Autumn always feels like nature’s gentle invitation to pause and reset. The leaves put on their fiery show, the air sharpens with crispness, and pumpkin spice somehow sneaks its way into everything. For me, fall has become more than a season of cozy sweaters and apple cider—it’s a season of reflection and recalibration.

Self-care has become the modern-day mantra. We’ve been sold the idea that candles, bubble baths, and yoga mats are the ultimate antidotes for stress. And while there’s nothing wrong with a luxurious soak or a gentle flow, here’s a question I’ve had to ask myself (sometimes painfully): is my self-care actually helping me, or is it a sophisticated form of avoidance?

Autumn has always carried a kind of quiet magic. The first chill in the air, the amber leaves swirling on sidewalks, the way pumpkin spice seems to sneak its way into every latte and candle. But here’s the flip side: the season also tends to arrive with a tidal wave of responsibilities. School ramps up, work deadlines stack, holiday planning looms—and suddenly, instead of soaking in the beauty, you’re running on autopilot.

It starts out like any ordinary afternoon. Your phone’s pinging, your inbox is overflowing, your smartwatch buzzes like it has an opinion—and suddenly, you’re stuck in a loop of half-finished tasks and brain fog. You’re not lazy, and you’re definitely not alone. You, my friend, are overstimulated.

Ever crawl into bed feeling like your batteries are completely drained, only for your brain to flip on the neon lights and start running a highlight reel of every deadline, mistake, or awkward conversation you’ve ever had? That mix of exhaustion and overdrive—tired but wired—is one of the most frustrating experiences. You want nothing more than deep rest, but your body feels like it’s preparing for battle.

Ever find yourself lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, and instead of feeling relaxed, you’re overcome with guilt? Like, “I should be doing laundry, catching up on work, texting people back…”—basically anything but resting? If that sounds familiar, you’re not broken. You’re human, caught in a culture that worships busyness and treats rest like a luxury instead of a necessity.

If you’ve ever sat staring at your to-do list, wondering how the list grew into a Hydra with heads sprouting faster than you can chop them off, you know the feeling of “too muchness.” Life piles on—emails, errands, deadlines, family needs, the constant buzzing of notifications. It feels like trying to conduct an orchestra while every instrument is playing its own tune.

The world is loud, cluttered, and relentless, isn’t it? It feels like every day is another day to juggle more balls in the air than you ever signed up for. I’ve been there—I am there, sometimes more often than I’d like to admit. It’s that place where exhaustion isn’t just physical but brews deep inside, a silent whisper warning you that something isn’t quite right.