You finally sit down. The work is done, the emails can wait until morning. If you have children, they are in bed. By any reasonable measure, this is the moment to rest. And yet. Your mind is already somewhere else. Running through tomorrow, replaying today, moving between tasks that aren't urgent and worries that may not even be real. The television is on but you are not watching it. Someone is talking to you and you are nodding, but only part of you is there. Nothing is wron

It doesn't always look like collapse. Emotional exhaustion rarely does. More often it looks like getting through the day: the meetings, the messages, being present for the people who need you, and then sitting down in the evening and feeling completely hollowed out. Not tired exactly, though you're that too. Something closer to empty. What makes it confusing is that nothing dramatic has happened. There is no single event to point to. Life is, by most measures, fine. Which ma

There is a particular kind of confusion that comes with getting what you wanted. Life changes can feel harder than we expected. You made the decision carefully. You thought it through, perhaps talked it over with people you trust, sat with it long enough to feel sure. Then you did it: left the job, moved to a new city, ended the relationship that wasn't working, had the baby, got married, finally retired. You chose this. Yet somewhere beneath the surface, something doesn't fe