The holidays can be a bittersweet time. For some, they bring joy and connection, but for others, they stir up old wounds, repressed trauma, and a heaviness that lingers long after the celebrations are over.
When the lights come down and life demands we “get back to normal,” burnout can feel overwhelming. It’s not just exhaustion; it’s a deep physical, emotional, and mental fatigue that makes even the smallest tasks feel impossible.
For me, post-holiday burnout doesn’t just look like being tired. It looks like:
• Feeling physically drained to the point where I can barely function.
• Numbness and disconnection from everything and everyone, including myself.
• My brain running a mile a minute, trying to catch up with life but feeling overwhelmed by how far behind I am.
• Spending every ounce of energy at work and having nothing left for home or for myself.
• Struggling to meet my own basic needs, like eating or resting.
What Is Functional Freeze?
When functional freeze sets in, I feel stuck in survival mode. There’s no fight, no flight—just an overwhelming sense of being frozen in place. Functional freeze is a state where you feel stuck—mentally, emotionally, or physically. It’s your body’s way of coping when fight or flight is no longer an option. You might feel numb, overwhelmed, or unable to do even the smallest tasks. It’s not laziness or failure—it’s your nervous system trying to protect you.
If you’re feeling this way, I want to remind you: you’re not alone, and you’re not broken.
Why It Feels So Heavy
This year, the holidays threw me for a loop. Repressed trauma I didn’t even know existed came flooding back, and it left me depleted. The holidays, something I normally love, felt like too much. I didn’t have the mental capacity to engage, let alone enjoy them.
Now that they’re over, the weight feels heavier because life keeps moving, but I feel stuck in old, familiar pain. And that’s normal. Trauma has a way of pulling us back to moments that shaped us, and burnout only amplifies the freeze we feel.
Finding Balance in the Darkness
When I’m in this state, my first instinct is to find comfort—and while comfort is important, too much of it can lead me down a slippery slope. The key is balance. For me, it looks like slowing down, one moment at a time, and working to give myself grace when I fall short.
Last night, I needed to make dinner but couldn’t bring myself to do it. I felt the shame creeping in, telling me I was lazy, failing, or not enough. But I’m trying to remind myself of this truth: survival is enough. On the hardest days, showing up in even the smallest ways is an act of resilience.
How to Hold On
If you’re in functional freeze, start small.
Drink a glass of water.
Step outside for fresh air.
Let yourself cry or journal if you need to.
These tiny actions may not feel like much, but they’re stepping stones toward moving through this season.
Grace doesn’t mean excusing yourself from life—it means recognizing that you’re doing your best with the energy and capacity you have. Sometimes grace is letting yourself rest; other times, it’s celebrating the fact that you made it through another day. Both are worthy of compassion.
You Can Get Through This
The feelings of exhaustion, disconnection, and overwhelm are your body’s way of trying to protect you. It’s okay to feel like you’re just surviving right now. But know this: you are resilient, even when it doesn’t feel that way.
Here’s what I want you to hold onto:
• You’ve been through hard times before, and you’ve made it through every one of them. This is no different.
• You don’t have to do it all at once. Take it one small step at a time—one breath, one moment.
• Rest when you need to, even if the world tells you to keep going. Rest is not failure; it’s essential.
Even when it feels like there’s no light, there is hope. There’s strength in the simple act of holding on.
A Reminder of Your Resilience
Just like winter gives way to spring, this season of heaviness will shift too. Burnout and freeze don’t define you—they’re just a chapter in your story. Hold on, because brighter days are ahead.
If this resonates with you, know you’re not alone. Share your feelings with someone you trust, or even drop a comment below—I’d love to hear your story. Together, we can remind each other that no matter how hard it gets, we’re stronger than we think.
One breath, one moment, one day at a time—you’ve got this.
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