The Tired-But-Still-Going Feeling: Why This Time of Year Hits So Hard
I realised it was officially “that time of year” when I found myself standing in the kitchen, staring into the fridge like it was going to give me life advice.
Not food.
Not inspiration.
Just… advice.
There I was, holding an open packet of cheese, thinking,
“Surely someone else can decide what’s for dinner. Anyone. The universe? The dog?”
Nothing traumatic had happened.
The day wasn’t even particularly hard.
But my brain had clearly clocked off for the year, packed its little bag, and wandered out the door whispering,
“Good luck, sweetheart — you’re on your own now.”
And that’s when I felt it: that familiar, slow, end-of-year tiredness — the kind that shows up in December like an uninvited guest and settles itself right behind your eyes.
If you’re here too…
If everything feels a tiny bit heavier, more emotional, or just too much — I want you to know this:
You’re not imagining it.
You’re not failing.
And you’re definitely not alone.
Why this time of year hits harder (and no, it’s not just you)
You’ve been carrying a lot.
Not just this week. Not just the past month.
A whole year’s worth of emotional pick-ups, drop-offs, organising, soothing, holding, remembering, juggling, supporting, and pushing through.
A year’s worth of:
“Don’t worry, I’ll sort it”
running on autopilot
emotional mind-reading
being the stable one
managing everyone’s mood
making decisions you never asked for
keeping life moving
And now, at the point where everyone else is saying “Just one more week!”, your body is quietly saying,
“Actually… no more weeks, thanks.”
This tiredness isn’t you “losing it.”
It’s you telling the truth.
“But I’ve been fine until now.”
Have you though?
Or have you just been functioning at expert level?
Women are world-class at functioning.
Even when they’re running on fumes.
You can hold a family, a household, a workplace, a friendship group, and three emotional climates together while still remembering the cat worming tablets.
But being able to function ≠ having capacity left.
Functioning is the surface.
Capacity is the soil.
And right now, your soil is pretty dry.
The science
There’s a reason your body feels like a phone on 3% battery:
It’s called allostatic load — the gradual build-up of stress, pressure, emotional responsibility, and low-grade tension over time.
You don’t notice it daily.
But your body records everything:
the arguments you cushioned
the expectations you met
the nights you didn’t sleep well
the seasons you pushed through
the emotional weight you absorbed
the moments you “held it together”
By December, even the calmest women start feeling frayed.
This isn’t weakness.
This is biology… with a sense of humour.
If you’re thinking, “I shouldn’t be this tired”…
Let me say this gently and also very directly:
You’re not tired because you didn’t try hard enough.
You’re tired because you did.
All year.
In ways no one will ever fully understand except you.
You tried to be:
steady
patient
organised
kind
useful
resilient
available
emotionally responsible
impossible-to-disappoint
No wonder your body is looking at December like,
“O.K. I’m done”
A simple, realistic starting point for this week
(No pressure, no journalling marathons, no complicated rituals.)
Take one tiny pause a day where you do absolutely nothing.
Not thinking.
Not planning.
Not scrolling.
Not solving.
Not helping.
Just… nothing.
This could look like:
sitting in the car for 30 seconds before you go inside
leaning against a kitchen bench and breathing
putting your phone down and staring out a window
closing your eyes in the shower for one slow exhale
standing barefoot on the grass pretending you’re grounding… because you actually are
Nothing profound.
Nothing productive.
Just presence.
Your body will understand the gesture.
It will say,
“Oh thank god, she’s finally stopped.”
A final note
If you feel tired, emotional, crispy around the edges, or one small inconvenience away from tears — you’re not fragile.
You’re full.
You’re done.
You’ve carried enough.
And your body is simply asking for what it hasn’t had in a long time:
a moment.
You’re not failing.
You’re feeling.
And that’s powerful.
Have a gentle week,
Kate 🪷