When You Don’t Feel Fully Alive Anymore
“I don’t feel fully alive anymore. It’s like I’ve lost a piece of my soul”
When I said that out loud to my friend, she didn’t flinch. She just said, “That usually means you’ve been running on empty for a really long time.”
And something inside me just… exhaled. And in that moment, I felt that someone heard and understood what it was like to be a caregiver.
My life is hectic and full and tbh, lately, most days feel like a responsibility bigger than I have the capacity for.
I wake up already tired.
I move through my day on autopilot.
I keep going because stopping what I do feels impossible and well dangerous...
AND, I see that there’s this quiet erosion happening behind the scenes, in the deepest part of my soul.
You don’t fall apart all at once.
You don’t cry constantly.
You just slowly lose access to yourself.
Joy feels far away.
Rest feels like something you haven’t earned.
and relief feels completely far off and impractical.
And the part that makes it worse:
I’m still functioning.
People see me being productive.
They see me handling it all with ease, being reliable and smiling.
They see someone who “has it together.”
But what the people around me don’t see is how much effort it takes just to stay present. They don’t see how much energy it costs to keep showing up when nothing inside feels remotely familiar and you never feel like your energy is replenished.
After opening up and sharing all this, my friend told me something else that day: She said, “When someone feels like this, it’s not because they’re weak. It’s because they’ve been strong for way too long without any relief.”
Whoa, that hit for me and I suspect it may have had the same impact on you. Which is why I want you to know, you’re not broken for feeling this way. You are just carrying alot right now.
You’re responding to years of emotional depletion.
To carrying more than your share for longer than anyone should.
To surviving without any softness.
And here’s what I know:
You don’t need to disappear to make the pain and stress stop.
You need actual space to recover.
You need care that doesn’t require you to perform.
You need permission to matter again — quietly, gently, without having to earn it.
If you’re still here reading this, still looking for words that fit what you’re feeling — that means part of you wants something more than just survival. And that part? That part deserves to be protected. So let me give you two small things. Not fixes. Just places to start, so you can begin the process of living once again.
First: Find one thing today that asks absolutely nothing of you. Not productivity. Not self-improvement. Not fixing a single thing.
Maybe it’s sitting in your car for five minutes with the windows down.
Maybe it’s letting yourself cry in the shower without trying to stop it.
Maybe it’s saying no to just one thing without explaining why.
The Point: You don’t have to earn the right to rest.
Second: Think of one person who could just… hold this with you.
Not fix it. Not talk you out of it. Not tell you it’ll be fine. Just someone who can witness that you’re struggling and say, “I see you. What you are feeling is valid. You’re not doing this alone.” If no one comes to mind, that’s okay too. Maybe it’s time to find a therapist or a group of people navigating the same messy middle you are. We’re out here, I promise.
Most importantly, Remember
You were never supposed to carry this by yourself.
Your life got interrupted.
Your path changed without asking permission.
And right now, you’re stuck in the messy middle of it all.
But the messy middle isn’t the end of your story.
It’s where the rewriting starts.
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~Judy Davis is a motivational speaker, published author and Veteran Caregiver who shares candid stories, transformative mindset shifts, and practical strategies to help midlife women navigate the unexpected twists of life.