The Exhaustion We Don’t Talk About

Why chronic stress can leave your nervous system exhausted—even when you’re still functioning, working, parenting, leading, and getting everything done.

By Danielle Henry, LMFT
Approx. 6-minute read

There should be an Olympic event for emotional transitioning. Seriously.

One minute you’re leading a meeting like you’ve got your life together. Twenty-three minutes later you’re in the Target parking lot Googling, “Can you make chicken in an air fryer if it’s still kind of frozen?”

You answer an email.

You remember you forgot to RSVP.

You text your mom back… three days later.

You sign the permission slip.

You listen to your friend who’s having a hard week.

You check the news.

Immediately regret checking the news.

You answer one more Slack message because it’ll only take a second.

(It never takes a second.)

And then, somewhere around 9:47 p.m., you finally sit down.

Only to realize…

You have absolutely no idea how to relax anymore.

When “I’m Fine” Actually Means “I’m Functioning”

I think we’ve gotten really good at confusing functioning with feeling okay.

They’re not the same thing.

You can be incredibly responsible and deeply depleted.

You can love your work and still be tired of making decisions.

You can adore your children and still fantasize about checking into a hotel by yourself where absolutely no one asks you where the scissors are.

If you know, you know.

And because we’re still functioning, we don’t always recognize what’s happening as exhaustion.

We think exhaustion should look like not being able to get out of bed.

Sometimes it does.

But sometimes exhaustion gets dressed, leads the meeting, makes the appointment, remembers spirit week, picks somebody up from soccer, asks everyone how their day was—and keeps going.

That’s part of what makes high-functioning exhaustion so easy to miss.

What Nervous System Exhaustion Can Feel Like

“Nervous system exhaustion” isn’t a clinical diagnosis. It’s a useful way of describing what can happen when our bodies spend prolonged periods responding to stress, stimulation, responsibility, uncertainty, and constant demand.

And it doesn’t always feel like tired.

Sometimes it looks more like:

• You’re exhausted, but can’t settle.
• Everyone suddenly seems very loud.
• One additional request feels disproportionately irritating.
• You’re scrolling but not actually absorbing anything.
• Making another decision feels impossible.
• You’re more reactive with the people you love.
• Your concentration isn’t what it usually is.
• You finally get time to rest… and somehow don’t know what to do with yourself.

Your body may be physically still while your mind remains at work.

That’s an important distinction.

Because stopping isn’t always the same thing as recovering.

Why Rest Doesn’t Always Feel Restful

Here’s where things get interesting.

Because many of us are resting. Technically.

We’re on the couch. But we’re also scrolling.

Checking tomorrow’s calendar. Responding to a text. Ordering the thing. Reading the news. Watching Netflix while simultaneously thinking about Tuesday. Researching something we suddenly decided we absolutely needed to understand at 10:43 p.m.

Our bodies stopped moving.

Our attention didn’t.

Maybe that’s part of the exhaustion we don’t talk about.

Not simply that we’re doing too much.

But that we’re almost never completely off.

Even our downtime has become another place for input.

Please Don’t Turn Regulation Into Another Thing You’re Failing At

Of course, modern wellness culture has an answer for this.

• Optimize harder!
• Wake up earlier.
• Get another planner.
• Track your sleep.
• Track your steps.
• Track your water.
• Journal.
• Meditate.
• Meal prep.
• Read ten pages.
• Practice gratitude.
• Do Pilates.

And apparently we’re supposed to accomplish all of this before our children wake up.

Respectfully…

I’m already tired.

There is absolutely a place for routines, movement, mindfulness, sleep, and intentional living.

But nervous system regulation doesn’t need to become another performance metric.

You don’t get a gold star because you regulated before 6 a.m.

Sometimes what your body needs isn’t another habit to master.

Sometimes it needs less.

Sometimes Regulation Looks Like an Aloe Plant Named Viveca Fox

A few weeks ago, I found myself cleaning up my very wild aloe vera plant, Viveca Fox.

Yes. That’s her name.

She’d been on the struggle bus and, frankly, needed some attention.

So there I was.

No podcast.

No phone.

No multitasking.

Just water, dirt under my nails, dead leaves that needed trimming, and the quiet rhythm of caring for something living.

And somewhere in the middle of it, I noticed my shoulders drop.

My breathing slowed.

My body was arriving.

I wasn’t accomplishing anything particularly impressive.

I wasn’t “working on myself.”

I wasn’t optimizing.

For a few minutes, absolutely nothing needed me.

And perhaps that’s why it felt so restorative.

Regulation doesn’t always have to look like wellness.

• It can be music.
• Gardening.
• Cooking without rushing.
• Sitting outside.
• Moving because it feels good.
• Laughing until your stomach hurts.
• Being around someone you don’t have to perform for.
• Or sitting in your car for five quiet minutes before walking into the house.

Which has led me to a question I’m asking myself more often:

What tells my nervous system that the emergency is over?

Not my mind. My body. Because those can be two very different conversations.

Try This Before Adding Anything Else to Your Routine

Instead of adding another wellness practice this week, notice your transitions.

Pick one you make almost every day:

Work → Home
Parent → Professional
Caregiver → Partner
Busy → Bedtime
Weekend → Workweek

Then give yourself a little space between the two.

Walk around the block before going inside.

Change your clothes when the workday ends.

Put your phone away during the drive.

Sit quietly for five minutes.

Choose one song that signals, We’re done for today.

Nothing elaborate.

Nothing to perfect.

You’re simply giving your nervous system an opportunity to arrive where your calendar already says you are.