Feeling Overwhelmed? Maybe You Need Less to Carry

A commitment to show up and write my truth | Day 259 of 365

I woke up in the middle of the night running through everything I had to do.

One person needed my help. Someone else needed me to fix a problem. Another had advice, another had a program, and someone else had the thing that was definitely, absolutely, probably going to change my life.

Apparently, everyone is a magician now.

And still, nobody is solving my actual problem.

I don't need more answers. I need fewer things asking me for one.

I've been getting only a few hours of sleep most nights lately, and this week has been especially heavy. Somewhere between the responsibilities, the decisions, and yet another notification promising to transform my life, something hit me, and it was almost embarrassing how simple it was. Anyone who's been feeling overwhelmed for a while will probably get this.

I need less on my plate. That's it.

Feeling Overwhelmed Doesn't Always Mean You Need a Better System

I'm not against programs or products. I'm not against doctors, coaches, or asking for help, either. Three programs I use right now have changed my life, and I believe in them so much I'd probably sell their products myself.

What sets them apart is that they never made me feel hunted.

They told me what the problem might be, walked me through how they could help, and then trusted me to decide. There was no made-up emergency and no emotional chase scene.

Compare that to the steady drip of emails and texts. Just following up. Did you see this? Are you still struggling? Is it getting worse?

Yes, Brenda. It is. My phone won't stop dinging.

When I'm rested, I can spot a sales pitch and keep walking. When I'm running on empty, every ping feels a little more urgent and every promise sounds a little more possible. Maybe they're right. Maybe this is the piece I've been missing. Maybe I really do need one more program, protocol, appointment, login, or person to keep track of.

Some days I'd love to throw my phone into the ocean. Unfortunately, there's no ocean nearby. There are woods, though, and streams, and quite possibly an alligator who'd be happy to help me get rid of the phone.

Sometimes Help Is One More Thing to Manage

I have help in my business, and I'm grateful for every bit of it.

I also know that saying so might make some people think I have no business feeling buried. But gratitude and overwhelm can live in the same body. Having support doesn't take away the weight of being the one who still has to decide, explain, approve, remember, double-check, and live with whatever happens next.

There are business decisions and household decisions. There are property decisions, appointments, and health worries: my own health, my daughter's, my husband's and more. And there are the people I love who call me when something goes wrong. If you're the one everyone calls, you probably know this feeling.

Some days I don't want more people to manage. I want someone capable to look at the whole overflowing plate and say, "I've got this. You don't have to decide a thing."

I want the groceries handled and our particular diets remembered without my having to explain them again. I want dinner made, the supplements sorted, and my daughter happy and playing. I want the business humming along and someone other than me keeping an eye on the team.

Not forever. A week would be lovely. At this point, I'd settle for a day.

Just long enough to remember what it feels like to be taken care of, instead of being the one who arranges care for everyone else.

When Rest Finally Comes and You Can't Relax

I still remember the day my daughter, who has never been much of a napper, took the nap of her life.

You'd think I plowed through my to-do list. Or slept. Or finally had one of those peaceful afternoons mothers daydream about while hiding in the bathroom.

I did almost nothing.

One of my closest friends called, and before I could get a word out, she said, "You just sat there, didn't you? You didn't know what to do." She was right.

I kept waiting for my daughter to wake up. The quiet stretched on, and my body stayed on high alert anyway, bracing for it to end. I couldn't nap because I didn't trust that I had enough time. I couldn't start anything because I was sure I'd be interrupted halfway through. So I sat.

The funny part is, I teach nervous system healing. I know that when we finally stop, our bodies sometimes catch up to how long they've been running in overdrive. We might cry. We might lie down to sleep and find we can't. We might sit there, stunned, because our bodies don't know what to do with a moment that asks nothing of us.

If you finally get an hour to yourself and spend it staring at the wall, you didn't waste it.

You needed that hour to do nothing. The fact that you couldn't do anything else might be the clearest sign of how badly you needed it.

How I'm Choosing Less When I'm Feeling Overwhelmed

So I've started choosing less.

I'm unsubscribing from emails. I'm leaving text lists and muting group chats full of noise I don't want in my life anymore. I'm saying no to offers that don't feel right for me, and I'm learning that's okay. Not every program, product, or solution is meant for every person.

I understand that as a customer, and I understand it as the founder of Karma Penguin. If something we create feels right and truly supports you, I'd love to welcome you in. If it doesn't, I understand that, too. A good offer tells you the truth and then lets you make your own call.

This week I also had a hard conversation. I told someone, "I'm sorry, but I can't help you with this anymore."

I had warned them not to put me in that position. They made their choice anyway, and I couldn't keep carrying the consequences for them.

As a friend of mine likes to say, not my pony, not my show.

As an animal lover, I remain a little concerned about what this hypothetical show is doing with the pony. But the boundary stands.

The conversation was uncomfortable, and there may be more bumps ahead as I keep holding that line.

But afterward, I felt lighter, relieved, even a little free. Underneath all the mess, I knew I had finally done right by myself.

Choosing less probably won't start with a perfectly organized life. It might start with one muted group chat. One offer you turn down. One problem handed back to the person it belongs to. One quiet hour where you don't "should" all over yourself for not being productive.

Rest isn't a prize you earn once everyone else is okay and your list is finally empty. If that were the rule, some of us would never rest again.

You don't have to prove your worth by how much you can carry.

And if no one has told you lately, let me be the one: you deserve care, too.

You're allowed to put something down.

About the Author

I'm a soul-led coach, entrepreneur, mother, and recovering perfectionist, currently navigating healing, uncertainty, temporary chapters, motherhood, work, big transitions, grief, nervous system healing, overstimulation, emotional growth, and the ongoing lesson that life works a whole lot better when we stop trying to carry everything alone.

Today that lesson looked like muting the noise, turning down what wasn't right for me, holding a hard boundary, and realizing I don't need another life-changing solution. I need less to carry.

Day 259 of 365. Still building. Still learning to put things down. Still choosing peace. 🐧