The Exhaustion No One Can Fix
When rest doesn’t work because the problem isn’t physical
Perhaps you aren’t tired because you’re doing too much.
Perhaps you’re tired because you’ve been carrying someone you were never meant to carry.
I’ve been sleeping eight hours a night.
Taking my vitamins.
Eating more protein.
Moving my body.
And yet… I wake up exhausted.
Not sleepy.
Exhausted.
The kind of exhaustion a nap doesn’t touch.
For months, I blamed everything I could think of. Maybe I needed more protein. Maybe I was low on minerals. Maybe I wasn’t exercising enough. Maybe I was spending too much time on the couch.
But when I stepped back and looked at the bigger picture—at the life I had before the carpet was pulled out from underneath me—I realized none of those were the real culprit.
I went from being a wife to suddenly single at sixty-seven.
That shift in identity is what has been draining me.
It’s not physical fatigue.
It’s identity fatigue.
And that is a completely different kind of exhaustion.
Identity fatigue happens when you’ve spent years living inside a role that no longer fits. The good girl. The strong one. The responsible one. The peacemaker. The woman who holds everything together.
Those identities have job descriptions.
The Good Girl keeps everyone happy.
The Strong One never asks for help.
The Responsible One remembers everything.
The Peacemaker makes sure everyone else is okay.
Those jobs don’t end at five o’clock.
They follow you to bed.
Your body may be resting, but your identity is still on duty.
That’s why sleep doesn’t always help.
Here’s what identity fatigue feels like from the inside.
Your mind never truly shuts off.
Is anyone upset?
Did I offend someone?
What needs fixing?
Have I forgotten anything?
Does someone need me?
Even in sleep, some part of you remains on call.
Imagine carrying a forty-pound backpack everywhere you go.
At first, you’d notice it.
Eventually, you’d stop noticing the backpack.
You’d only notice that you were exhausted.
Invisible weight still weighs something.
For many women, that invisible weight is made up of everyone else’s expectations, emotions, comfort, disappointments, and opinions. We carry them so long they begin to feel like our own.
Then there’s another energy leak we rarely talk about.
Every unnecessary “yes” creates a future promise.
Every future promise occupies space in your nervous system.
Before you’ve even shown up for the dentist appointment, the committee meeting, the favor you agreed to out of guilt, or the dinner you didn’t really want to attend...
...your body is already carrying it.
No wonder you’re tired.
Then there are the truths we never allow ourselves to speak.
The no that became a yes.
The hurt we smiled through.
The disappointment we swallowed.
The longing we convinced ourselves didn’t matter.
Those moments don’t disappear.
They settle quietly beneath the surface.
Waiting.
The Dredge
At my grandfather’s funeral, I held it together for my mother.
She had enough to deal with, I told myself, without me falling apart too.
Besides, we weren’t an especially emotional family.
So I swallowed my grief.
Months later, I attended a friend’s grandfather’s funeral.
As the service began, I started crying.
And I couldn’t stop.
I was convulsive.
I liked her grandfather well enough, but my tears had very little to do with him.
They belonged to my grandfather.
The grief I had packed away months earlier had simply been waiting for a place to land.
In that moment, I realized something profound.
My body had remembered what my mind had tried to forget.
Living Two Lives
I wonder if another reason so many women are exhausted is because they’re living two different lives.
There’s the surface life.
The one where everything appears to be fine.
Where you smile.
Where you reassure everyone that you’re okay.
Where you keep performing the role you’ve always played.
Then there’s your real life.
The one filled with grief.
Questions.
Longing.
Fear.
Hope.
Trying to keep those two lives running at the same time requires enormous energy.
Authenticity, while often uncomfortable, is surprisingly efficient.
Performance is exhausting.
Burnout isn’t always the result of doing too much.
Sometimes it’s the result of pretending too much.
Pretending you’re okay.
Pretending you’re not hurt.
Pretending you don’t want more.
Pretending you don’t need help.
Masks are heavy.
And here’s what I think most of us misunderstand:
Rest and restoration are not the same thing.
Sleep gives your body a break.
Restoration gives your soul one.
Sometimes restoration looks like laughing until your stomach hurts.
Dancing in your kitchen.
Saying no without apologizing.
Feeling deeply understood.
Doing something simply because it delights you.
Your nervous system recognizes those moments differently than it recognizes another hour of sleep.
So let me ask you a few questions.
When was the last time you laughed until you cried?
When was the last time you disappointed someone without apologizing for it?
When was the last time you spent an afternoon exactly as you wanted?
When was the last time someone took care of you?
When was the last time you felt completely like yourself?
The version of you who believes she must earn love...
Fix everyone...
Hold everything together...
Never disappoint anyone...
She is exhausted.
Not because she’s weak.
Because she’s been carrying an impossible job description.
Maybe your exhaustion isn’t your enemy.
Maybe it’s the most honest messenger you’ve ever had.
Maybe it’s quietly whispering,
“I can’t keep carrying a life that no longer fits.”
So before you ask yourself whether you need another nap...
Ask yourself a different question.
What if my exhaustion isn’t asking for more rest?
What if it’s asking for a different way of living?
Self-abandonment isn’t something that happens in one transaction. It’s small little ways you give up yourself over time. To see where you are on the scale, check out the free assessment tool. Simply click the button to take it.
The Tarot Nook
Knight of Pentacles Reversed
When I turned over the Knight of Pentacles reversed, I expected it to be a card about work.
Instead, I think it’s a card about weight.
The Knight of Pentacles is known for his reliability. He keeps his promises. He does what’s expected. He carries the load, day after day, without complaint.
Those are beautiful qualities.
Until they become the reason you never stop carrying what no longer belongs to you.
As I reflected on this card alongside today’s blog, I realized something.
Maybe exhaustion isn’t coming from the weight itself.
Maybe it’s coming from carrying yesterday’s responsibilities into today’s life.
Sometimes we’re so committed to being dependable, responsible, and strong that we never stop to ask a simple question:
Is this still mine to carry?
The Knight of Pentacles reversed reminds me that there is wisdom in laying something down.
Not because I’ve failed.
But because I’ve changed.
Perhaps the most responsible thing we can do isn’t to carry more.
It’s to recognize when the journey has changed—and travel lighter.