When Coping Starts to Take More Effort

There is a particular kind of quiet that can descend when a familiar way of coping begins to require more effort. It is not a dramatic failure, not a collapse, but a subtle shift in the internal landscape. The strategies that once offered a sense of stability, of holding things together, may still be in place, but the energy they consume is noticeably greater. The internal cost of maintaining equilibrium has risen. 

I have sat with many people in this state. It is often confusing because, from the outside, nothing has necessarily changed. The performance of coping continues. The responsibilities are still being met. The routines are still in place. Yet, internally, there is a growing sense of fatigue, a weariness that sleep does not touch. This is not the exhaustion of a crisis but the slow, draining effort of a nervous system that is working harder to maintain a familiar state.

The mind might try to rationalise this. It might say, "I'm just tired," or "It's just a phase." It might even double down on the old strategies, pushing harder, trying to force a return to the previous state of ease. But the body knows. The body registers the increased effort, tension in the jaw, the shallowing of the breath, and the feeling of being stretched thin. These are not signs of failure but signals that a shift is occurring – positive or negative!

To acknowledge this quiet fatigue is not to give up. It is to begin to listen to what the body is communicating. It is to notice, without judgement, that what once worked is no longer working in the same way. This is not a personal failing. It is often a sign of growth, a signal that the old ways of being are no longer a good fit for who you are becoming.

It can be difficult to stay with this feeling, to resist the urge to either push through it or collapse under it. There is a temptation to seek a quick fix, a new strategy, a way to make the discomfort go away. But what if the most supportive thing to do is to simply acknowledge the effort? To create a small space of internal permission to be in this place of transition, without needing to immediately understand it or fix it.

This is not about letting go of responsibility. It is about shifting the relationship with oneself from one of command and control to one of curiosity and compassion. It is about noticing the effort of the nervous system and offering it a moment of respite. In that space, something new can begin to emerge. Not a new strategy, necessarily, but a new way of being with oneself, one that is less about effort and more about presence.

If you recognise this, this sense that your old ways of coping are demanding more than they are giving, you are not alone. This is a common experience, a sign that your internal world is asking for a different kind of attention. If you would like to explore what it might be like to meet this experience with support, I invite you to book a call with me.