Why does everything feel like another thing I have to do?

Sometimes it isn’t one big thing that makes you feel overwhelmed.

It’s the fact that absolutely everything seems to require something from you.

The email that needs a reply. The prescription that needs ordering. The birthday you need to remember. The form that needs filling in. The person you need to call back. The appointment you need to rearrange. The washing that has somehow reproduced overnight.

None of these things is particularly dramatic. If somebody asked what was wrong, you might struggle to point to anything and say, “That. That’s the problem.”

But by 6pm, someone asking what you’d like for dinner can feel like a question of quite unreasonable complexity.

I don’t know. Food. Something nobody needs me to make a decision about.

And if you’ve ever found yourself disproportionately irritated by a perfectly innocent question, it doesn’t necessarily mean the question was the problem.

Sometimes it was simply one decision too many.

It isn’t only being busy that wears us out

We tend to think of overwhelm in terms of how much we physically have to do. A packed diary. Long hours. Children who need ferrying around. Work deadlines. Caring responsibilities. A house that stubbornly refuses to maintain itself.

But there’s another layer to it: the amount of thinking, remembering, deciding and anticipating happening in the background.

You’re not simply going to the supermarket. You’re remembering what everybody needs, what you’ve already got, what somebody suddenly refuses to eat, whether there’s enough for tomorrow and the thing you absolutely must not forget because you forgot it last time.

You’re not simply taking a child somewhere. You’re working backwards from what time you need to leave, whether they’ve got what they need, what happens with dinner, whether somebody else needs collecting and what on earth you’re going to do about the other thing happening at exactly the same time.

Then there are all the things that haven’t happened yet but have already taken up residence in your head. Thursday’s appointment. Next month’s birthday. The conversation you need to have. The thing at work you’re slightly worried about. The message you need to reply to.

Your body might be sitting on the sofa.

Your attention is absolutely not.

This is part of what people mean when they talk about mental load. It isn’t only completing tasks; it’s carrying the responsibility for noticing, remembering, planning and making sure they happen.

And when you’ve been doing that for long enough, you may barely notice how much thinking you’re doing.

You just know you’re tired.

Your brain has limits, even when your list doesn’t

We sometimes talk to ourselves as though our mental capacity should be endless.

It’s only a quick email.

It’ll only take five minutes.

I just need to decide.

Individually, perhaps that’s true. But our brains are continually processing information, shifting attention, making decisions and keeping track of what matters. That takes mental effort.

And the small things count.

This can help explain why you might handle something genuinely difficult at work with impressive competence, then arrive home and feel completely defeated because someone asks whether you want pasta or potatoes.

It’s probably not a previously undiscovered intolerance to carbohydrates.

You may simply have made a lot of decisions already.

When our mental resources are stretched, ordinary things can start feeling harder. Concentrating can become more difficult. Decisions that would normally be straightforward can feel strangely complicated. We can become more irritable, forgetful or indecisive, or find ourselves avoiding something simply because we cannot face working out one more thing.

Then, rather unhelpfully, we judge ourselves for that too.

Why am I making such a big deal out of this?

Why can’t I just get on with it?

What’s wrong with me today?

Perhaps nothing particularly mysterious.

Maybe your head is simply full.

Being capable can hide how much you’re carrying

This is one of the reasons overwhelm can be easy to miss, particularly if you’re someone other people consider capable.

You probably can do the things.

You can remember the appointment, solve the problem, rearrange the diary, make the decision and find the missing PE kit five minutes before everybody needs to leave the house.

And because you can, you keep doing it.

The trouble with being the person who usually manages is that other people can become very accustomed to you managing. Sometimes you can too.

Gradually, “I can do this” becomes “I should be able to do all of this.”

Those are not the same thing.

Being capable of carrying something doesn’t automatically mean it needs to be yours. And being good at managing a lot doesn’t mean managing a lot has no effect on you.

I think that distinction matters because so many women I speak to don’t necessarily describe themselves as overwhelmed at first. They’ll say they’re tired. Snappy. Distracted. They can’t switch off. They’ve stopped looking forward to things. They feel as though they’re always rushing but never quite finished.

Sometimes they say something much simpler:

“I just feel like everyone wants a piece of me.”

That tells us quite a lot.

Why rest doesn’t always feel like rest

This can also explain something that frustrates a lot of people.

You technically had an evening off.

So why don’t you feel rested?

Because sitting down and mentally stopping are not necessarily the same thing.

You can be watching television while thinking about tomorrow. You can be having a bath while remembering something you need to order. You can go for a walk while rehearsing a conversation. You can spend an hour scrolling because you’re too tired to do anything else, then put your phone down and realise you don’t actually feel any better.

Physical inactivity isn't automatically restorative if your mind is still on duty.

And sometimes even rest itself becomes another job.

I really need to relax.

I should get an early night.

I need to start taking better care of myself.

Excellent. Another three things for the list.

This is where a lot of wellbeing advice can miss the point. Telling someone who already feels responsible for everything that they now need to become extremely good at self-care can simply give them another area in which to feel they’re failing.

A morning routine, gratitude journal and beautifully prepared green smoothie may be lovely if you enjoy them.

But they’re not a moral requirement.

Before you ask how to cope with more, look at what you’re carrying

When life feels overwhelming, the automatic question is often: How can I get better at managing all of this?

Sometimes that is the right question. There are busy periods in life that simply have to be navigated.

But I think there’s another question worth asking before we immediately try to become more efficient:

Does all of this actually need to be mine?

Not just the physical jobs. The remembering. The checking. The anticipating. The responsibility for everybody being okay. The things you automatically say yes to. The things you sort because it feels easier than asking somebody else. The problems you continue thinking about long after you’ve done everything you reasonably can.

You don’t have to immediately change any of it.

Just notice.

Because there’s an important difference between “I need to cope better with everything” and “perhaps I’ve become used to carrying more than I realised.”

One puts the entire problem back onto you.

The other gives you something more useful to explore.

If everything feels like one thing too many

You don’t have to be unable to function before overwhelm is worth paying attention to. Sometimes it looks exactly like functioning: getting everything done while quietly wondering why you feel so exhausted, disconnected or unlike yourself.

And if you’ve been telling yourself you simply need to become more organised, more disciplined or better at coping, perhaps pause before adding another improvement project to your list.

Ask yourself instead:

What am I carrying at the moment that nobody else can see?

You may know the answer immediately. You may realise there’s considerably more there than you thought. Or you may find it surprisingly difficult to answer because carrying it has become so normal that you no longer notice it.

If this has made you recognise that you’ve been managing a lot for a long time and you’d like some support looking at what’s happening for you, get in touch and we can arrange a conversation. You don’t need to wait until everything becomes unmanageable, and you don’t need to arrive knowing exactly what needs to change.

Sometimes the first useful thing is having somewhere to put it all down and look at it properly.

Jx