The Science of Cutting Yourself Some Slack
Image: A woman with reading glasses curled up in her favourite armchair, completely absorbed in reading the same beloved book for the fifteenth time.
Let's Talk About What's Actually Happening Inside Your Head
Your brain is incredibly overprotective.
When we’re overwhelmed, forgetful, snappy, or just utterly numb, we’re lead to believe that this is a weakness. But in truth, this is our nervous system doing exactly what it’s designed to do: protect us. The trouble is, it sometimes gets stuck in overdrive.
When you’re burned out, your nervous system doesn’t calmly tell you, “We might be a bit stressed,” it yells, “EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE.” Your sympathetic nervous system — the part responsible for fight, flight, freeze, or pushing through another all-nighter — gets jammed in the “on” position. Your HPA axis (that’s hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal, if you’re feeling fancy) floods your system with cortisol and adrenaline. Usually a short-term glitch, over time this hormonal soup disrupts sleep, digestion, immunity, memory, mood, and your ability not to snap at just about anything.
Meanwhile, your brain’s command centre — the prefrontal cortex, which handles rational thought and emotional regulation — starts to go offline. In its place, your amygdala (aka your internal drama queen) grabs the wheel and scans for danger. Real danger, imaginary danger, emails, doorbells, someone saying “pivot” in a meeting — it’s all the same to her.
The result? Decision-making becomes hard. Memory feels patchy. Emotions swing wildly. You might feel detached or hyper-vigilant, exhausted or wired — sometimes all at once.
But because our bodies are geniuses and your nervous system is neuroplastic, it can relearn safety. It responds beautifully to small, consistent signals—like sleep, gentle movement, connection, and breath.
In real life, that means a cup of tea and a nap are physiological interventions. This is how we start telling our brains: you’re safe now.
Step 1: Calm the System — Before You Can “Fix” Anything
No habit tracker, 5am routine, or miracle plan will work until your nervous system feels safe again. It’s the non negotiable starting point.
And how brilliant is it that don’t need to overhaul your life to get there. You just need to send consistent signals of safety to your body.
Things that help switch you out of survival mode:
Sleep: Same time each night, same pillow. Predictability tells your brain: We’re safe now. (Also why you might not want to be away from home.)
Gentle movement: Walking, stretching, slow swimming—movement releases GABA, a calming neurotransmitter. No need for burpees.
Familiar comforts: Repetition soothes the system. Watch the same show. Eat the same soup. Water the plants at the same time each week. Take the same route to the same café and have the same coffee. Knit the same scarf. Read the same comfort book for the 15th time. Who would have thought daily life is the best nervous system repair?
Connection: Texting a friend. Sitting beside someone. A hug. Every small interaction triggers oxytocin, reducing fear signals in the brain.
Rather than indulgences, think of these as the gorgeous, firm foundations where calming your nervous system begins.
Step 2: Name the Inner Critic (Then ASK HER TO Sit Down)
When your brain is under stress, the inner critic tends to yell louder. That voice telling you you’re not doing enough, that you should try harder, that you really ought to get your shit together — it’s trying to protect you, but very badly.
As you know from my last post, I named mine Stella. Stella is dramatic and obsessed with doom spirals. She can also be stubborn as hell about taking a back seat - I wonder who she learned that from?
You might have a Stella too. Naming her (seriously, do it) creates space between her noise and your truth. It lets you notice her and start negotiating which messages you actually believe.
Science shows that when Stella gets loud, you can gently tame her by:
Practising mindfulness: Notice thoughts without judgment. This weakens Stella’s grip by breaking the cycle of rumination.
Grounding yourself in the present: Focus on your breath or physical sensations to quiet runaway worry.
Challenging negative thoughts: Ask yourself—Is this true? Is there evidence? This activates your rational prefrontal cortex, dialling down Stella’s drama.
With these tools, you don’t have to silence Stella completely — just invite her to be a less intrusive back seat driver.
Step 3: Ask for Help — Even if It Feels Awful
Burnout thrives in isolation. But I know full well that when you're exhausted, asking for help can feel like admitting defeat. Like you’re walking around with a sign that says “I cannot cope with basic human existence.” But that’s not what’s happening. Asking for help is in fact a nervous system corrective.
Human nervous systems are co-regulatory by nature. That means as well as self-soothing, we also soothe each other. When we are near someone safe, calm, and supportive, our brain picks up on cues (tone of voice, facial expression, even pace of breath), and our parasympathetic nervous system responds. Oxytocin is released, cortisol drops, heart rate slows. We feel safer. Our body begins to come out of threat mode.
Support—the quiet, simple support is sometimes the best—restores emotional safety. And that safety is a biological reset that rebuilds your resilience.
It might look like:
– Talking to your GP and saying, “I’m not coping.”
– Seeing a therapist — not for fixing, but for holding.
– Saying to a friend: “Can we talk about something else today? I’m running low.”
– If you don’t know who to turn to, start with a helpline, a support group, or an online community. Speaking to a trained stranger can sometimes feel safer than opening up to someone you know — and it still gives your nervous system what it needs: connection.
Your body remembers being cared for. It recognises warmth, safety, presence. So we have to let someone else step in and do some of the holding. Don’t for a minute think this is because you can’t cope. You simply weren’t designed to do all of it alone.
Step 4: Let the Path of Least Resistance Be Your Guide
Right now, you’re not in a phase of rebuilding — you’re stabilising. And stabilising asks for a quieter, more measured approach. Choosing what’s most supportive in this moment, even if it’s unremarkable or goes unnoticed. When your energy is low, simplicity is very wise. So give yourself permission to lower the bar, to move through the day in the gentlest way possible, and to take the easiest option again and again without questioning it.
Which might mean:
– Making the same easy dinner three nights in a row
– Sitting in the sun for ten quiet minutes and calling it “movement”.
– Going to bed at the first yawn, before your second wind tricks you into staying up.
– Letting some things go completely with no plans to revisit them anytime soon.
These moments might seem small from the outside, but your nervous system notices. Every time you choose ease over effort, you’re sending the same essential message: we’re safe enough to rest.
The Bottom Line?
Your body and brain are on your side, they just need different things when you’re running on empty. Rather than the need to be more productive, they need you to feel safe.
When you calm the system, everything else becomes possible: decisions, direction, even joy. But first: slack, soften, stay close to what steadies you.
Your real self — the one who can move forward wisely — is still here. She’s just resting. Let her rest. Give yourself the time to find her. She's worth waiting for.