top of page

When You Don’t Feel Like Doing Anything (And Everything Feels Like Too Much)

Updated: Jan 11

Exhausted parent sitting in a messy living room on a Tuesday afternoon, feeling overwhelmed and burnt out.


It’s Tuesday afternoon.

Not a “cute little reset” Tuesday. Not a productive one.


The kind of Tuesday where you swear you didn’t sleep at all — even though technically, you were in bed. Your kid wasn’t well. Nightmares. Tossing. Turning. That half-awake parenting state where you’re never fully asleep but never fully alert either.


You’ve had two cups of coffee.

They tasted magically delicious.

They did absolutely nothing.


Your to-do list is a mile long. Deadlines are blinking red. Your bank account is doing that quiet, anxiety-inducing thing where you don’t want to look too closely. You have a work trip in three days that you may need to cancel, reschedule, or postpone — and the cost of postponing feels astronomical. But also: your kid comes first. Always. Health comes first. Period.


You finally get your toddler down for a nap — after a blowout and a bath — and you stand there for a second like… Wait. It’s happening. Silence.


And then you look around.


The apartment is a bit of a mess.

Clean-up needed everywhere.

Laundry giving you side-eye.

Toys in places toys should never be.

That sticky spot on the floor you keep stepping on like the universe is punking you.


And your phone won’t stop.

Beeping. Buzzing. Lighting up.

Calls to return. Messages piling up. Emails marked “urgent.”

All asking for something you don’t feel like you have right now.


This is usually the part people judge themselves for.


When You Don’t Feel Like Doing Anything


And all you want to do is sit down.

On a Tuesday afternoon.

In the middle of the day.

With Gelato.

Maybe a movie. Maybe nothing.


Just… not the endless doing.


So you do.


And honestly? That part matters.



The Freeze Isn’t Laziness — It’s Overload


Here’s the thing no one says out loud enough:


When you don’t feel like doing anything, it’s rarely because you’re lazy or unmotivated. It’s because your nervous system is overwhelmed.


Your body isn’t asking for discipline.

It’s asking for safety.


Sometimes “freeze” looks like scrolling.

Sometimes it looks like staring into space.

Sometimes it looks like sitting on the couch with gelato, watching a movie you’ve already seen.


And sometimes it looks like… staring at your Christmas tree you still need to take down, with a weird ache in your chest because you don’t want the holidays to end.


Why can’t the holidays last?

Why can’t the cozy lights stay?

Why can’t there be one more week where the world expects less of you?


If that’s you: you’re not broken.


You’re tired. You’re stretched thin. You’re carrying too much.

And your system is trying to protect you.



The Shift Isn’t “Do Everything” — It’s “Do One Thing”


The way out of this moment isn’t forcing yourself to suddenly become a new person.


It’s not shaming yourself into action. It’s not telling yourself to “push through” until you collapse later.


The shift usually starts with one quiet sentence:


“Okay. This is what I’m going to do.”


Not everything.

Not the whole list.

Not your entire life.


Just one thing.



Pick the one thing that actually matters today (the one that boosts your life force)


Not the thing that feels loudest.

Not the thing that’s yelling for attention.


The thing that, when it’s done, gives you a tiny return of you.

The thing that boosts your energy instead of draining it.


And yes — sometimes that means not calling back the client who calls every single week with something “urgent”… that isn’t actually urgent. The kind of “urgent” that mysteriously becomes your emergency, your responsibility, your stress.


That’s not service.

That’s burnout in a trench coat.


So instead of answering the loudest thing, choose the truest thing:


  • The one task that makes tomorrow easier

  • The one step that protects your money, your time, or your peace

  • The one deliverable that stops the mental loop in your head


Then give it a container:


One hour. One sprint. That’s it.


Set a timer for 60 minutes.


Lower the bar.

Let it be messy.

Let it be “good enough.”


You are not committing to becoming a productivity machine.

You are borrowing yourself for one hour.



Make It Easier, Not Harder


If you have it in you, make the sprint kinder:


  • Put on one song that brings you back to life

  • Stand up between tasks like you’re rebooting your nervous system

  • Dance for 20 seconds like a feral little joy goblin

  • Tell yourself out loud: “Just this hour.”


Because momentum is a bonus — not a requirement.


When the hour ends, you get to decide:


  • Stop and rest (still counts)

  • Or do one more hour (also counts)


Either way, you moved.



This Isn’t About Winning the Day


This isn’t about being impressive.

It’s about being human and practical at the same time.


Some days, the bravest thing you do is:


  • Choose one thing

  • Do it imperfectly

  • And stop before you burn out further


If today looks like:


  • A movie on a Tuesday afternoon

  • Gelato

  • One focused hour

  • And letting the rest wait


That’s not failure.


That’s survival with grace.


And sometimes… that’s exactly enough.

Comments


bottom of page