Trapped in My Own Head

It started with small things — like forgetting where I put my keys or missing a few appointments.

I told myself I was just busy. Maybe a little tired. Nothing serious.

But inside my head, it was loud and messy.

My mind was running fast but going nowhere. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things I didn’t do, conversations that felt wrong, and scary “what ifs.”

People saw me smiling and working like usual.

They had no idea I was barely holding on.

I stopped answering messages. Even deciding what to eat was too hard. Every little choice felt like climbing a mountain.

One morning, I just sat on my bed. I didn’t cry. I didn’t think. I just couldn’t move.

My mind felt empty but also noisy at the same time.

I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to go anywhere.

That’s when I knew — I was really, really tired inside. Mentally worn out.

The stress had built up slowly, like a leaking roof that finally fell on me.

I didn’t know how to fix it. But I knew I couldn’t pretend anymore.

So I started small.

I canceled two meetings that day. I turned off my phone for a few hours. It felt scary — like I was disappointing people.

But then something strange happened. I felt calm.

I went outside for a walk without music. Just the wind and my footsteps.

I didn’t try to fix my problems. I just let myself be.

For the first time in weeks, I took a deep breath without feeling guilty.

The next day, I promised myself to do one small kind thing every day.

Sometimes I wrote in a notebook. Other times, I just made sure to drink water or get out of bed before noon.

I started going to sleep earlier. No more staying up scrolling my phone.

Slowly, my mind began to feel quieter.

And then I did something I hadn’t done in a long time — I asked for help.

I called a friend and said, “I don’t feel okay.”

She didn’t try to fix me. She just listened.

That made me feel lighter already.

Later, I found a therapist. Talking to someone who didn’t judge me or tell me to be “strong” was a relief.

She helped me see how much pressure I put on myself — always trying to do more, never resting, afraid of being lazy.

We talked about saying no and why rest isn’t something you earn, it’s something you need.

Little by little, I started doing things that made me feel like myself again.

I painted. I listened to music I loved. I even let the dishes sit sometimes without feeling bad.

Healing wasn’t a straight path. Some days were hard.

But now, I had ways to deal with the noise in my head.

The moment I knew I was getting better was one quiet morning when I laughed — really laughed — for the first time in months.

It surprised me.

That’s when I knew I was coming back.

Not the busy, stressed-out me, but the me who could stop, breathe, and enjoy life.

I don’t have everything figured out. Life still throws challenges at me.

But now, I listen to my feelings before they get too loud.

I take breaks without feeling guilty. I check on myself like I check on others.

Most importantly, I stopped thinking being burned out was a badge of honor.

I learned that resting is not weakness. Taking a break is strong.

Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is say, “I need a break.