Do you ever feel like you are barely keeping your head above water? Like you’re treading just hard enough to keep your nose above the surface so you can take small, shallow breaths? You aren’t alone. I’ve been there more times than I can count and not just the “busy mom” kind of overwhelmed. I mean the kind that settles deep in your chest and makes you wonder if you’ll ever feel on top of things again.
When I first wrote this post back in 2018, I was drowning in homework, sick kids, laundry that had taken on a life of its own, and the looming shadow of an upcoming PCS. I had gone back to college to finish my business degree while taking care of the house, the kids, and trying to show up as a good wife. Four online classes. Zero margin. And absolutely no grace for myself.
Looking back now, I see so much more in that season than I did at the time. Back then I thought being overwhelmed was a time management problem. Now I know it was also a nervous system problem. Something I understand a lot better after years of healing from combat trauma, toxic family dynamics, and chronic illness. But we’ll get to that.
The Season That Broke Me Open
Those first few weeks of trying to juggle school and life were genuinely the most trying I’d had in a long time. It started with me getting sick the first week. Then my kids got sick, which meant a week home from school. That meant I was trying to catch up on classes while taking care of two miserable little humans. My classes had a heavy workload on their own; doing them alongside sick kids was beyond draining. Then came winter break. Another week of everyone home, everything piling up, and me running on fumes.
Honestly? I failed. Dinners didn’t get made, laundry piled up, and the floors … I don’t even want to think about how long it had been. By 7 pm most nights I was passed out on the couch from sheer exhaustion. My husband stepped in when he could, but he was tired too, and so much still went undone.
And here’s the thing about being that overwhelmed when you also carry anxiety. It doesn’t just feel like a lot on your plate. It feels like evidence. Evidence that you’re failing. That you’re not enough. That everyone would be better off if you just had it more together.
That voice is a liar. But when you’re running on empty, it’s the loudest thing in the room.
What I Had to Learn (and Keep Learning)
Eventually I sat down and had a very honest conversation with myself. I am one person. I cannot do everything. And more importantly … doing everything was never the measure of being a good mom or wife.
I had to ask myself a different set of questions. Not “did I get it all done?” but:
Did my kids get some time with me today?
Have I spent time with my husband?
Are we all fed and bathed?
Does everyone have clean clothes for tomorrow?
Did I get to put my kids to bed and say prayers with them?
Is everyone happy, healthy, and safe?
If I could answer yes to those questions, I was doing a darn good job even if the floors were dirty and the laundry was still in a pile on the couch.
That reframe saved me. It didn’t fix everything, but it gave me permission to be human.
What I Know Now That I Didn’t Then
Here’s what I’ve learned in the years since: when you’ve lived through trauma — military service, combat, toxic relationships, chronic illness, or all of the above — your baseline stress level is already elevated. Your nervous system has been in high gear for so long that even normal amounts of busyness can tip you into overwhelm faster than it might tip someone else.
That’s not weakness. That’s biology.
So when I hit that wall now, I try to meet myself with a little more compassion than I used to. I ask myself: Is my nervous system dysregulated right now, or am I actually behind? Sometimes the answer is both. But naming it matters.
A few things that have genuinely helped me manage overwhelm beyond the checklist above:
1. The “three things” rule. On days when the to-do list feels impossible, I pick three things that actually matter and let the rest go. Not forever, just for today. Momentum beats perfection every time.
2. Movement, even when I don’t want to. I’m not talking about a full gym session. Even ten minutes of walking outside can shift my nervous system out of freeze mode. When I’m overwhelmed, my body needs to move more than my brain needs to plan.
3. Saying the quiet part out loud. Telling my husband “I’m at capacity” instead of silently white-knuckling through is still hard for me. But it’s one of the most important things I can do. He can’t support what he can’t see.
4. Protecting sleep like it’s a job. When I’m exhausted, everything feels harder, heavier, and more impossible than it actually is. Sleep doesn’t fix trauma or to-do lists, but it makes both more manageable.
5. Checking in with my body, not just my schedule. Am I actually hungry? Have I had water today? Have I sat outside for five minutes? These sound small. They aren’t.
You Are Not Failing
I still go back and read that old post sometimes … the one where I reminded myself that I wasn’t failing my family just because the house wasn’t perfect. Those words still ring true. Maybe even more so now.
If you’re in a season of overwhelm right now, I want you to hear this: you don’t have to earn rest. You don’t have to do it all to be worthy of showing up in your own life. The laundry can wait. The floors can wait. What your people need most is you — present, breathing, and as okay as you can be right now.
Can you answer yes to those questions above? If so, you are absolutely rocking it. Give yourself the grace you’d give anyone else you love.
You’ve got this even on the days it doesn’t feel like it.
NOTE: This post was originally published in February 2018. It was updated in June 2026 with expanded content.
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