What Is Soul Fatigue?

Soul fatigue is the tired that sleep doesn’t touch.

You can knock out for ten hours and still drag yourself up feeling heavy, like something sat on your chest all night.
It’s not the normal kind: sore calves from walking too much, or stiff shoulders from leaning over a desk.

It’s stranger than that.
Harder to point at, and it sits somewhere you can’t stretch out or massage away.

I’m no stranger to this awful tiredness, and if you found your way here you might not be either.

Soul fatigue is when the middle of you starts to go dim.
The part that used to reach, hope, trust, or whatever you want to call it, it just flickers like a bad bulb.

It’s not the kind of tired where you think, I just need a weekend off. It’s the kind where you start wondering, what if I never feel like myself again? It’s what happens when you’ve carried more pain than care at the same time of giving more than anyone gave back.

It doesn’t come from one big thing, either. It’s the pile-ups:

Trauma that won’t quit (this is my sad entry to soul fatigue)
Grief that hangs around too long
Holding everything together until your own knees give out
Surviving so long you forget how to live
Loving hard, and not being met anywhere close

Soul fatigue doesn’t explode into your life, it’s a slow seeping like that loose leaf tea that takes twice as long as the regular teabags I have.

It chips away at joy until you can barely remember the flavor of it.

Signs of Soul Fatigue

It hides…but not perfectly.

It can feel like being cut off from everything, even the things that used to matter most to you.
Like you’re flat inside, numb in a way no amount of sleep can ever really touch.
Like your body’s heavier than it should be…legs dragging pathetically, arms weighted down for no reason.
Sometimes crying won’t come when you need it to, or it just comes bursting out of you when you’re trying to work on your inventory lists at work.

Small, stupid tasks suddenly feel impossible.
Even the good stuff (birthdays, wins, compliments) somehow manage to land wrong.

Soul fatigue doesn’t smash in like that Kool-Aid man through the walls.
It sneaks in too quietly.
It feels more like turning dimmer switches one notch at a time.
It can look like smiling at achievements and feeling nothing.
Or living in a house you once loved but haven’t bothered to care for with the garden overgrown and the tomatoes you grew rotting on the vines.

And sometimes?
It just looks like you in the mirror, not recognizing yourself.

Why Rest Doesn’t Work Anymore

Rest doesn’t touch this kind of tired.
Not naps, not weekends, not even disappearing for a while (or moving to a new city to start over again, trust me, I’ve tried!).

This isn’t muscle ache or work stress.
It’s something buried waaay down, in the nerves, in the places that have been shouting for too long and never got an answer back.

I’ve slept twelve hours and still woke up carrying bricks on my back, an elephant on my chest, and chains around my ankles.
I’ve gone on vacations and come home just as hollow.

Because this tired isn’t really about sleep.
It’s about feeling safe, it’s about meaning. It’s about having somewhere (or someone) to finally set your heart down without it being dropped.

The Weight of Repeated Impact

The thing about soul fatigue is it usually doesn’t come from one big hit.
(Unless it’s something huge, like mine. Unfortunately.)

It’s more from the little things stacked up.
Those stupid paper cuts you stop counting.

Every betrayal you swallowed, all those spirals that left you gasping for air, even the cries that went unanswered.
Every smile you forced until your jaw ached and your stomach churned.

You just kept taking it.

And then one day your soul just absolutely screams: enough.

It doesn’t mean you’re broken, and it doesn’t mean you’re weak.
It just means you’re bruised all the way through.

Soul Fatigue vs Burnout

People like to mash burnout and soul fatigue together like potatoes and butter, but they’re not the same thing.

Burnout is the kind of tired tied to work, to deadlines, to the to do list you can’t climb out from under because it’s seven miles long.
And if you step back, if you actually allow yourself to rest, if you set some boundaries, sometimes it might actually let go.

Soul fatigue comes from being too much for too long. Holding it all, giving it all, until you’re scraped raw like wasabi on one of those boards.
That kind of ache doesn’t ease with a weekend off. It needs a depth of healing, not solely distance.

Burnout is: I can’t keep up.
Soul fatigue is: I don’t even remember why I’m running.

Take my experience: burnout hit me during a crazy work sprint (working 4 jobs at once), but soul fatigue crept in after literal years of ignoring trauma and “pushing through.”

The Culture That Praises Collapse

The world claps for your collapse.
You drag yourself to work sick, they call you dedicated. You smile through tears, they call you strong. You bleed quietly and they hand you a medal for it (or a pizza party).

We learn early: softness is weakness. Keep quiet, hold it together, and don’t make a scene.
Especially not in public.

But silence rots if you sit in it too long. It doesn’t make you noble, it makes you sick.
(That’s a botrytis pun for my wine nerds out there).

Soul fatigue doesn’t come with those flashy lights and sirens.
It’s the body’s way of begging, enough.

Huggaroo Weighted Neck Wrap (Lavender)

Huggaroo Weighted Neck Wrap (Lavender Scent)
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How to Begin Healing Soul Fatigue

I’m sorry to be the one to tell you that there’s no magic cure for this.
There’s no button you push and suddenly the weight lifts off your soul.
Healing soul fatigue is slower, like finding cracks in a wall and prying them open just enough to let a little light through.
One of my doctors once said: we aren’t looking for the light at the end of the tunnel here, just the shape of it so you know how to not smack your face into the wall.

Call it what it is.“I’m soul tired.” It’s not weakness, it’s naming the beast so it doesn’t keep hiding in the dark.

Time to drop the act you’ve learned to perfect. Let yourself be messy, unmotivated, pissed off, tearful, flat.
You don’t have to keep putting on a show for the world while you bleed behind the curtain. It’s really unnecessary.

Let the feelings out. The ones you stuffed down just to keep moving, news flash: they didn’t vanish. Put on the song Let it Go and cry with Elsa.

Hunt for tiny sparks that stirs something. A smell that makes you feel safe (lavender is mine). You don’t need a brand-new life, you just need one reminder that you’re still alive.

Soften the world and turn the volume down. Dim the lights and for the love of god, get off of social media!
Wrap yourself in comfort, even if it’s small.

Talk to someone who sees you. Not your achievements, not your mask.
You…the person underneath all the smiles and awards.
The one asking for help.

You Are Still In There

Even on the days when you swear you’ve disappeared and when the dark feels like wet cement, pulling you under.

You’re not gone, you just got buried under everything you were forced to hold.
The grief, the grind, all the pretending.
It adds up until you can’t even see yourself.
If you’ve ever stacked 5lbs on the bars at the gym over and over again you realize how fast it can add up.

Your light didn’t die. It’s just smothered, like those bits of charcoal when a firepit is dying. All you really need is another log or some crumpled newspaper.

You don’t have to blaze bright again, not yet.
You don’t need to save the world or shine for anyone.

Sources:

Figley, Charles R. Compassion Fatigue: Coping with Secondary Traumatic Stress Disorder in Those Who Treat the Traumatized. Brunner/Mazel, 1995.

Maslach, Christina, and Michael P. Leiter. The Truth About Burnout: How Organizations Cause Personal Stress and What to Do About It. Jossey-Bass, 1997.

Neff, Kristin. Self-Compassion: The Proven Power of Being Kind to Yourself. William Morrow, 2011.

Porges, Stephen W. The Pocket Guide to the Polyvagal Theory: The Transformative Power of Feeling Safe. W. W. Norton & Company, 2017.

Van der Kolk, Bessel. The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma. Viking, 2014.

What Is Soul Fatigue?