Tara Tomczyk 

So Tired, It Scares Me: What Do You Do When It All Feels Like Too Much?

February 27, 2026

I wasn’t going to write about this, at least not publicly, but I find that I keep writing about it privately—in my Morning Pages, in my journal, etc.—so maybe if it’s haunting me so much, it’ll strike a chord with someone else, and isn’t that the whole point of writing publicly?

Recently, I read a post on social media that talked about someone going to his psychiatrist and telling her that, although he didn’t feel depressed or suicidal in any way, what he did feel was “tired to an extent that scares me.”

Granted, the post was clearly AI-generated and intended as engagement bait, but even knowing that, I couldn’t help but admit that the concept hit home for me. Hard.

That kind of bone-tired, depression-like fatigue is a feeling I know all too well. And it’s not just over the past few months (which have been a struggle, both physically and emotionally) that I’ve felt this way. As soon as I read the post, I felt almost instantly transported back into the past. I could picture myself, at age 15 or 16, in a classroom in my high school, thinking to myself, “I can’t believe how tired I am. I feel like I’m 80 years old.”

Now, don’t get me wrong: It’s not like I’ve felt that kind of tired all day, every day, for the past 40-ish years. I do (mercifully) get short periods of time where I feel better, but the inevitable recurrence of that age-old exhaustion seems to be a constant in my life. 

I’m not sad or depressed, but I keep having the urge to burst into tears because my body and mind feel so overwhelmed. I have so much going on in my head that I have trouble keeping it all sorted (at least, I do outside of working hours, when I seem perfectly capable of pulling it all together, for some reason—most likely, my inherent workaholism!). 

Anyway, in the social media post, the fake psychiatrist tells the patient that this kind of fatigue—the kind you experience on a deep, soul level—is the result of living for too long without being able to ask for help. That, too, hits home for me. 

Although I know there are plenty of people who care about me and would certainly jump up to offer help if I asked for it, I often feel like there aren’t many (or any) people who really GET me. And there’s also a difference between people wanting to help and actually being ABLE to help. A BIG difference. In fact, I’ve often found that when I ask for (or, even more disturbing, hire) help, it ends up making even MORE work for me.

Case(s) in point: 

Take the accountant who’s doing my taxes and seems incapable of entering a single number on my return without asking me nineteen questions first (despite the fact that the same accounting firm has done my taxes for the past three years and could easily find most of the answers they need on LAST YEAR’s return). I mean, I am fully capable of filling in the forms myself. The reason I’m paying them  several hundred dollars is that I had hoped to give myself one small break, but instead of getting that break, I’m fielding constant texts and emails and phone calls. I could have finished it myself in one very unpleasant hour of staring at numbers and forms. Instead, I’m now experiencing multiple WEEKS of unpleasant days because these people are apparently incompetent.

Or take the doctor’s office with which I made an appointment for a checkup last week. It’s a medical practice that has been listed as my primary care physician since early 2021 (though I admit, I haven’t been there since my first visit—I’m not big on doctors, if I can avoid them!). I made my appointment through the practice’s online portal, where I explained that I was looking for a basic physical and that the doctor in question was, in fact, my PCP. Despite this, a receptionist called and left a voicemail demanding to know WHY I wanted the appointment and declaring that the doctor wasn’t taking “new patients.” So basically, after going through the work of finding the portal website (after 5 years of inactivity) and making the appointment I’ve been avoiding for months, I’m now being forced to do EXTRA work because the doctor’s records are sloppy. (Update: Before I even got a chance to call back and explain the situation, the same bitchy receptionist called and canceled my appointment, so now I need to find a new PCP entirely—no small task!)

These aren’t bizarre exceptions; they’re the norm when I attempt to “ask for help” as every personal development expert or book insists we should all do if we hope to avoid burnout. Even when I push past my discomfort and ask for help, I never seem to be able to release any of my burden. Somehow, by requesting help, I seem to pick up MORE burdens, more tasks that I need to complete. 

So what do you do when you’re so tired, it’s scary, but you know that if you ask for help, you’re going to end up doubling your already-oppressive list of chores to do? 

And no, that’s not a rhetorical question. I don’t have the answer. I’m honestly, in all openness and vulnerability, asking: What do you do to make things better? Because I really, really need to know. 

Consider this me, asking for help. 

Thanks in advance for all the good tips I’m hoping will flood in when you read this! 😀