Tired All the Time? It Might Be the Invisible Mental Load (Even If You Love Your Life)

My Apple Watch informed me this morning (a little smugly, if I'm being honest) that I achieved 5 hours and 41 minutes of sleep last night. Again.

And yet? I feel… good. I'm up. I'm moving. I'm energized. I love what I do. And I’ve got deadlines, man! Ready? Let’s do this.

But also—alongside those deadlines? I have 48 tabs open (literally and mentally) covering all the other things I have to do… and not forget to do. Three separate to-do lists have already crossed my brain before 9am. I'm mentally managing the week ahead, checking in on people I care about, wondering how many tasks I can stack to maximize productivity, and probably anticipating at least one potential crisis that hasn't even happened yet.

Sound familiar?

This is the kind of tired that doesn't come from hating your life. It comes from loving a very full one.

What Is the Invisible Load?

It's the stuff no one sees you doing—but you feel it. It's the mental background noise of being the organizer, the rememberer, the emotional anchor, the logistics lead, and the cheerleader—often all before breakfast.

It's not a meltdown. It's not even "burnout." It's just… always running. Always thinking. Always holding space.

And yep, I've wondered if it was ADHD. (It’s not) For some people, it absolutely is. But this invisible mental load? This is the quiet overfunctioning that's been praised your whole life—until you realize you've been running on high gear for so long, you don't remember what second gear feels like.

I wrote more about that in Beyond the Band-Aid if you’re starting to notice the connection between your stress and your symptoms.

You're Not Falling Apart. But You're Also Not Breathing Deeply.

This post isn't about burnout in the dramatic sense. It's about the low-level hum of "always on."

Because when you care deeply about your work, your people, your growth—when you actually enjoy your life—it can be easy to dismiss the fact that your nervous system never fully powers down. I talk more about how to create breathing room in Skipped Meditation Again? Me too. (Here’s to the Ridiculous Things I Googled Instead)

You don't need a crisis to justify feeling tired. You don't need a disaster to deserve breathing room.

What This Looks Like in Real Life

You genuinely love your work, your people, your commitments—and still feel like there's never enough time. You're often the go-to person, the strong one, the emotionally available one, and you don't actually mind it… until you kind of do.

Your brain is constantly scanning ahead, prepping, fixing, organizing, even when you're trying to be present. You're highly functional and also highly stretched. You're self-aware, but self-compassion doesn't always get to the front of the line.

This isn't about dramatizing your life. It's about recognizing that just because you can hold a lot doesn't mean you always should.

A 3-Minute Reset (For People Who Don't Want to Drop Everything)

If you're recognizing yourself in this—loving your life but feeling quietly over capacity—here's a gentle way to start creating some space:

1. What's one thing I'm doing that no one sees or acknowledges? Not to resent it—just to name it. Maybe it's being the family's emotional thermostat, or mentally tracking everyone's schedules, or carrying the worry about things that might go wrong.

2. What's one thing I can mentally set down today? Even just for now. You can pick it back up later if needed. Maybe it's the planning for next month's event, or the mental reminder about your friend's situation, or the responsibility for how someone else feels about your decision.

3. What's one thing I need—but haven't said out loud? Space? Quiet? Help? A little less responsibility for everyone else's emotions? Permission to move at human speed instead of superhuman speed?

This isn't about pausing your life. It's about softening how you move through it.

You Deserve Space—Even Inside a Life You Love

This is the part no one talks about: You can be thriving and overloaded. You can love your life and feel overstimulated. You can be grateful and still crave more margin.

You don't need to blow up your life to get relief. You just need to start noticing what's weighing you down—even when it's invisible.

I help women find clarity in the chaos. Not because they're falling apart—but because they're tired of holding it all together so well they've forgotten how to put it down.

You're not broken. You're not asking for too much. You're just human—with a very full heart, a very full mind, and a life that could use a little more space to breathe.