My kids and husband just got home from a super fun vacation to visit their grandparents in Vermont. The trip back involved about 19 hours in a truck. Nineteen hours in a truck with three kids, one adult, and a dog. They busted out of the truck like their lives depended on it, stir crazy from the car, happy to be home, tired from vacation, sad to have left family they love.
One of my daughters was struggling the next morning, and I casually mentioned that she was probably overtired from her trip and all the traveling. That was the wrong thing to say. She melted down, and spent about an hour crying and yelling, outraged that I could’ve suggested such a thing.
She wasn’t tired, she has FEELINGS. Wasn’t I a therapist who should understand such matters?
Yes, yes I am. I’m a therapist, and I know that her feelings, wherever they are coming from, are valid and important.
I’m also a mother, and an adult human, and I’ve learned that fatigue intensifies our emotions. It doesn’t necessarily create emotion where none previously existed, but it turns the volume up on whatever it is we are feeling. It can take our emotions from a 2 to a 10, in 3 seconds flat.
I’m wondering if, at a societal level, we are living in an ongoing state of fatigue. We’ve walked through an incredibly challenging and dramatic season, one that was filled with uncertainty, conflict, and loss. Most of us experienced some level of change in every sphere of our life, from work to church communities to parenting. Many experienced significant loss. Everything was turned upside down and we never knew what direction things would flip next.
And now, for most of us, things are leveling out. Life feels more solid and more predictable, and many of our former structures are returned to us. Many of us are expecting ourselves and each other to be back to normal, back to our 2019 selves.
But it’s not really working out like that.
During the height of the pandemic, I saw so many people struggling with intense depression and anxiety. So many relationships were in active turmoil. People were actively grieving losses, including job loss and loss of community. It was intense.
I’m not seeing that level of crisis across the board anymore. But what I am seeing is a heightened emotionality. Our expectations are higher, and our fuses are shorter. We still don’t feel quite like ourselves, and it’s frustrating and a little scary. We thought we would bounce back, and instead we are kind of inching back.
This shouldn’t be a shock, but it has been. At least, it has been for me. I was so thrilled to be back at work, back with friends, back in the communities and routines I love and value. And I do feel so, so much better. But I also feel more tired, more emotional, and more depleted than usual. My emotional resources still feel limited, and I know I am not alone.
We are tired, and it is going to take us time to recover. Our emotions might feel different than they used to, and we still may not feel like ourselves. And that’s ok. It’s normal and healthy and necessary. We need to give ourselves grace and time and space. We need to take more time off work. More long weekends, more weeks off, more time away. We need to let ourselves sleep more, and maybe even nap occasionally. We need to nurture ourselves gently with good food, time outdoors, and movement. We need to say no to things we don’t have the capacity for, even things we really really want to do.
This requires a tremendous amount of grace and kindness, for ourselves and for each other. When you see someone behaving badly or struggling with emotions, try to remember that we don’t know the full story of the burdens they have been carrying. We don’t know what has worn them out and what is intensifying their emotions.
I can clearly remember telling someone that my newborn had just slept six hours in a row for the first time. She responded, “That is amazing! Don’t you just feel like a new woman?” I laughed and said I sure did, but inside I wanted to kick her in the shins. I did not feel like a new woman. I felt like an exhausted, weary, hormonal, and blearily happy woman who hadn’t slept through the night in what felt like forever.
We don’t recover overnight, not physically or emotionally.
Recovery takes time and rest and grace. Let’s be generous with all three.