1. You’re productive—but joyless

You get things done. The system works. But your heart’s not in it anymore—and not because you’re lazy or ungrateful. You’ve emotionally detached.

It might sound like:

• You hit the goal, and your only reaction is: “Cool. What’s next?”

• You restructure your calendar or revamp your workflow… hoping something finally feels different.

• You find yourself rereading the same email three times—not because you’re confused, but because none of it feels real.

This isn’t a motivation issue. It’s the slow drip of disconnection—from meaning, from pleasure, from self.

2. Your tolerance is shrinking

You’re snappy with the barista. You dread Zoom calls. You feel allergic to other people’s needs, even when they’re reasonable. Your bandwidth isn’t low—it’s gone.

You might notice:

• You fantasize about smashing your phone every time it pings.

• Your body tenses when someone needs something—even if it’s your kid asking what’s for dinner.

• You reply to texts in your head, but the idea of actually typing feels overwhelming.

You’re not becoming selfish. You’re stretched beyond what your nervous system can hold—and your politeness is masking the collapse.

3. You feel invisible in your own life

The machine of your life runs—but you’re just… there. Half-present. Going through the motions. You don’t feel like a fraud—you feel like a ghost.

It can look like:

• You hear your own voice in a meeting and feel like you’re watching a playback, not living it.

• You look around at your life and think, “Wasn’t this supposed to feel better than this?”

• You laugh at a joke and wonder when the last time was that it felt real—not just automatic.

You didn’t disappear overnight. You slowly edited yourself out of your own life—while keeping everything else running on schedule.

4. You’re over-functioning in public and crashing in private

You show up. You lead. But the moment you’re alone, you fall apart—or go completely numb. You’re not “managing stress.” You’re outsourcing your emotions to silence.

Examples that might hit:

• You cry over a commercial, then dry your face before your team call like nothing happened.

• You cancel dinner with a close friend, not because you don’t want to go—but because you physically can’t fake being okay for two more hours.

• You binge shows you don’t even like, just to avoid thinking.

This is what emotional debt looks like. High-functioning outside. Hollow inside.

5. You crave change—but can’t make a single decision

You fantasize about quitting, moving, doing something—but even small choices feel paralyzing. You’re not indecisive. You’re emotionally bankrupt.

You might find yourself:

• Spending 30 minutes toggling between Airbnb tabs, then giving up and staying home again.

• Wanting a career shift, but spiraling into “what’s the ROI?” before you even let yourself dream.

• Reorganizing your desk instead of writing the email that actually matters.

The desire for something different is real. But decision fatigue makes every option feel risky—even if it’s just what to eat for lunch.

6. You’ve lost access to your deeper self

You used to feel a sense of knowing—call it intuition, faith, gut instinct. Now it’s just… quiet. You’re functioning from habit, not connection.

This might feel like:

• You go through your old journals or vision boards and feel no emotional response—like they belong to someone else.

• You used to pray, meditate, or check in with yourself—and now it’s been months since you slowed down enough to even try.

• Your “why” used to be clear. Now it’s buried under performance and noise.

This isn’t a crisis of faith. It’s what happens when your internal world gets crowded out by external demands.

7. You’re ashamed to admit this is happening

Because you “should be fine.” Because others have it worse. Because your life is good. And yet, none of that changes the truth: you’re not okay.

And that shame might sound like:

• “If I admit I’m struggling, people will think I’m ungrateful or dramatic.”

• “I built all of this—why can’t I feel good inside it?”

• “Maybe I just need to try harder. Push through. Fix it on my own.”

But emotional exhaustion isn’t fixed by shame.
It’s revealed—and then honored—so you can start coming back to yourself.