It’s no surprise that many of us face times when life feels overwhelming, whether in the moment or due to everything happening around us. Personally, feeling overwhelmed often makes me disconnect from myself and feel a loss of control over how things unfold. During these times, I might feel powerless or as if I’m sinking in a sea of stress. Sometimes, when I feel like this or feel lost, I notice myself also getting caught in a cycle of recurring challenges and endless obstacles.
Experiencing ‘overwhelm’ – feeling overpowered by a flood of emotions, thoughts or circumstances that exceed our capacity to cope comfortably – often manifests as a sense of being emotionally or mentally flooded. This makes it difficult to think clearly, make decisions, or focus. It can arise from a variety of sources, such as pressing responsibilities, unexpected challenges, intense emotions, or a combination of them all. And it can leave us feeling stressed, anxious or powerless. At its core, feeling overwhelmed reflects a moment when our usual sense of resilience is stretched beyond its limits, prompting us to need support, pause, or find ways to regain a sense of balance. In my own experience of overwhelm, I feel lost, ungrounded, and even while I may appear to others to be functioning well, I feel dissatisfied and untethered.
It is completely normal for people to feel overwhelmed occasionally. Life naturally presents us with challenging situations, unexpected changes, or busy periods that can temporarily stretch our emotional and mental resources. Experiencing these feelings from time to time is a common human response to stress or increased demands. It often serves as a signal that we may need to pause, reassess, or seek support. While occasionally feeling overburdened and isolated is normal, paying attention to how frequently it occurs and how it affects your wellbeing can help you determine if additional coping strategies or support might be beneficial.
Recurring or extended feelings of overwhelm can, however, have a profound impact on both our mental and physical wellbeing. Over time, these persistent sensations can lead to increased stress, anxiety and a sense of helplessness, making it harder to maintain focus or motivation. As the cycle continues, it can erode our confidence and self-esteem, causing us to doubt our ability to handle future challenges. A constant sense of being overwhelmed may also lead to burnout, where exhaustion, both emotional and physical, sets in, leaving us feeling drained and unable to engage fully in daily life.
In addition to its emotional toll, repeatedly experiencing feelings of being overwhelmed can affect our relationships and overall quality of life. It might lead to us becoming withdrawn or irritable, which can strain connections with loved ones, friends or colleagues. It can also create a feedback loop where stress and fatigue worsen, making each new challenge seem even more daunting. Over time, this ongoing cycle can diminish our resilience, making it harder to recover from setbacks and less likely to seek help or practice self-care, and ultimately compromising our ability to navigate life’s ups and downs effectively.
I find that when I ignore or overlook periods of recurring feelings of being overloaded and unable to cope, I start to experience lethargy, a sense of hopelessness and a lack of motivation. This makes it difficult to engage in everyday tasks, and even hampers my efforts to work toward long-term goals. I also realise that during these times, I tend to overlook my physical wellbeing and then deliberately avoid others because I feel ashamed. As a result, I tend to withdraw and hide from the world around me. This creates a negative cycle of self-criticism and judgment, which only deepens the inner disconnection I experience. As a result, I feel even more overwhelmed and detached from myself and my surroundings.
So, if we can’t always prevent moments of feeling overwhelmed, the important question becomes, How can we better understand these experiences and prepare ourselves to navigate them?
Understanding systemic stress and overwhelm
I believe no one is immune to stress. Although we all deal with stress differently, most of us experience moments when life leaves us feeling incredibly overwhelmed, and where our circumstances leave us emotionally, physically and psychologically drained.
Power dynamics, marginalisation, and feeling overwhelmed are deeply interconnected concepts that affect many of us. Power dynamics refer to how power is distributed and exercised in society, often creating imbalances where some groups hold more influence and control than others. Marginalisation happens when individuals or groups are pushed to the edges or excluded from mainstream society, frequently as a result of these power disparities. Overwhelm, the feeling of being unable to cope with life’s demands, is often a direct outcome of the stress and pressure rooted in marginalisation and uneven power relations.
In recent years, we have all faced prolonged exposure to stress, with some experiencing it more intensely due to factors such as identity, location or social class. This has left many people with varying degrees of psychological distress, including symptoms of depression, anxiety or post-traumatic stress. Despite these challenges, the necessity of continuing day-to-day caregiving, survival and our political activism has compelled many to develop coping strategies that allow us to remain functional, often at the expense of our mental wellbeing. As a result, symptoms of stress and being overburdened can go unnoticed or remain undiagnosed, even as they significantly impact our health and resilience.
It’s easy to look at others, our friends, family, colleagues, and assume they’re always calm and in control. People often comment on how well I handle stress, and while that’s the image I project, I know that maintaining it takes a heavy toll. As a high-functioning individual under pressure, holding it together consumes my inner resources and requires me to disconnect from my own experiences. When I fail to pause and check in with myself, my body and spirit eventually rebel, often signalling their distress through feeling overwhelmed. In reality, my nervous system is simply absorbing what I’m failing to consciously register.
Overwhelm is often a sign that we’re processing too much, too fast, for too long. When we forget to pause and connect, succumbing instead to the pressures of urgency and perfectionism rooted in white supremacy and capitalist values, we become so amped up that it feels like we’re about to explode. This happens because our nervous systems and emotions are struggling to keep pace, and have to amplify their signals to get our attention. Yet, even when we hear this signal, we often ignore it due to a grind culture that prioritises production and output above human value and wellbeing. We feel compelled to keep going, regardless of the cost. Many of us also carry the weight of half-finished emotional responses – traumatic moments from the past when these experiences forced us to shut down, disconnect or simply push through. These unprocessed feelings linger in our bodies, manifesting as tension, triggers, a state of chronic hypervigilance or even dissociation. For example, logically, I understand the need to set boundaries and prioritise self-care to sustain both my wellbeing and my ability to support others. However, these actions become incredibly difficult when faced with the overwhelming realities of a world in crisis. Engaging with a constant stream of violence and oppression triggers a whirlwind of internal debate, guilt and anxiety, leading me to question my own commitment and berate myself for being “stingy” with my care and energy. Consequently, it makes me feel powerless in situations where I actually have agency to make changes, or I may isolate myself from the very sources of support and healing I need.
Therefore, the way forward goes beyond self-soothing practices and self-care. Audre Lorde’s powerful assertion that self-care is an act of defiance against a society designed to exhaust us serves as a guiding light in these moments. It asks of us to build in mechanisms that allow us to notice what happens and work with compassion as we name, track and start to heal ourselves.. Thus, when our need for personal wellbeing clashes with our deeply held political values, it’s a vital signal to slow down. We must remember that burnout diminishes our capacity to create meaningful change and model a better path for those who come after us. Only by navigating this internal tension and prioritising our own care can we replenish our inner resources and prevent overwhelm from stealing our presence, both from ourselves and for the world around us.
Understanding our stress limits
The window of tolerance is a concept developed by Dr. Dan Siegel and refers to the optimal zone of arousal where each of us can effectively manage our emotions, think clearly, and respond to daily challenges. I prefer to call it the window of presence, as the word tolerance, to me, still speaks to a survival mindset. When we are within our window of presence, by contrast, we can handle stress and overwhelm, think strategically and stay connected to self and others. However, when we become overwhelmed, we may experience hyperarousal (anxiety, agitation, panic; racing thoughts; urgency; fight or flight) or hypo arousal (numbness, dissociation; fatigue or shutdown; foggy thinking; freeze or collapse), and rather than staying present, we get stuck in either hyper or hypo arousal.
Hyperarousal (too much energy) speaks to one way of responding to a distressing event, one where your body and mind go on alert. The body’s alert system causes your heart rate to speed up and your breathing to become faster and shallower. It also slows down your digestion. This amping up of your nervous system happens without thinking, and when you are in danger, it helps you to get away or fight. If the threat and danger last for too long, however, your body may stop returning to its window of presence and always run in hyperarousal. Hypoarousal (too little energy), on the other hand, often refers to states of freeze or dissociation, which is a survival strategy for the times when running away or fighting is not an option. As a result, the body shuts down in order to become less visible as well as to preserve energy. Similarly, if we are in states of hyperarousal for too long, when our bodies register that a threat is not going away, we can crash into hypoarousal, and we may feel numb, depressed and tired almost all the time (burnout). This numbing of your nervous system also happens without thinking.
Overwhelm is when we are pushed outside our window of presence (in either direction) and feel unable to easily return to a sense of safety and presence. When we are overwhelmed, we lose access to our sources (internal and external) of safety, choice and power. And then, when we try to connect to our emotions, communicate with others or act on our environments from a state of overwhelm, we not only become inefficient, we also run the risk of retraumatising ourselves and others.
Reframing strategies: It is okay to feel overwhelmed!
When we look closely at prevailing definitions of nervous system regulation, they often place a burden on individuals to not only endure unequal systemic conditions but to feel calm and “regulated” while doing so. Whether it be circumstances emanating from systems of oppression, injustice and often systemic violence, the spotlight often tends to be on how individuals can “keep calm and carry on” rather than on how these systems wear us down at individual or collective levels. The tendency to zoom in on individuals’ regulation strategies and capacities also often leaves us feeling ashamed of our inability to face life feeling calm and connected.
A healthy nervous system is not always calm. It is flexible and resilient.” Jessica Maguire
Sometimes, the world feels like it’s caving in on me, draining every ounce of positive energy from my being. I’ve learned that I cannot always control what happens or how my external environment influences me. What matters most is how I choose to respond. Therefore, I give myself permission to experience all kinds of emotions without judgment. I don’t pressure myself to have a ‘perfect’ reaction, nor do I allow others to define how I should feel or respond.
Moreover, we are all influenced by various internal and external factors that try to dictate how we handle different aspects of life, which, in itself, can be overwhelming. For instance, I often feel flooded with advice on how to avoid and manage stress. This sometimes leads me to criticise myself for not doing enough to prevent stress, overwhelm or burnout. Unfortunately, this cycle only adds to my stress rather than alleviating it. Over time, I’ve come to accept that stress is an unavoidable part of life. What I can do is develop healthier ways to manage it and learn from each experience, continuously growing and improving in the process.
This learning starts by recognising that the patterns, shapes and habits of survival that we have personally and collectively developed are wise, not pathological. For example, freezing, fawning, dissociating or shutting down are not bad or broken behaviours, but rather creative survival strategies. In other words, it is not about correcting my response, but rather to question what the effect of this response is in the now and the longer term. I have noticed that dissociating allows me to continue being functional in the moment and feeling comfortable, but once the moment has passed, it has a residual effect on my body, which is often uncomfortable. Similarly, collective strategies (like silence, mistrust, hypervigilance and perfectionism) often arise in response to systemic trauma.
Like us, our ancestors did what they needed to survive. Because many of our protective strategies are not only systemic but were handed down through generations of hardship, displacement or trauma, we need to have compassionate patience with survival strategies that no longer seem to work for us. Therefore, rather than interpreting and labelling our nervous system responses as good or bad, we can view them with compassionate curiosity, ask whether they are assisting us in our current wellbeing objectives, and find gentle ways to shift them if need be. This is the paradox of healing. We can honour our old strategies without needing to either hold on to them or eradicate them.
Finding your way back to the right path of your journey
That said, navigating feelings of being overwhelmed is a continuous and intentional journey. There is no final destination to reach. However, by sharing our experiences, we can learn and grow together. Each of us can choose the strategies that resonate best with us, understanding that what works for me may not necessarily work for you.
From my own experience, I have found that self-acceptance and compassion are key to moving through periods of overwhelm. Similarly, I have learnt to be gentle and curious and to use my experiences of overwhelm in my growth journey. These are some of my roadmaps:
#1: Practice compassion and patience.
I have learnt that instead of viewing feelings of being overwhelmed as the ‘detour’ and it being bad/shameful and wrong, there is value in stopping for a moment and engaging with what is happening. It starts with being present enough to admit that I may have lost my way a little, and using the moment to exercise kindness and compassion. For example, I start with letting go of the notion that I have to always be on track, and I allow myself to practice curiosity and patience so that I can just be with what is. Exercising patience and compassion means I have to connect with myself and accept myself and my experience completely.
#2 Accept myself and how I respond to stress triggers completely.
Sometimes, I may respond to stress and overwhelm by being a highly emotional being. Sometimes, I may use strategies to try and avoid what is happening. This could be burying myself in my work, in socialising or just some other form of escapism. Sometimes I might feel as though I take on the world’s problems and feel all of it, completely. I have come to appreciate all these parts of myself.
Accepting my response to stress and overwhelm means that I am the authority, rather than turning my authority over to everyone else, who might warn me against what I ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t be sensitive to. Thus, for me, the power lies in recognising that I am overwhelmed and being okay with it. This means accepting this part of myself and acknowledging that there is nothing wrong with me because everyone feels overwhelmed at some point.
#3: Ask: “What’s the gentlest thing I can do for myself right now?”.
Varia Erochina (https.www.bewith.org) asks the question, What’s the gentlest thing I can do for myself right now? in her course, How to feel. She also offers some gentle ways of working with overwhelm, reminding us to be gentle and intentional with our self-soothing and grounding techniques. This helps to remind us that we have a choice, that we are not in immediate danger and that it is thus safe enough to let go of urgency when we are in our safe places. When we are able to release the grip of urgency, it also becomes possible to offer ourselves small acts of care rather than criticism, and presence instead of pressure.
Over time, I have certainly learnt and been humbled by the reality that there will be moments where I will get lost or overwhelmed. I have learnt not to get caught up in the story of being lost, but to be gentle and tap into my power rather than a sense of powerlessness so that I can get back on track, even if the track has been somewhat modified.
#4: Step out of reality.
Stepping away from the things that overwhelm us isn’t avoidance. It’s an intentional redirection to give ourselves grace and space. Sometimes, hiding for a bit, putting your head down and zoning out of the world are the wisest options. For example, over time, I have learnt that it is okay to want to run away to my happy place, to sit in a corner with my journal, or to just listen to soothing music.
When we lose our way, we can be so overwhelmed and immersed in what stresses us that it may feel like it is the only truth at that moment. That’s when I find it is usually good to step outside of the reality that is causing my stress, and instead to step into another reality because distraction (moving your attention elsewhere) can be a great strategy to reduce intensity and reestablish connection to self. I often watch a movie or a series, cook a meal, go outside, and listen to something. In other words, I do something completely different from what I usually do. It allows me to let go of inner pressure or unrealistic expectations, interact with other realities, and it often sparks a new idea or thought that may be the evidence I need to get back to myself again. It also, once again, allows me to let go of urgency and to say, “I don’t have to fix this right now. I can just be.” If the urgency feels too overwhelming to step away, it is often a sign to return to Step #4 and first find the gentlest way to take care of ourselves in the moment.
It may take a few of those detours to be effective, but whether I return to myself through gentle actions of self-soothing or through stepping away for a bit, I will ultimately claim back some of my power to shift my reality.
#5: Losing your way has something to teach you.
I have also found that it can be helpful to have some mechanisms in place to bring myself back to reality once I feel more empowered to acknowledge my battle scars and wounds. Creating these mechanisms starts with doing the work to recover, and then reflecting on what triggered me by asking, “What did the moment have to teach me?” This type of inquiry is usually affirming and does allow for a pathway of finding your way back to yourself and what it is that you want in your life, over time. It also allows you to find the right time and mechanisms you need to step back into your everyday reality in order to slowly make the changes you need to address the relational and systemic factors causing your loss of self or overwhelm in the first place. Stepping out of our path for a moment to pause, to breathe, and to reflect ultimately allows an expanded view of our travels.
#6: Reach out and share the burden
Many of us, when we are overwhelmed or stressed, we sink deep into our fear of what will happen if others find out we are in over our heads. It took me a long time to accept that my fear of vulnerability was a major stumbling block to self-acceptance. The fear that people would see that I, too, have meltdowns or shutdowns often loomed larger than life, and in fact, what it did was to pull me deeper into powerlessness.
Sometimes being overwhelmed and losing your way can thus increase a sense of isolation and loneliness. Over time, I have learnt that when I recognise my sense of overwhelm, and the reality that I am unable to pull myself out of it, I need to ask for help, because it’s difficult to let go of the notion that I am less than, that there is something wrong with me, when I try to do so by myself. Therefore, once you feel a bit more settled, it is important to reach out to someone who is in your corner already and share with them what is happening with you. By sharing the burden, you are owning your reality, and you also do not allow shame to take over.
Asking for help could be from a friend, a family member, or even a professional. Recently, I saw a post on Facebook where a friend posted, “I have quietly been falling apart.” This opened up a flood of support for her, as well as giving her some freedom, because she was no longer controlled by the feeling that falling apart was an abject failure on her part.
