feel less pointless.
But also ask yourself: What’s stopping me from leaving?
Is it practical, or psychological? Is it true, or inherited conditioning?
What story are you telling yourself about why you can’t leave?
Maybe you want to be “responsible.” You’re afraid of starting over. You’ve convinced yourself that all companies are toxic. That no one else will want you. That you're too old, too much, too late.
None of those are true.
Here’s a quote that hit me from The Artist’s Way:
“‘I’m too old for that’ ranks with ‘I don’t have money for it’ as a Great Block Lie we use to prevent further exploration.”
The good thing is, you don’t need to take a leap today.
But naming the real reason you’re staying—valid or not—can loosen the grip. It brings clarity. And with clarity comes choice.
2. Protect your mornings like your life depends on it.
When your job feels overwhelming or chaotic, you need to carve out something quiet and consistent. For me, that’s my morning routine.
I started getting up 30 minutes earlier to have some sacred space that was just mine.
I'd sit in silence with my matcha, do a short meditation, or just breathe.
Sometimes I’d visualize my day ahead—meetings going smoothly, energy flowing where it needed to.
Sometimes I’d imagine a bubble around myself to protect my energy.
Some days I’d just repeat affirmations like:
I know who I am. My energy is mine. I don’t need to absorb what’s not mine.
It wasn’t magic. But it gave me a little sense of control.
3. When work is trying to brainwash you, counter-brainwash yourself.
When your day is filled with gaslighting, drama, or straight-up nonsense, you need counter-voices.
I use my commute time to counter-brainwash myself.
I’d listen to Abraham Hicks, Neville Goddard, Joe Dispenza. They reminded me that even when I couldn’t change my circumstances, I could choose my perspective.
That how I feel is my first form of power. That contrast is useful: when you see what you don’t want, you get clearer on what you do want.
One quote that really stuck with me (wish I remembered who said it):
“Struggle isn’t punishment, it’s preparation. The storm is here to build something that comfort never could.”
That helped me. It made the hard days feel like they had a purpose.
But here’s the disclaimer: this mindset is a tool—not an excuse. It can help you cope, but it can also become a reason to stay too long.
I’ve had HR people (and my own parents) tell me how the chaos and dysfunction "builds character." But there’s a difference between finding meaning in a hard situation and using that meaning to excuse bad behavior.
Growth doesn’t mean tolerating dysfunction. You can find meaning in struggle without romanticizing it.
4. Zoom in on the little moments of goodness.
While the scale is obviously incomparable, I kept thinking about the emotional logic of Life is Beautiful: the quiet resilience of finding beauty in small things when the system around you feels broken.
Sometimes survival is about finding slivers of goodness inside the dumpster fire.
And you can always find something good to appreciate. I loved our office's location. The free snacks. The WFH flexibility. The coworkers who were resilient, smart, and kind. The one window with good light. My paycheck. The tiny pleasures I could still enjoy.
You can hold gratitude and discontent at the same time.
5. Find your work besties. The ones in the trenches with you.
The loneliness is often the worst part.
You look around and think, how is everyone else okay with this? Am I the only one feeling like crap? Everyone looks calm. Everyone’s smiling. Everyone’s doing fine.
But I promise—so many people are struggling quietly. Hiding the same dread. Pretending they’re okay because that’s what the environment expects.
If my inbox is any indication, most of them are not fine. I bet more people are feeling the same way as you. Find those people. They are your people.
My work besties saved me.
Someone to message “WTF was that?” after a gaslight-y meeting.
Someone to fill you in on what just went down in another department so you know you’re not being paranoid.
Someone to roll their eyes with you when the latest reorg email drops.
We made each other laugh when nothing was funny. We swapped strategies. We warned each other about the landmines.
Having someone else say, “Yeah, that was messed up” made it a lot easier to keep showing up.
Going through that kind of dysfunction together bonds you.
Deeply. Strangely. For life.
The people who were in the shit with me are still in my life today. 🫶
6. Don’t let work eat your whole life.
This sounds obvious, but it’s easier said than done.
Toxic jobs expand to fill every crevice if you let them. So I created pockets of my identity that had nothing to do with work: yoga, journaling, walks, TV, dinner with friends. Just... anything that reminded me I existed beyond Slack, strategy docs, and leadership reviews that felt like interrogations.
Even when I was exhausted, showing up for myself in those small ways helped me feel more like a person.
7. Keep a circle outside of work who can remind you what’s real.
Inside a toxic company, it’s surprisingly easy to normalize the chaos.
You adapt. You get used to the gaslighting, the instability, the micromanagement, the double standards. Eventually, it stops feeling shocking. It just becomes...the way things are.
Hard Fork, a podcast I listened to, recently talked about this exact thing—but in the context of Trump. How at first, the things he did were shocking. Outrageous.
And then, over time, we got desensitized. We stopped reacting. That’s what humans do—we adjust. We normalize what we’re repeatedly exposed to.
But that’s also really dangerous.
That’s what happens in toxic workplaces, too.
The things you once thought were unacceptable become your new baseline. You start accepting them as normal.
That’s why you need people outside of that bubble, people who can say,
“Wait, that’s not okay.”
“That’s not normal.”
“You don’t have to put up with that.”
Because sometimes the only way to re-orient yourself is to be reminded by someone outside the bubble who still remembers what healthy looks like.
The idea of ‘job security’ is mostly a scam.
None of these tips are long-term solutions. They’re just what helped me survive until I could leave.
I used to tell myself I couldn’t quit because I needed the paycheck.
I had savings. I had a cushion. I just didn’t feel safe letting myself use it.
And I know not everyone has that—but I also think many of us overestimate how much we need. We build our lives around fear and imagined worst-case scenarios. And we call that “security.”
But what’s actually secure about working in a place that’s destroying your nervous system? Where your role could be eliminated tomorrow if someone higher up changes their mind?
This is especially true with AI coming to take our jobs.
Your boss or investors could decide to automate your role tomorrow using AI agents.
No job is truly “secure,” so we might as well bet on ourselves.
The truth is, your job doesn’t keep you safe. You do.
Your capacity to choose differently. To walk away. To rebuild.
Your energy is the most valuable asset you have. And it’s worth protecting.
You don’t have to take a scary big leap. Just move.
If leaving feels too big right now, start smaller. You can take small steps to reclaim your power. Little by little.
Update your resume. Browse job listings. Take on a freelance gig. Learn a new skill. Start saying no to 6pm meetings. Stop checking Slack after 8pm.
Power comes back in pieces.
And when it’s time to go, it won’t feel like a leap. It’ll feel like the next natural step.
Whether you’re quietly navigating this or ready to choose yourself, I’m here with you.
Big love,
Joei
p.s. If this hit home, I’d love to hear how. Leave a comment, reply directly, or share it with someone who might need it.