Lately, I’ve been noticing something within myself that I think is important to talk about more openly—burnout.
And not the kind that comes from work.
The kind that comes from life.
There’s this common idea that burnout is tied to your profession, your workload, or your career. And while that can absolutely be true, what I’ve come to realize is that burnout can also come from the roles we carry every single day—especially the ones we care deeply about.
As you may know by now, I wear a few different hats. I’m a mother, a clinical social worker, I run my own private practice, and I’m even dipping my toes into the cattle business.
But if I’m being honest… the role that drains me the most at times is motherhood.
And that’s not easy to say out loud.
Because I love being a mother. But loving something and feeling exhausted by it can exist at the same time.
There is a constant level of presence required—showing up, managing, guiding, and holding space for someone else’s emotions and experiences. And when your child is navigating their own struggles, especially related to mental health, that responsibility can feel even heavier.
There are moments where I feel like I have to be “on” all the time. Thoughtful. Patient. Emotionally available. And while those are things I value deeply, they also require energy—real energy.
And the truth is, that kind of emotional output, over time, can become draining.
What’s interesting is that, as a therapist, I understand the tools. I understand the importance of regulation, boundaries, and self-awareness. But being in this field does not exempt me from the realities of being human.
If anything, it makes me more aware of what I’m feeling—but it doesn’t make me immune to it.
Burnout doesn’t always show up as wanting to quit everything. Sometimes it shows up more quietly feeling depleted, having less patience than usual, or noticing that your emotional capacity isn’t what it used to be.
And I think it’s important to say this clearly:
👉 Feeling this way does not make you a bad parent.
👉 It does not mean you’re not grateful.
👉 It does not mean you’re doing something wrong.
It may simply mean that you’ve been carrying a lot for a long time.
🧠Understanding What’s Really Happening: Nervous System Overload
When I started reflecting on why my “cup” feels full so quickly lately, I realized it wasn’t just about being busy—it was about my nervous system.
There’s a difference between being tired and being overloaded.
Nervous system overload happens when your mind and body have been processing, managing, and holding onto more than they’ve had the chance to fully release. It’s not always one big event—it’s often the accumulation of many smaller moments over time.
Showing up for others. Managing emotions. Carrying responsibilities. Staying “on.”
Eventually, your system reaches a point where it simply doesn’t have the same capacity it once did.
And that’s when you start to notice it.
🔍 How to Recognize It
It doesn’t always look obvious.
Sometimes nervous system overload shows up as:
- feeling overwhelmed more easily
- having less patience than usual
- becoming emotionally reactive or shutting down
- feeling drained even after resting
- noticing that small things feel like “too much”
You might find yourself thinking:
“Why is this bothering me so much?”
or
“I used to handle this better.”
And the answer isn’t that you’ve become weaker.
It’s that your system has been carrying more than it can comfortably hold.
🌿 The Window of Tolerance
There’s a concept in mental health called the window of tolerance.
Think of it as the range in which you can handle stress, emotions, and daily life while still feeling relatively grounded and in control.
When you’re within that window:
- you can think clearly
- respond instead of react
- manage emotions more effectively
But when your nervous system is overloaded, that window gets smaller.
So things that once felt manageable now feel overwhelming.
Your reactions feel stronger.
Your capacity feels limited.
And suddenly, your “cup” fills up much faster than it used to.
⚖️ What Can You Tolerate—and Should You?
This is where I think an important shift needs to happen.
We’re often taught to increase our tolerance—to handle more, to push through, to adapt.
But rarely do we ask:
👉 Should I be tolerating this in the first place?
There’s a difference between:
- building resilience
and - constantly overriding your limits
Just because you can tolerate something doesn’t always mean it’s healthy to continue doing so long-term.
Sometimes the work isn’t about expanding your capacity—it’s about honoring your limits.
Recognizing:
- what drains you
- what requires too much emotional output
- what your system is quietly asking you to adjust
đź› Managing Emotional Overwhelm (Gently, Realistically)
Managing this doesn’t mean completely removing your responsibilities—that’s not realistic.
But it can look like:
- giving yourself moments of pause instead of constant output
- allowing yourself to not be “on” all the time
- noticing when your body is signaling overwhelm
- creating small boundaries where you can
And most importantly:
not judging yourself for needing those things.
🌿 Reflection
If your cup feels full more often than it used to, it doesn’t mean something is wrong with you.
It may mean your nervous system has been doing its best to keep up with everything you’ve been carrying.
Survival doesn’t always look like strength—but it is.
And maybe, instead of asking yourself to tolerate more…
it’s time to ask yourself what you need less of.
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